At page 392, vol. ii., of Mather’s “Magnalia,” New Haven ed., 1820, account is given of this case wherein it is stated that,—
“A little boy belonging to the family was a principal sufferer in these molestations; for he was flung about at such a rate that they feared his brains would have been beaten out: nor did they find it possible to hold him.... The man took him to keep him in a chair; but the chair fell a dancing, and both of them were very near being thrown into the fire.
“These and a thousand such vexations befalling the boy at home, they carried him to live abroad at a doctor’s. There he was quiet; but returning home, he suddenly cried out he was pricked on the back, where they found strangely sticking a three-tined fork, which belonged unto the doctor, and had been seen at his house after the boy’s departure. Afterward his troublers found him out at the doctor’s also; where, crying out again he was pricked on the back, they found an iron spindle stuck into him.
“He was taken out of his bed, and thrown under it; and all the knives belonging to the house were one after another stuck into his back, which the spectators pulled out; only one of them seemed to the spectators to come out of his mouth. The poor boy was divers times thrown into the fire, and preserved from scorching there with much ado. For a long while he barked like a dog, clucked like an hen, and could not speak rationally. His tongue would be pulled out of his mouth; but when he could recover it so far as to speak, he complained that a man called P——l appeared unto him as the cause of all.
“The man and his wife taking the boy to bed with them ... they were severely pinched and pulled out of bed.... But before the devil was chained up, the invisible hand which did all these things began to put on an astonishing visibility. They often thought they felt the hand that scratched them, while yet they saw it not; but when they thought they had hold of it, it would give them the slip.
“Once the fist beating the man was discernible, but they could not catch hold of it. At length an apparition of a Blackamoor child showed itself plainly to them.... A voice sang revenge! revenge! sweet is revenge. At this the people, being terrified, called upon God; whereupon there followed a mournful note, several times uttering these expressions—Alas! alas! we knock no more, we knock no more! and there was an end of all.”
In no other remembered account is that little boy credited with saying anything whatsoever. Mather reports that upon coming out of one of his scenes of torture so far as to recover power of speech, “he complained that a man called P——l appeared unto him as the cause of all.” That statement discloses a fact worth observing. There was tit for tat between little John and Powell. Each found the other a focus of issuing force that caused the witchery. The sensitive boy probably saw and felt, by his interior faculties, that properties and forces from Powell were applied to the strangely moving objects, and also in producing his own sufferings. Powell, too, through his inner perceptives, could learn the same in relation to the boy. Both were probably right in their perceptions, and in their allegations. Mr. Morse suspected and complained of Powell. That is something in favor of deeming John the lesser focus of force in this case.
The mauling “fist” was once seen, but eluded grasping, as spirit limbs generally do. At last, a “Blackamoor child,” perhaps brother to Elizabeth Knap’s “pretty black boy,” was visible—and not only that, but audible also. If it was the spirit of either an Indian or African child, sympathizing with his own race, and who had been taught to look upon all whites as oppressors, revenge would naturally be sweet to such a one, or to a band of such. Earnest, heartfelt prayer might psychologically break their hold, and induce them to say, “we knock no more.”
Though Powell, when tried, escaped conviction, yet, said the court, “he hath given such grounds of suspicion of working by the devil, that we cannot acquit him;” therefore the judges charged him with the costs attending the prosecution of himself. Such was equity practice in those days.
Having failed to prove conclusively that the harum-scarum sailor boy was the devil’s conduit for the startling occurrences among them, the good people of Newbury naturally proceeded to inquire what other person was the channel through which his sable majesty was pouring out malignity. Who, next to Powell, among those present at the manifestations, was most likely to have made a covenant with the Evil One? All eyes would turn instinctively to the spot where the deviltries transpired, and to persons who were generally near by when and where the performances came off. The inmates of the house of exhibition, Mr. Morse, Mrs. Morse, and their grandson, John Stiles, would naturally be very keenly watched and thoroughly scrutinized. Their traits, habits, and antecedents would be fully discussed; it was almost certain that one of the three must be guilty; and which of them was most likely to be the devil’s tool? Result shows that Mrs. Morse was pitched upon. But why she? Her character was good—she was religious and beneficent. But—but—