CHAPTER VI
A Trap is set for two Tender Souls.
Doll never thought the demon would wait until her death-bed to come to her. Every moonlight night and every sunny day she looked for him and thought, ‘Perhaps this day or this night he will come to me.’ She always wore even quite commonly her prettiest, most worldly clothes, and she kept her shaggy black hair as neat as she was able. She thought, ‘He sees me always, everything I do, everything I wear,’ and she kept herself comely for him. She guessed he even knew her thoughts, and so she dedicated them to him.
In her own chamber she daily worshipped and prayed to Satan, as the fiend had taught her; that is, by foul blasphemies, such as the reversal of the Lord’s Prayer, etc. She even wrote little hymns to Satan and entuned them for him. She felt that she should be about some harm, such, for instance, as the bewitchment of the godly, but she received no command, so she did, forsome time at least, no devilment. She was happy and grew sleek.
The widow was already courted by three men, all reputable widowers and church members. Now that the windows were opened and Doll sang as she worked, and her own mind was taken up with her suitors, she did not fear her so much. Each went her own way.
Doll had always shown a dawdling and trifling attitude towards honest labour. And in this offence Bilby had encouraged her. For he had had her out in the woods and the fields (where there was nothing a young female could do) with himself, instead of leaving her at home to serve Hannah, as would have been more proper.
Now that he was gone, Doll still continued in her childish and frivolous wanderings. She often sat herself on the stone fence by the willow brook which divided the lands of the Bilbys and the Thumbs. The bonded boys upon the farm said they often saw her sitting upon the stone fence and feeding small rotten apples to Ahab (whose ferocity now had grown hideous). Yet this girl patted him freely, talking to him, laying her face against his cheek, and all theseattentions Ahab accepted of. She wished him for her familiar, but the creature (so she told Mr. Zelley) would never do one of the things she asked of him, except to pursue and render ridiculous young Thumb.
Mrs. Thumb heard that her black bull was often down on the boundary with Bilby’s Doll. She asked that he be penned, for she guessed that Doll was at the bottom of Ahab’s remarkable dissatisfaction in Titus. She wished the bull withdrawn from the young woman’s influence. By so doing and thus making these fields by the willow brook safe to cross, she did great harm to her own household, for now it was Labour and Sorrow who came daily (if they could) to see Doll. Undoubtedly she had been waiting for the twins to come and play with her. She must have seen in these weak and disobedient little girls fit matter for her to work upon to the further enlargement of the Kingdom of Hell. For she lay in wait there, and finally they came to her. They came slyly. No one at first knew they came, and they played at ungodly games, furtively, where no one of either house could know. Thus passed September, and October, and the half of November.
The Horrible Example of the Thumb Twins, or to what a Pass Disobedience may bring a Child.
Doubtless some who read these words will recall how in childhood they were brought to obedience and wholesome respect for authority by hearing a mother, or grannie, or aunt, or servant tell them the awful story of the Thumb twins, and to what their disobedience brought them. It is true that these children had never been well, and for them to fall from health to point of death was not a long fall. Nor when one considers what good use has been made of their example, and how many other children have learned decent docility from their story, can one wholly regret the incident which occurred as follows.
On the twentieth day of November (the day had been a mellow, warm, yellow day) the disobedient Labour and Sorrow went to the willow brook, and there found, as they hoped to find, the witch-woman awaiting them. She was all in fine scarlet as her fancy was. The children said they dared not stay and play—their mother had sent them to Goody Greene’s to buy mints. She would wonder if they did not return withinthe hour. They said (a long time later) that Doll smiled at them in a terrible fashion and suggested to them that what their mother wanted was of no importance. But the twins for once were mindful of their good mother’s wishes. They said again they could not stay. They had only come to tell her that they could not stay. ‘Well, take that then,’ said the witch, and angrily tossed across the brook and to their feet two dolls that she had contrived out of corn husks and pumpkin seeds. So she went away, and the twins went to Greene’s.
Woman with two kids and a cow
They came home again and they were late as usual, or rather as always, for they were dawdling, mischievous children. Their mother was angry with them. She could not whip nor evenshake them. She dared not, they were too feeble. She put them to bed without their dinner and there they lay to supper-time, talking and whispering, laughing to each other. She bade them get up for supper. They would not, but lay in their bed. No one thought further of them until morning. The truth is that, having no dinner and no supper, they grew hungry and so they ate the dollies, which were made mostly of pumpkin seeds. The pumpkin in all its parts, even the seeds of it, is wholesome food. It could not be this that sickened the children, yet from that day they sickened.
