The Bell Witch Hauntings (An Authenticated History of the Famous Bell Witch: A True Story)
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The old house stood for some years and was used for storing grain and other farm products, and was finally torn down and moved away. Many persons professed to have seen sights and heard strange sounds about the old house and in the vicinity all along up to this day. Several have described to me flitting lights along the old lane and through the farm, while others profess to have heard sounds of wonderfully sweet music and strange voices uttering indistinct word. And it is said that such things have been seen and heard at various places in the neighborhood, but I have no personal knowledge of the facts.
RICHARD WILLIAMS BELL
Chapter 9
After John Bell's Death -- The Lovers' Easter Monday -- Prof. Powell's School -- Uncle Zeke's Rectification of the Ghosts Disturbing the Fish – Several Weddings
The death of John Bell, Sr., left a shadow of impenetrable gloom hanging like the pall of darkness over the sorrow stricken family. They were as a ship without a rudder; no solace for anguish and no light penetrating the darkness of the future, or forecasting the end of this great family affliction, save that the witch was now less viru lent in its demonstrations, ceasing to torment Betsy as it had before. The only way open was in pursuing the even tenor of life, awaiting the further developments of the unknown destroyer of the peace of the happy household. The death of Mr. Bell and the manner of his taking off awakened another sensation, one of a more serious and solemn import than all the events in the varied chapter of sensations that had so long kept the community in a state of frenzy, calling into exercise every faculty and all the stratagems of inventive genius, in the effort to detect the mysterious agency, only to be toiled and involved in still greater confusion.
The phenomena had progressed, developing new features, power and character from week to week, finally fulfilling that malignant purpose declared in the outset to be a part of its mission, that of tormenting “Old Jack Bell” out of his life by a slow process of mysterious torture, and now all eyes and thoughts centered on Betsy, curiously wondering and dis cussing with animation the probable effect of the death of the father upon the daughter, and the attitude of the witch towards her. The girl was then overwhelmed with grief for the loss of a devoted father, which in the course of time was to be overcome, but the forebodings of the horrible witch, whose caprice might chasten her through life, or burst at any moment in the malignity of volcanic wrath, hung over her like an impending calamity, menacing the happiness, of life with bitter anguish.
The suspense was dreadful in the extreme, like a horrifying nightmare haunting a feverish dream, and was not to be contemplated without a shudder. However, days and weeks passed, and neighbors continued their good offices, visiting and ministering comfort to the distressed family, and much to the surprise and gratification of all, there appeared a remarkable change in the mordacity of Kate toward Betsy. The haunting sphinx ceased harassing and become a ministering spirit, manifesting more sympathy, and tender compassion than all the friends who sought her on that gracious mission, save perhaps one. Joshua Gardner was never remiss in his devotions, and he labored with all the earnestness of his soul to remove the cloud that shadowed her happiness, and his efforts were not without good effect, notwithstanding his pres ence was attended with the premonition of Kate's abhorrent augury. Betsy Bell was conscious that her heart, beat in unison of sympathy for that manly devotion so freely bestowed on her. But what would be the consequence if she should disregard the warnings of her wicked tormentor, whose inflictions were already as great as could be endured?
Might not the terrible freak execute its threats on her, as it had fulfilled the prophecy concerning her father, and destroy the peace and happiness of both herself and lover, rendering them miserable for life, should she yield to his entreaty and become his wife? Such were her thoughts and reasoning against the inclination of her cherished desire, and it was a most difficult problem to solve, in the struggle of the heart between love and fear. Kate had ceased meddling in the affair, never called Joshua's name to Betsy, nor spoke when he was present.
