The Portland daily press., 1884-06-14
(San Francisco Argonaut.)
The Witch's Ring.


King George held the land under his sway,
and when, as'its old folks sagely remark,
things were not as they are now. There are
great many old people in Adlingtune; in
fact, very few die young there.
The atmosphere is so dreamy and peace
full that excitement cannot exist, and the
wear and tear of the busy world are un-
known, or at most only huns family over
the hills, like the buzzing of a fly on a sunny
pane on summer day. And so they sit
still in their chimney corners from year to
year, and muse and doze and dream, until
they dream their lives away, and take their
final sleep. 1t was to an old crone OF this
description that | was indebted for my ad-
venture.
In the course of my ramblings about the
village, L CHANGED one day to peer over a
crumbling wall, and discovered an old, dis
used burial ground. The brown slabs were
broken, PROSTATE and scattered, with only
here and there forlorn, unsteady stone,
standing YEARLY, and waiting for the time
10 come when il, too, might fall down and
rest with the sleepers beneath. Scrambling
over the low wall stopped about among the
grass, pushing away the tangled masses of
vines and leaves from the faces of The LABS,
that might read the inscriptions there.
But the suns and storms of over one hun
dTed years had obliteTated nearly all The let
tiers, SO that only portions of names and
dates remained. Finally, down in deep
corner of the enclosure, where the weeds
grew densesf, and the shade was darkest,
found an old stone which, leaning forward,
mad protected its face from the storms, and
on the stone l read the words:
BARBARA Cornwall,
BORN 1870, DIED 1870. AGE, 60 YEARS.
Having been l0UgfEly executed for the practice Of
s0itckcrGft.
My curiosity was at once aroused. l in-
quired of several persons as to the history of
this woman, but without success for time.
Finally, however, / found an old woman
who told me the history of Barbara Cornwall,
as it had been handed down to her by her
ancestors.
Living in an old stone house at the edge
of the village, she was very rarely seen-for
no one ever crossed her threshold-save
when she was occasionally met by a fright
ened party of children idling away sum-
mer afternoons holiday in the woods, when
she would scowl and pass away, STOPPING
along over the fields, gathering herbs with
which to brew her nightly potions. No one
ever interfered with her, however, until a
sad year came to Adlingtune.
An epidemic broke out, and ragged with a
fury that nothing could Withstand. People
began to mutter that Barbara the witch was
the cause of it. Passing the road she was
stoned by party of boys, to whom she
turned, and, shaking her bony hand,
shrieked thai the curse was upon them.
Two of the lads sickened and died in
few DAYS, and though scores were carried
away in like manner, an especial import was
attached to their death. Barbara began to
be watched. They looked through her win
dows at midnight and found her bending
over SETTLING caudron, throwing in herbs,
muttering cabalislic words, and stirring the
mixture with what they reported to be hu-
man bone. Old Barbara was working her
charms.
So when, one morning, man came into
town bruised and covered with mud, and
testified that as he rode past old Barbaras
house, at twelve o'clock the night before,
he saw the arch fiend and the witch in con-
versation upon the house-top, surrounded
by flames, and laughing fiendishly in the lu-
rid glare, as they shook their fists at the
plague-stricken village below, his tale found
ready credence.
The fact that he was an habitual drunk
ard, aud had on more than one occasion
rolled from his horse in drunken stupor,
and passed the night in ditch, dreaming
wild dreams, did not in the least detract
from the belief of the villagers in his ae-
count of the scene. And when he related
Low this pair OF demons had pounced upon
him, and had first tortured and then thrown
him senseless into ditch, their Indignation
became uncomfortable.
Old Barbara was tried, condemned, and
hanged, though she protested her innocence
to the last.
The little sum of money found in her pos
session was used to buy thai gravestone-as
no one would dare appropriate it-and to
his day, if any one were bold enough to go
to her grave at midnight on the same day of
the year ON which she was hanged, and say:
barbara, l believe you were innocent" at
the same time stretching out his hand over
the grave, she would appear to him and
place in his hand a talisman.
This talisman woad bring good fortune as
long as he retained it, but at some time in
his life the witch would return to claim her
own.
The old woman ended her story in low,
impressive monotone, which, with her earn
estness and sincere belief in what she said,
almost carried conviction to me, in spite OF
reason. AS | sauntered away, ridiculing
these ignorant and superstitious village folk,
l found myself almost unconsciously wan
dering back through the old burial ground
to the witch's grave. Carelessly gancing at
the inscription, was surprised to find that
very day was the one hundred and fiftieth
anniversary of her death, and still more sur
prised when the thought occurred to me of
watching at her grave that night. l ridi-
culed and scoffed at the idea. Where was
my boosted common sense and incredibly?
But, still, returning ever, came that way
ward thing called fancy-and it conquered.
The world was wild and weird that night,
when stole forth from the village. The
wind was moaning through the trees, and
sobbing piteously; the black clouds were
driven in broken patches across the sky,
now letting down the mounshine, and again
shrouding all in blacklist night, making the
shadows chase each other about, and steal
around corners upon one in manner that
made me vince in spite of myself. Climb
ing the low stone wall-rather nervOusly,
contest stole away through the old down
trodden graves, pushing through the weeds
and briers as silently as possible, and max
ing my way towards that dark, dreary cor
ner, where the old witch reposed.
A graveyard at noon is very different
spot from graveyard at midnight, especial
ly if one is there to seek an interview with a
spirit
l reached the place and stood by the tomb
1t still lacked a few minutes OF twelve, and,
as l stood there, watching the moonlight
fitting over the graves, l longed for little
ray to creep in with me. But no-approaeh-
ing and receding and wavering all about
me, i: never touched this grave, but fled
away as often as it approached as though
frightened at the black shadow forever Turk
ing there.
By and by the village clock tolled twelve.
As the slow, tremulous tones stole out on
the night, the wind ceased moaning, the
clouds covered the face of the moon, The in
sects stopped chirping, and when the last
stroke was finished the almost unbearable
silence was broken only by my own breath
ing, which strove in vain to suppress The
darkness was intense, and l could see moth
ing. A terrible feeling of guilt and terror
seized me, that l, mortal, should be i'll
truding there at such an hour. Mechanical
ly l strove 10 speak the words l had been
told, but my lips refused to form sound.
Still stood in that awful back silence,
chilled with fear, until with mighty effort
reached out my arm over the grave and
grasped-a hand.
1t was only for an iustant-not that, for it
was jerked away in a twinkling-but long
enough to feel how warm and velvety it was
and how very small. Not that fingered
there to reflect upon these novel qualities in
the hands of ghost, and an old witch at
that, for you altogether mistake my bravery
in supposing it; but it was after had
cleared the old wall at bound and was out
on the moonlit road, walking at rafting
GOO, pace towards town, that recalled it.
From a state of intensn cold had changed