For forty-eight hours they were afflicted in their stomachs. This passing a little, an even more grievous malady seized their bowels, which seemed to rot away. Their very bones gave out from within them, refusing to support their weight, etc. They pined, would not eat because of the pain they were in. First it was ‘My belly, mamma, oh, my belly!’ and the next, ‘My throat, mamma!’ or ‘My head, mamma, my miserable bowels! My vitals are decaying within me.’ These frightful pains were the result of their disobedience, for if they had done as bidden—that is, if they had eschewed the young womanand received no presents from her—they never would have so suffered.
They had thus sickened and suffered for a week, and then Mrs. Thumb, putting fresh linen upon their bed, found, between bed and wall, all that remained of the pumpkin-seed poppets. It was plain that these two poppets were intended to represent the twins. They were all but identical, yet was the one (Sorrow) plumper than the other (Labour). They had dark eyes, made from little buttons, and light hair fashioned from corn silk. In this respect they simulated the brown eyes and yellow hair of the twins. The one was tied about the waist with a red rag, and the other with a blue, and it was thus in these two colours Mrs. Thumb habitually dressed them.
The twins gaped at their mother as she found these things, and their eyes were guilty eyes. She asked them from whence came these dollies. They swore they did not know. Perhaps a cat had brought them in. They were sure a cat had brought them in. Their mother told them they were lying and they said nothing. She said she would shake them, and they said that they were far too sick, and Labour offered to fall into aspasm. Well, if they would not tell from whence these things were, would they tell who it was that had eaten out the pumpkin seeds that had made their vitals. The twins responded heartily, yes, it was they themselves who had eaten up the vitals. The woman cried out in anguish, ‘My children, oh, my poor children, it is your own vitals that you have eaten, God help us all!’ And she rushed from the sick-room, weeping, wringing her hands, screaming to her husband, her son.
For three days the twins would not say from whence were these poppets. Their mother fancied it was old Goody Greene had given them, because she knew that the girls had been to her evil hut on the very day they sickened. Now Greene, as well as Mr. Kleaver, had been called in every few days to advise in the care of the twins. Mrs. Thumb was enraged to think that she had thus allowed the woman access to her darlings. But Widow Bilby told her to look to Doll, for she knew that she had in her own room pumpkin seeds with red and blue rags, and corn silk. She warned her, ‘Look to Doll.’
In her heart the woman was convinced that her little ones suffered from witchcraft. Mr.Zelley, who showed at that time a most stubborn disbelief in such infernal manifestations, or perhaps wishing to protect the wicked, pooh-poohed the idea. Mr. Kleaver also said that such wasting fevers were indeed far from rare. By the New Year he promised the twins would be well or in their coffins. He himself had seen no signs of demoniacal possession.
The woman asked the children—for who should know as well as they? At first they stoutly denied the idea and then weakened, admitting that it was possible. When their mother pressed them further, they put their heads under the bedclothing and remained mute. The mother decided to spy upon them to see if between themselves they might not prove more honest.
She told them she was going abroad. And she left the door of the chamber open into the fire-room. Having bid them farewell and slammed the front door, she returned on tiptoe to the stool she had set herself behind the chamber door. There she listened. They talked little and but casually. And then at last Labour said, ‘I wish we had not eaten the pretty poppets Mistress Dolly made us. I wish we had them to playwith.’ So she knew that in truth the poppets were from Doll. Nothing more of consequence was said.
That very night, however, they woke up the whole house, screaming that a great tawny cat had come down the chimney and had sat upon their chests, kneading its paws and purring most hideous. Father, mother, and brother flew to them. They saw no cat, but there were two red fresh scratches on the face of Labour. Their father reproved them for their fancies, reminding his wife how since early childhood they had been subject to night fears. The children were ashamed. They put their heads under the bedclothing. From then on, however (when their father was not present), they often spoke of this cat, and suggested even more horrible visions that came to torment them. Every day their plight was more piteous.
Almost in the middle of December, close to the shortest day of the year, the woman sat by her hearth, pondering these things. She was determined to find the truth for herself. Husband, doctor, and minister were all wilfully blind.