Betsy's and Joshua's Engagement
This relenting was encouraging to the lovers, and Joshua took advantage of the circumstance as evidence that the trouble was nearing the end, and pressed his suit, urging that the marriage should take place at an early date, when they might leave the haunted vale for their contemplated Western home, entering connubial life amid happier scenes full of new inspiration, and hearts thrilled with the joys they had So long anticipated. Betsy was disposed to yield to his persuasive reasoning; Joshua had drawn a different picture of the future from that which she had been looking upon. It was full of promise and stimulated renewed hope, and she gave her consent, conditionally, insisting that the matter be postponed a while longer, awaiting further developments in the witch's course, which were to be expected soon. There was, however, no more malevolent manifestations. Kate had almost ceased annoying the family, which served to give coloring to the rainbow of promise that Joshua painted so beautifully, and Betsy soon found her crushed hope reviving, animating her broken spirit. The flush returned to her paled cheeks, a brighter lustre filled her pretty blue eyes, while a mischievous smile returned to play in the light of those matchless orbs.
This change in Betsy was noticed by all comers and goers, and was the gossip of the neighborhood. The Fairy Queen of the Haunted Dale was herself again. The gloom of despond had passed away, and a happy heart revealed itself in her sparkling eyes and merry laughter, which seemed to defy Kate, and the witch had ceased to interpose any further impediment to the match, and the brilliant wedding long anticipated was conceded to be close at hand. The Bell home had resumed something of its former gayety and splendid hospitality, extending a hearty welcome to all who came, offering the greatest attraction to visitors known in the country, and Betsy's grace of manners, pleasing conversation and charming wit, combined with her personal beauty, was a source of pleasure that all, old and young, delighted in.
She was the joy of the home,
The pride of the vale;
Her presence like sunshine
That lights up the dale.
Easter Monday
Easter came in all the glory of ethereal April. Nature had put on its spring garb unusually early, and the day was like the resurrection morn, lending inspiration and vigor to all that was flush with life. The afternoon found a gay party of young people assembled at the Bell home, as by intuition, to arrange plans for the outing and pastime for the tomorrow, Easter Monday being a holiday observed by all people, even the servants being exempted from regular duty and allowed freedom to spend the day as they wished. A fishing excursion and a hunt for Wild flowers along the river bluff seemed to promise the greatest diversion, and it was agreed upon to meet at Brown's for the sport.
The day dawned with a clear sky, and the sun rose in all of her splendor, sending forth gentle rays to kiss away the morn ing dew. The full blown orchard that almost surrounded the Bell residence presented a living bouquet of nature's beauty, white and pink blooms nestling amid the fresh young foliage of the trees, mingling their sweet perfumes on the gentle current that swept over the valley. Three interesting couples left the Bell place that morning for a stroll through the orchard and across the meadow to the river side, where the fishing party was expected to meet. The three couples were Betsy Bell and her lover, Joshua Gardner, Theny Thorn and Alex. Gooch, and Rebecca Porter and James Long. Three happier couples never started out for a glorious holiday.
Betsy had acceded to Joshua's proposition, dismissing all gloomy forebodings, and that morning for the first time wore a beautiful engagement ring, which Joshua placed on her finger Easter morning, while sitting beneath the favorite pear tree, and she started out with a light and joyous heart, full of mirthful sport, making merry the day. “See there girls,” exclaimed Betsy, “those beautiful pear trees, arrayed in white, representing the bride of the morning. They bow to us a hearty welcome this lovely holiday.” “Yes, I see,” returned Theny Thorn, “they are perfectly lo
vely; but you overlook the peach trees on the other side of the path, dressed in pink. They represent the bridesmaids.” “Well,” observed Becky Porter, “I should like to know what these pretty little violets represent which you all are unconsciously mashing under your big feet?” “They are Cupid's arrows,” answered Joshua Gardner. “They can not be crushed by trampling, Miss Becky; see how quick they rise up, smiling sweetly.” “Yes,” exclaimed Betsy, “that is why I love them so much; break or bruise one, and it comes again as fresh as ever;” Alex. Gooch presumed that these sentimental expressions were inspired by the in vigorating morning breeze. “Please, Miss Betsy, what does this refreshing zephyr, which blows such a pleasant gale, represent in your beautiful Easter picture?” “Oh, that is the breath of the bridegroom,” laughingly answered Betsy.” “Then,” observed James Long, “if we