Utica Free Academy - Academician Yearbook (Utica, NY)

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Wendover, who had disappeared from Salem Farms Seven years ago. g v He had been playing out in the woods one day with others of his own age, when in some unaccountable way he had strayed from the rest and become lost, deeper' and deeper in the woods. Nothing further was ever known' of him, and although the most careful search was made,'not even a corpse, or the foot-prints of a struggle remained to show his 'grief- stricken. parents and friends whether he had met his death through wild beasts or prowling Indians, or had died- of starvation, in the lonely woods. '4Such catastrophes were not unknown to the people of that period, and in the years that followed, the bitterness of first grief, was swallowed up almost in forgetfulness ofone who had been with them such a short time. But there was'o'ne in Salem Farms who never forgot her comrade Philip. lt was Charity Ainsworth, who, in spite of all indications tothe contrary, always hoped that her little friend still lived, and believed that she would ultimately see himuagain. Indeed so firmly was this conviction rooted in her heart, that she shunned the society of boys and young men, although by this time most of her girl friends had married, and even her parents would have liked. her to wed one of the many fine young men in the community. b l But Charity would listen to no suiter, so that one by one those who had been charmed by her sweet bright face and gentle manners, had left her to court more responsive maidens. Ambrose Graham, alone, of them all, was intensely passionate in his love, and ceaselessly importuned her to return his affection. He was, to all appearances a fine, handsome, manly young fellow, of good family and means, and highly desirable in all eyes but Charity's. She ,still remained true to her childish lover, and preferred a single life, to marriage with one whom she could not love. Since her people 's prosperity made it impossible for her ever to want, she determined to give her life for others, and especially 'to care for the sick and the poor. An old llldidll servant, who had worked for them many years had taught ..2'7.. .f .1 1 ' 'viffzzzrz iff J ?fiif5 fv i1 any

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,. , , .,, ,I pi, '.,,,,- - ,gr-,zfjp ai ' traits of those who had been, during their life-time, masters or mistresses of The Elms, and in surrounding cabinets, were treasures of each generation, a bit of old rare china from one, ga silk fan from another, a sword from another, and so on. There was even a tiny pair of hand-embroidered mocassins .and a bag of bead-work in one compartment, testifying to the tastes of some early Ainsworth dame. ' I i There was one conspicuosly blank spaceon the wall, to which I could not help calling my friend 's attention, inasmuch as every other available inch, was utilized, andin fact' the pictures from the last two generations had been hung in a little .adjoining room, containing, for the most part, old records and documents. 5 Ah, said my friend, Hthat blank space is kept- in' our family hall, in loving remembrance 'of one who should have been mistress of 'The Elmsf but upon whom the shadow of a terrible superstition fell, causing her to be an alienfrom friendsand family. You must be weary of looking and examin- ing, sit down here before the fire-place and I will tell you all that I know of Charity Ainsworth, who alas, never succeeded to her true position in the history of this house. 7 ' . So there, lost in the comfortable recesses of a great leather :arm-chair, before the curious old fire-place, where the dancing light and shadow ofa roaring fireseemed to reveal all the ancient secrets and treasures of the weird room, I was carried back, by my friend's narrative, to a time of early colonial struggles, and frontier hardships, before even the shadow' of .a separation between Great Britain, and the colonies-to that black year of 1692, the saddest in the whole history of New England. Charity Ainsworth was the only child of most intelligent :and loving parents, loving, yet possessing all the strictness of the Puritans, who lived in the fear of God and the rightousness of man. A I-Ier childhood and girlhood had been comparatively free from hardships which many had encountered, and up to her sixteenth year ,but one cloud had darkened her horizon. That was the loss of her friend and comrade from babyhood, Philip ...gg-

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v her the secret of medicinal herbs and their preparation, S0 that together with her womanly patience and sympathy, She was of the rarest value at every sick-bed. ' , lt was at this time, in her sixteenth year that the terrible epidemic of Salem witchcraft broke out in their hitherto peace- ful village. The superstition was started by some demented children, influenced by an old Indian nurse, Tituba, who claim- ed that they were being tortured by spells cast over them by certain of the good people of the region, who had always been regarded as peaceful and harmless. The curse rapidly spread, and it was used by anyone who bore a grudge or possessed an enemy to cast over them disrepute and ignominy. The mere accusation of the afflicted children, who professed to be under these spells, was sufficient to subject the accused to trial, and death, if found guilty, which was generally the case. Not only did this madness seize hold of the common people, but the magistrates and clergy themselves believed in it, and did' all they could to punishthose said to possess this evil power. Only a few of the saner and more reasonable of, the people denounced this witchcraft delusion, and sought to arouse public indignation against its atrocities. The Ainsworth were among this number, and refused either to testify against old friends and neighbors or to-have any belief in the reality of witchcraft. In particular Charity was grieved and angered atthis wicked snare of delusion, for she had ample opportunity to observe its horrible eiects in the village homes where she sought to be of some comfort. In her work among the sick and poor, in min- istering to those who had been deluded in thinking themselves under wicked spells, she had seen the horror of it all. The ravages of those affiicted, not in body, but in spirit, filled her with disgust and pity, the accusations against old friends, the trials and tortures used to wring out false con- fessions, the cruel deaths of those whom she knew innocent all filled her mind, greatly matured foruher age, with dark forei boding for her country and friends. A Hlt was not for others, however, but for herself, that Charity had to fear. Her thwarted lover, Ambrose Graham, seeing a '97 5fW77 f'