The children lay sick in the next room, and often seemed like to die. The one said to theother, ‘She will come again to-night.’ At the word ‘she’ the woman pricked her ears. It was only of the cat they had spoken before, and this cat they called ‘he.’ The child said, ‘She will bring her baby and let us play with it.’ The other said, ‘Oh, I hope she will not come. Although she seems kind to us, I am afraid that it is she who hurts us, for God knows we are bewitched.’ (She vomited a little.)
The woman went to the door, saying, ‘Pretty pets, who comes to you, and of whom is this baby?’ She spoke quietly. They hid their heads and would not answer. The woman went again to the fireplace and listened. ‘I think,’ said one, ‘it is her cat that comes to hurt us,’ and the children whispered together. The woman trembled with excitement. She did not go immediately to the children! Instead she sat close by the fire and listened. Sorrow said, ‘And the little black man with the little black hat....’ She could hear no more. But later Sorrow was saying, ‘Little people came, no bigger than my finger. They ate a little feast of honey and suet, served out to them in acorn cups—like those Mistress Dolly makes for us....’ And later, ‘There was a tiny queen. She looked just likeMistress Dolly, only smaller, a Mistress Dolly you could put away in a teacup, and her baby was no bigger than a thumb nail....’ The mother now felt she had proof. She hurried to her children, begging them to tell her all. Could Mistress Dolly, then, shrink no bigger than a poppet? And who was the little black man? At first the children would not speak, but, as was usual, stubbornly hid their heads.
She wept and prayed over them, begging them to be frank with her, for, if it were only known who bewitched them and how, they might be cured. As it was they would grow sicker and weaker, and finally languish and die. They protested they did not want to die, and began to weep and cast themselves about. And at last they confessed to everything (but in the midst, Labour was thrown into a grievous fit). They told how it was Bilby’s Doll had given them the poppets; how she came to them every night—not cruelly using them, but amusing and diverting them. ‘And she had with her a book ...’ said Sorrow. ‘My children, my poor miserable children ... was it a black book, and have you signed?’ Yes, it was a black book. No, they had not signed.
Then the pious woman got out the Bible, and she made them kiss it and swear that no matter how ill-used they were, or how delicately they were tempted by the witch, they would remain fast-sealed to God and not sign away their souls to Hell—no matter if devils did come and pull their vitals up by the roots and run needles through their eyeballs and brain-pans. The children, lamenting, shrieking, and yet for once obedient, promised and swore as they were bid.
A Hideous Malady and a Bridle for it.
From the day mentioned above Doll made no further pretence at kindness, for she began to come to these twins in hideous and cruel aspect. The deacons of the Church, the elders, the constables, the neighbours, took turn and turn about, in praying with them. These good words would often frighten away the witch, with her black book and infernal troop, and the little ones would rest a little or even sleep.
At last was the godly father of the haunted children convinced that this was witchcraft. He or his son Titus sat night and day with a bastard musket in the hand and a silver bullet in it.
At last was Mr. Kleaver convinced, and the doctor from Salem was convinced, and Mr. Increase Mather from Boston was convinced, that here at Cowan Corners was being enacted the most heinous and wicked witchcraft ever practised by any one in the New World. Here was indeed a witchcraft. Where was the witch?
Doll Bilby claimed that at this time she knew the children to be sick, but because week in and week out no one spoke to her (she went no more to Meeting) she had not guessed they were bewitched nor that she was talked about. She said she was sorry for what she mockingly called ‘her little friends.’ So she made a junket, and a fowl being killed she made a broth and put expensive cloves and nutmegs in this broth. She laid these things in a basket and asked the youngest of the farm servants to go present this basket to the Thumb twins, but not to say from whom it was.
When the mother saw the basket she cried out. Upon the handle of the basket in pretty Indian fashion were strung blue beads, identical with those the poor little wretches had but lately spewed forth. The children set up a great clamour at the sight of this food, for, although sohard to tempt, this particular food they would eat. She consulted Mr. Zelley (it was the last time she ever consulted him). He said it was good food and let the children eat. So they ate and quickly fell to sleep. That night they woke in horrid writhing fits, and almost died. Not only did they see Doll Bilby as she floated about over their bed, but Deacon Pentwhistle saw her and three others. Also Mr. Minchon, on going to the horse barn to get out his horse and ride home (for it was late), was bitten mysteriously in the arm. Lot Charty, a poor boy, that same night saw a fiery rat, and he said to this same rat, ‘Who are you?’ The rat said, ‘I am who I am.’ And he said, ‘Whom serve you?’ And the creature replied, ‘I serve Hell and the will of Bilby’s Doll.’ Then with a clap like thunder he was up the fire hole.