are to judge from the fragrance of his breath, the bridegroom must be a distiller, out gathering nectar from the myriads of sweet blossoms, that excites so much felicitous exultation.” “Yes, Mr. Long,” replied Becky, “you have a correct appreciation of the work of nature's God; you observe that the sun beams come first, gathering dewdrops from the precious buds, giving off the perfume to the morning's breath; that is what Betsy refers to.” “Oh, pshaw,” ejaculated Alex. Gooch, “please all hold up a bit and find your equilibrium. We started out to go fishing, but you girls are about to turn to fairies and take wings on the morning air.” “Yes, yes,” exclaimed Joshua, “lets go fishing; why linger here. Look yonder, see those majestic trees that line the river bank, lifting up their leafy boughs in solid phalanx like a bordering mountain range of evergreen, keeping sentry over this lovely valley. See how gracefully their wav ing tops beckon us on to catch the sweet strains of the warbling birds that are mingling their melody with the soft sighing winds and the mur muring waves that are surging by.” “Hold up, hold up two minutes, Joshua; catch your breath and take a fresh start,” exclaimed. Alex. Gooch. “Oh, no,” interposed James Long, “let Josh gush. He is in ecstasy of mind this morning, which accounts for his poetical flights.” “Well, said Miss Theny, “I am not going to leave here without a bouquet of Cupid's arrows. Come Becky, let's you and I load up with violets and peach blossoms, while Josh and Betsy are taking down that pear tree.”
Thus run the conversation in sallies of pleasantry and flights of fancy, as the three joyous couples wended their way through the orchard and across the green meadow to the river side, where many happy souls had already gathered and were making the best of the bright morning, entering fully into the frolicsome sports of the day.
Prof. Powell's School
Very soon Prof. Richard Powell put in an appearance, just out from Springfield on his first canvass for the Legislature. He had heard something about the fishing party, and could not resist the temptation to call by, and mingle a short while with the happy throng of youngsters who had grown up under his tutorage. His presence was the signal for a general rush to the circle that was gathering around the handsome teacher who, though a bachelor, maintained his youthful appearance, good humor and fascinating manners, extending hearty greetings and happy congratulations.
“How good it is to be here,” exclaimed the Professor; “it carries me back to our joyous school days, when you were all happy rollicking children, and I was well -- I was one of you.” “We are all children yet,” answered Joshua Gardner, “and I move that we open school right here and now.” “Good,” said Alex. Gooch, “I am in for that.” “And we will have some fun turning out the teacher,” remarked Jimmie Long. “No you won't,” returned Betsy, “we girls will take Mr. Powell's part and turn you boys in for the ducking. What say you girls? All in favor of that motion hold up your strong right hand.” “Both hands,” exclaimed Theny, and all hands went up. “There now boys,” observed the Professor, “I have the advantage this time, and will not go into the river today. Betsy you are just the same sweet good girl you always were, taking my part against the boys, and you too, Theny, Becky, Betsy Gunn, Nicie Gooch, Mary Gotham, Sarah Batts; yes, and you too, Mahalia, Susan, Nancy, every one of those dear little hands; you are all my pets and sweethearts, and I am going to stand by you girls, as long as I live. If you should happen to marry these bad boys, and they don't treat you right, any of you, just call on me, and I will help to turn him out and put his head under the spring spout.” “Ha, ha,” laughed Drew Bell, “I am going to be a girl today and help the Professor; put Calvin Johnson and Frank Miles under the spout, they have no business in this crowd anyway; they ought to be looking after some old girls.” “And where ought you to be, Drew? I just came down here thinking I would bait my hook with you for a catfish.” “No, no, Mr. Miles,” exclaimed Betsy Gunn, “we can't spare Mr. Drew; he digs our fish bait; look at his hands.” “Hold up hands, Drew,” cried Calvin Johnson; “if you are going to be a girl, hold up them hands.” “I shan't,” said Drew. “Oh yes, Drew,” insisted the Professor, “you have elegant hands.” “You mean elephant hands, Mr. Powell,” returned Frank Miles.” “No, grubbing hoes,” said another. “Flatboat oars,” put in Alex. Gunn.” “Call them what you please,” spoke Becky Porter, “Mr. Drew can dig more fish bait than all of you, and we can't get along without him on Easter Monday.” “Why Becky,” whispered Mary, “I guess you can get J. Long just as well.” “Now Mary, that's a good pun; what a witty Bell you might be,” retorted Becky. “Please, Professor, excuse brother Drew from holding up his hands, he hasn't washed them to-day,” pleaded Betsy. “Drew you will be excused, now finish digging bait; go to the spring and wash your hands, and then come to books, and fetch your gun to keep bad boys like Frank Miles off.”
