Four children of the “grave man” were simultaneously and excruciatingly racked and tortured precisely alike, and in the same parts of their bodies, although being, some of them, in separate apartments, and ignorant of one another’s complaints. Such are the alleged and uncontested facts. The citizens of Boston, two or three years ago, were permitted to see, and we saw, even more than four, yes, eight or ten boys, strangers to the operator, and mostly to each other, volunteer to go upon a stage, where, in a few minutes, after two or three out of a dozen had been requested to leave the stage, all the others were made to move, and act, and suffer precisely and simultaneously alike, many of them standing often back to back, and no one among them perceptibly looking at any other. This was all occasioned by the mental, magnetic or psychological force of Professor Cadwell.
If we presume (and why may we not?) that the wild Irish woman possessed strong psychological powers; that Martha Goodwin was easily subjectible to psychological control; that her brothers and sister were so too, and that they were all naturally sympathetic, then we can see that nothing more occurred, even if the whole that is told be literally true, than falls within the scope of such psychological forces as have in recent years been manifested by embodied, and, we may add, by disembodied minds. If in her anger the old woman forced or found rapport between her own sphere or aura and that of Martha Goodwin, way was opened for injection of germs of suffering to the girl’s system, and the systems of others in rapport with her. Way was opened through which the tormentor could, though absent, send upon the child ugly wishes that would keep torturing her so long as the old woman kept the wishes active; as perhaps she did in many of her waking hours. The account says, “One or two things were very remarkable. All their complaints were in the daytime, and they slept comfortably all night.” When the old woman was asleep, and her resentful feelings were dormant, the children also slept.
A passage-way so opened as to admit the entrance of one, usually admits others of the same kind to follow. Where the old woman’s subduing will-force had entered and gained sway, that of her sympathetic, and many other spirits, might do the same; and could make the children’s outer forms either accept or reject, at the controller’s pleasure, any books or class of literature which should be offered for perusal. Catholic spirits, or any spirit, liking a little fun, might keenly relish the work of astonishing Cotton Mather and his ilk, by showing preferences antagonistic to his own righteous ones.
The case of Philip Smith, a very intelligent, efficient, and highly respected citizen of Hadley, Mass., exhibits analogous phenomena. We shall not go into that case in detail. It occurred 1685, and is very instructive. Being sick, sensitive, clairvoyant, and pining away, “he uttered a hard suspicion” that one old Mrs. Webster, who had once been tried for witchcraft, and also had taken offense at some of Smith’s official acts, “had made impressions with enchantments upon him.” His “suspicion” and sufferings fired the minds of young men in the town to go “three or four times” and give that old woman disturbance. Drake, in Woodward’s “Hist. Series,” No. VIII. p. 179, presents the following account: “It is said by a reliable historian that the young miscreants went to her house, dragged her out, and hung her up till she was almost dead. They then cut her down, rolled her some time in the snow, and then buried her up in it, leaving her, as they supposed, for dead. But by a miracle, as it were, she survived this barbarity. Still more miraculous it was, that the sick man was greatly relieved during the time the helpless old woman was being so beastly abused.” Mather, in his account (ib. p. 177) says, “All the while they were disturbing her, he was at ease, and slept as a weary man.” This is all possible, and not improbable. The man was obviously very susceptible to psychological influences, and could trace felt malignant forces to their source. She, no doubt, was a turbulent and odd old woman, for she had been tried for witchcraft, and was probably a natural psychologist. As long as rough handling caused her to call in, and keep at home, and concentrate all her thoughts and forces for self-defence and protection, no emanations from her went out to the sick man, who then consequently dropped into quiet sleep.
One of these Goodwins, says Hutchinson, “I knew many years after. She had the character of a very sober, virtuous woman, and never made any acknowledgment of fraud in the transaction.” Probably, therefore, there was no fraud. This sober, virtuous woman, a party concerned, years subsequently made profession of religion, continued long to live a useful and respected life, and never made acknowledgment of fraud. The probability is near to certainty that she never acted any.
And how was it with the others? “They returned to their ordinary behavior, lived to adult age, and made profession of religion.” Look at the case. Four guileless, bright little sisters and brothers, residing together under their father’s watch, in the twinkling of an eye, flash upon the gaze of the town in which they lived, seemingly as adroit and proficient tricksters as were ever known, and all of them alike competent to their several parts. They remain the town’s wonder for months, and then all return to their former behavior, grow up and live Christian lives among the witnesses of their strange doings, and never make confession of fraud. Was there any fraud? Only the over-credulous in self-powers of divination backward will believe that there was.
In the process of watching these children, and the annoyances and sufferings they endured, it was discovered that when absent from home they were in great measure exempt from the special evils; therefore arrangements were made for their abode elsewhere; and probably not for all of them together in any one family. We find that the girl Martha became a resident in Cotton Mather’s family not many weeks after the commencement of the great consternation. And it is stated that for a time none of her extraordinary demeanor was manifested there; yet subsequently the fits and antics revealed themselves abundantly, even under the roof of the devil-fighting clergyman. Some sayings and doings while she was residing there, manifested more frolicsome and quizzical motives than prompted the manifestations described by Hutchinson.
Turning to a much later historian, we quote from Upham as follows:—
“One of the children seems to have had a genius scarcely inferior to that of Master Burke himself; there was no part nor passion she could not enact. She would complain that the old Irish woman had tied an invisible noose round her neck, and was choking her; and her complexion and features would instantly assume the various hues and violent distortions natural to a person in such a predicament. She would declare that an invisible chain was fastened to one of her limbs, and would limp about precisely as though it were really the case. She would say that she was in an oven; the perspiration would drop from her face, and she would produce every appearance of being roasted; then she would cry out that cold water was being thrown upon her, and her whole frame would shiver and shake. She pretended that the evil spirit came to her in the shape of an invisible horse; and she would canter, gallop, trot, and amble round the rooms and entries in such admirable imitation, that an observer could hardly believe that a horse was not beneath her, and bearing her about. She would go up stairs with exactly such a toss and bound as a person on horseback would exhibit.”
Such is a general summary of her feats as presented by this historian. Does he believe that such things were actually performed either by or through her? Does he believe that such were the literal facts even in appearance? He nowhere, so far as we notice, till he sums up the case, distinctly charges fraud on the one side, or such credulity on the other, as made witnesses falsify as to appearances. He seems to admit the facts as appearances, and charge them all to the girl’s extra cunning and skillful acting. “She pretended that the evil [?] spirit came to her.” Was it only her pretense? Who knows? Why say pretended? Was she so generous as to give credit to another, and that other an “evil spirit,” for help which she did not receive? Are expert tricksters accustomed to disown their own powers to astonish? Especially do they ever spontaneously avow that the devil or any evil spirit is helping them? We think not. And yet it is stated that Martha Goodwin’s own lips declared that some invisible spirit was acting through her, or was helping her perform her marvelous feats. Why call that a pretense, and make her a liar? Why not put some confidence in the words of this religiously educated girl?