Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1878-04-17
Dallp S'snnsbet sournal.
MOLL PITCHER.

The vicinity OF High Rock was long
memorable as the residence of Moll Pitch
er, the for.une-teller of Lynn. Twenty
five wears ago there 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 en-
lightened, were the theme of many a
midnight watch or forecastle confab. She
was not the withersd, decrepit, and tooth
less crone of Spencer. or Otway's
"wrnkled bag, with age grown double,
Picking dry sticks and muttering to herself,
but u woman who lived in the full gaze
and gossip of the world, which only ac-
cepted her claim to fore-knowledge upon
the unequivocsl testimony OF u thousand
witnesses. De you contend that her rep
utation was due solely to the sbrewdness,
penetration, aud ready wit with which
She was undoubtedly and in remarka-
BILE degree gifted2 How, then, will you
explain revelations OF the future made
ten and twenty years before the events
predicted took place
When she was 10 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-
siye 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 a full capacious fore
head, eyes that read the secret thoughts
of a sutton, IA nose d" inclined to be long"
and thin lips-a physiognomy wholly an
like the popular ideal, but rather that OF
modern Eyeria in short, the witch OF the
nineteenth 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,
legacies. the discovery OF crime, lotter-
les, commercial ventures, and the more
common contingencies of fortune formed,
we may well imagine. the staple OF her
predictions but her most valued clients
came from the opulent sea-ports within
sight of High Rock. The common sailor
and the master, the cabn-boy and the
owner, eqnally resorted to her humble
abode to know the luck of a voyage. 1t
is asserted that many vessel has been
deserted when on the eve of sailing, in
consequence of Moll's unlucky vaticina-
ton. She was also much besought by
al las =
in her day, whose united digging along
the coast OF New England would, if use
fully directed, have reclaimed for Guilt
walton no inconsiderable area OF virgin
soil. For such applicants the witch mad
short and sharp reply. Fools" she
would say, !" if ! knew where money
was buried, do you think | would part
with the secret p''
Moll Pitcher died in 1918, ut the age
of seventy. She was originally OF Mar
blehead, and is said to have inherited the
gift of prophecy from her grandfather,
John Dimond, who must, however, have
lived ia time when it was neither wise
nor safe TO exercise powers then univers-
ally attributed to the Evil One. Her ia
Their sailed out of Marblehead as master
OF small vessel. Mary Dimond mar
ried Robert Pitcher, 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 pretenson, there was
nothing disreputable in her life. and that
her descendants were living and respect
ed when he wrote. Her life seems ra.
Their to mark the line which divides old
and new superstition than any decay of
that inextinguishable craving to pry into
futurity which has distinguished the hu
man family in all ages. One of our ma
tive poets respectfully 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 skillfu invader"
IS, A. DRAKE, in Harper's Magazine for NAV