Thus an hour passed in the exchange of pleasantry, witticisms, congratulations, repartee and general hilarity, recounting amusing events that occurred during school days, Mr. Powell declaring that it was the happiest hour he had spent since he had left the neighborhood, and he was very sorry that he could not spend the day in such pleasant company, but that he was obliged to leave, and wishing all much good luck in the catch of the day, he was off; not, however, without paying Betsy Bell some special compliments, telling her that she had grown up to be more beautiful and charming than he had ever dreamed of when he used to pet her so much. “Just as I always told your mother, Miss Betsy, that you were the brightest and smartest girl in school, when she declared I would spoil you; but I did not, did I?” “I think not, Professor; I hope I don't act like a spoilt girl,” returned Betsy. “No you do not, Josh will bear me out in that. And by the way, Josh is a fine fellow; I have heard that you and Josh were about to make a match, and I shall wish you much happiness and prosperity. That boy never could help loving you, and I never did blame him, as you were my little pet also, and I have waited almost as patiently as did Jacob for Rachel, hoping that you and Josh might forget that young school day love, but I have been disappointed, and now my request is to be at the wed ding. I want to be present when you wed, my little pet. Good-bye, I wish you well.” “Professor, I shall let you know when that happens,” answered Betsy. As soon as Mr. Powell left, the assembly broke up in couples, stringing out along the river bank wherever good places could be found to throw in their hooks.
The darkies in the country were all out early for the holiday, and had monopolized the river bank from Brown's ford up to Gorham's mill, and the young people respecting their rights too much to disturb their pleasure, sought places below the ford, the three couples from the Bell home being last to locate, Joshua and Betsy taking the last position, just opposite the enchanted spring where the treasure trove was said to be concealed, which was a fair open spot. Mr. Gardner soon baited the hooks and set the poles in the bank to await the coming of the fish, and he and Betsy seated themselves on a green sward back upon the hillside over looking the fishing tackle.
The sky continued clear, and the sun approached noontide, spreading bright rays over the valley, while a brisk wind heavily freighted with sweetest fragrance swept over, keeping the fresh green foliage of the tall trees along the ri
ver side in constant commo tion. The modest little brook from the enchanted spring rippled down the riverbank in sweet con sonance with the murmuring waves that rolled steadily by. The merry laughter of the gay throng strung out along the brink was caught up by the breeze in chorus with the music of the happy wildwood songsters that fluttered, chirped and twittered in the boughs overhead. It was indeed a real Easter day -- the goddess of Spring restoring to nature that refreshing and renewal of life which so beautifully commemorates the resurrection of the world's Savior. Even the finny tribe seemed mindful of the commemorative event and were on a holiday frolic, coming to the top, jumping and flouncing on the bosom of the crystal-like waves, and didn't care a fig for the daintiest bait thrown out by eager fishermen. “Keep less noise down there, you’ll frighten the fish away,” yelled a stentorian voice in a com manding tone. “You are making more noise, Mr. Miles, than all of us,” exclaimed Betsy Gunn. “Yes, but I have got to roar to get you youngsters settled so I can catch fish. Now you and John Bell settle, down to the business you came here for, like Josh and Betsy, I came to catch fish,” returned Mr. Miles. “So did we,” observed John, “but we have no idea of scaring them to death.” “That is just what you are doing; see how they jump,” replied William Porter; “Frank and I came here to catch some fish if you chaps will make less noise.” “Then you will have to jump in and run them down, Brother Billy,” exclaimed Becky Porter.