A woman by the Ipswich Road that selfsame night sat nursing a feeble babe. She said the room grew light and there before her stood an awful female form. She never had set an eye upon Bilby’s Doll, but by description she knew that this was she or her apparition. The child in her arms gave a great screech and the female form made off. Then (although it was midwinter)to the mother’s apprehension, lightning came and struck the babe, squeezing it flat as a plank so it died.
Doubtless there were many devils abroad. The blessed God permitted their escapement from Hell that they might give bodily confutation to all atheists who should say ‘there is no God.’ So must ever the Prince of Lies and his servants serve the will of God. Because of the powers of an invisible Kingdom manifested in the years 1671-72, the churches were gorged with the pious and the entire community awoke to an awful realization of the potency of God.
Non est religio ubi omnia patent.(Which might be translated, Where there is no mystery there is no religion.)
All in all there seemed no proof lacking that Cowan Corners and more particularly the Thumb twins were suffering from a cruel demoniacal tormentation. Mr. Kleaver and the Salem doctor, the deacons, the elders, Captain Buzzey, the marshal, and others gave affidavit in writing to the magistrates that the woman Bilby was a witch of provable perversity and that she should be set in jail. Mr. Zelley alone among all the men of standing had nothing to do with the signingand drawing-up of this paper. In fact, such was his strange, distrait, and heretical attitude, no one asked him to assist. Already it was bruited abroad that he was a man to be looked at, for, after all, have not some of the most potent wizards done their blasphemies under a cloak of piety?
People on horseback
So Captain Tom Buzzey, of the Train-Band troop (and he was also sheriff), taking two constables with him, rode to the house of Widow Bilby and there served warrant upon the young woman. She showed neither surprise nor terror, but looked up at her captors fearlessly. She wanted to know of what she was accused. She was primarily accused of afflicting the Thumbtwins. Why, then she was as innocent as a babe unborn. She would have explained to the sheriff that she had been the friend of these little ones ever since they could toddle. The sheriff told her that all were agreed that they were bewitched. If not she, who was it? Then she became confused and in the end said, ‘It was the work ofanother witch,’ thereby denying all and confessing all.
Captain Buzzey, as he had been instructed, searched her chamber and the house. He did not find the pumpkin seeds, corn husks, etc., etc., that Widow Bilby said the girl kept under her bed to work evil out of. It is likely the young woman really did know that her name was talked about and had rid herself of them.
She rode upon a pillion back of Captain Buzzey. A great jeering crowd had gathered to see her off to Salem jail. Widow Bilby laughed loudly from where she stood in the crowd between two of her suitors, ‘You’ve got it now, you jade, you jade!’ she cried.
Captain Buzzey said the girl bowed her head and he heard her whisper, ‘He has not abandoned me. My god, my god, protect me and save me.’ Thinking that she was referring to our Lord Jesus Christ and to the true God, he, in his heart,pitied her. She begged Captain Buzzey to hurry. ‘Oh, for pity’s sake take me out of this crowd.’ He clapped spurs to his stallion, and the young horse, in spite of his double load, put off at a gallop. The day was a winter day, crisp and cold, and the snow was fresh and spotless under the horses’ hooves. So at a tremendous pace the cavalcade of armed men and the one prisoner passed through dark woods and by a winter sea. They rode for six miles and came to Salem, where again they encountered angry faces, hoots, gibes, and threats of instant death.
That night she lay upon straw and without a mattress. The dungeon was so cold the water froze in the jug. She could not sleep for cold, but spent hours upon her knees in prayer (as the jailor later reported), yet now it is known it was to her demon or to Satan that she prayed. At last a heavenly quiet descended upon her and she slept.
Concurrent to her jailing, the Thumb twins were a little eased in their misery. It would seem that the witch had been put to fright at the fear of bodily incarceration and pain, and that she had diminished the force and malignancy of her spells.