River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1878-04-25
Mol Pitcher.

memorable ssthc residence Of Mol Pitch
er, the fortrne-teller Of Lynn. Twenty
five years ago tht re were very few fire.
sides in New England that her fame had
not reached, perhaps disturbed; and her
successful predictions, alike astounding
to the vulgar or perplexing to the e.
lightened, were the theme Of many a
midnight watch or forecastle eonfab. She
was not the withered, decrepit, and
toothless crone Of Spenser, or Otway's
"Wrinkled bag, with age grown double,
Picking dry sticks and mumbIing to herself"
but a woman who lived in the full gaze
and gossip of the world, which only ac-
eepted her claim to foreknowledge upon
the uneqTivocal testimony of thousand
witnesses. Do you contend that her rep
utation was due solely to the shrewdness,
penetration, and ready wit with which
she was undoubtedly and in a remark
able degree gifted? How, then, will you
explain revelations of the future made
ten and twenty years before the events
predicted took place!
When she was in the meridian of her
fame and life the ordinary applicant saw
a woman of medium stature, having an
unusually large head, pale thin face
shaded by masses of dark brown hair,
who was as thoroughly self-possessed as
he was i'll at ease, and whose comprehen-
sive glance measured his mental capacity
before he could utter syllable. People
of better discernment, who recollect her,
say that her face had none of the wild
ness Of the traditional witch, but was
clouded with habitual sadness, as OF
mind overburdened with being the de-
pository of so many condolences, perhaps
crimes. She had full, capacious fore
head, eyes that read the secret thoughts
of suiter, nose " inclined to be long,"
and thin lips-a physiognomy wholly
unlike the popular ideal, but rather
that Of a modern Egeria; in short, the witch
of the ninthteenth century.
During the fifty years that she pursued
her trade OF fortune-telling, in what was
then lonely and little frequented quar-
ter Of the town, not only was she consult
ed by the poor and ignorant, but by the rich
and intelligent class. Love affairs, lega-
cies, the discovery of crime, lotteries, COM
mercial ventures, and the more common
contingencies of fortune formed, we may
well imagine, the staple of her predictions
but the most valued clients came from
the opulent sea ports within sight of
High Rock. The common sailor and the
| master, the cabin-boy and the owner,
equally resorted to her humble abode TO
know the luck of the voyage. 1t is
asserted that many vessel has been de-
serted when on the eve of sailing, In con.
sequence Of Moll's unlucky vahcination.
She was also much besought by treasure
| oil hor
day, whose united digging along the
coast of New England would, if usefully
directed, have reclaimed tor cultivation
no inconsiderable area of virgin soil. For
such applicants the witch had short and
sharp reply "Fools,n she would say, ''if
knew where money was buried, do you
think would part with the secret?"
Moll Pitcher died in 1913. at the age of
seventy. She was originally of Marble
head, and is said 20 have inherited the
gift of prophecy from her grandfather,
John Dimond, who must, however, have
lived in a time when 1t was neither wise
nor safe to exercise powers then universal
" attributed to the Evil One. Her faith
er sailed out of Marblehead as master of
small vessel. Mary Dimond married
Robert Pitcher a shoemaker in 1850.
Mr. Lewis, the historian of Lynn, asserts
that she was connected with some of the
best families in Essex, that, except her
fortune telling pretension, there was moth
ing disreptable in her life, and that her
descendants were living and respected
when he wrote. Her life seems rather
to mark the line which divides old and
new superstition than any decay of that in
extinguisnable craving to pry into futurity
which has distinguished the human fami-
~ in all ages. One ofour native poets re-
gretfully exclaims:
Even she, our own weird heroine,
Sole Pythoness of ancient Lynn,
Sleeps calmly where the living laid her;
And the wide realm of sorcery,
Left by its latest mistress free,
Hath found no gray and skilled invader"
s. H. Drake, IN HaIper's Ndgaziie for Nay.