The writer, a fellow of curious literary tastes recently came across what he makes bold to call the
most contradictory ghost story ever encountered by him in a life time of reading about ha'nts.
If there is one characteristic that ghosts have in common - I am speaking, mind you of well
behaved apparitions - it is a tendency to tell the truth. You seldom catch a ghost in a lie. I
suppose they're afraid to fib. Probably it's pretty hard to get permission to return to earth in the
first place, and they don't like to risk having their passes revoked summarily by the
Superintendent of Ultimate Realities. I don't imagine this dignitary would waste much time on a
ha'nt whose record shows that he spent his leave telling cock-and-bull stories. Such Blithe
Spirits probably find themselves in a serious jam when they get back from vacation.
Taking them by and large. I have always found ghosts to be serious and dependable people.
This is particularly true of those who have met death by violence. When they put the finger on
anybody you can usually gamble that the case has been pretty well prepared.
Often a ghost will go to considerable lengths to get a reasonable request fulfilled. I have always
admired the ghost of Sergeant Davies, a British soldier who was murdered in the Scottish
Highlands in 1749. Nine months after his death he showed up in the hut of a shepherd named
MacPherson asking to have his bones buried. To make absolutely certain that MacPherson
understood what he wanted the Sergeant spoke to him in the only language the shepherd knew,
one which Davies hadn't been able to talk a word of up until the time some lad with a long gun
plugged him from behind a clump of heather.
You have to take your hat off to a ghost who can master Gaelic in nine months. I suppose they
have good teachers over there, any place you want to look.
This is perhaps too lengthy an introduction but I want to make sure that the reader gets it through
his head that I have a high regard for the sterling qualities of the average wraith.
I shall now proceed to tell the story of the ghost of Mrs Cornell of Wickford.
I came across the story in one of the letters which Richard Smith of Cocumscussoc wrote to
Governor Winthrop of Connecticut in the latter part of the 17th century. Having written several
columns about Smith, I will not waste any more words on him except to say that these letters are
in Daniel Berkeley Updike's book about him and to hint that the proof desk owes me a round
robin of thanks for not copying too much of his appalling spelling.
Smith's letter of March 8, 1672 3 starts with the usual generalities. Then suddenly he bursts out
with news of "a sade aixadent latly hapned. Ould Mistress Cornell who lived with her sone
found burned to deth nerly to a cole." (I just want you to see what anybody who tries to read
Richard Smith's letters is up against.)
It seems that Mrs. Cornell, about whom we know absolutely nothing except that she lived with
her son, apparently was alone in a room at the time of her death. This room was separated by a
board partition from an adjoining one, in which there were several people, including the son,
Thomas Cornell. No outcry was heard. Someone just walked into the room and there lay Mrs.
Cornell, dead. There was only a small fire in the room and the body was not near it. And there
was no smell of burning. But the woolen clothing she had on was burned off her and she herself
was, to put it bluntly, crisped.
These are suspicious circumstances. But the coroner's jury that sat upon Mrs. Cornell
"returned a urdict thett shee was burned to deth by fyer, so shee was buryed."
A couple of nights later Mrs. Cornell's ghost appeared to a Mr. Briges and awakened him by
"heaving" the bedclothes off him.
"In the name of God," cried Mr. Briges,"who are you?"
"I am your sister Cornell," the ghost replied. "See how I am burned to death with
fire."
With the words a glimmering light appeared in the room and enfolded her. Briges--whose
name I suspect was spelled some other way--affirmed that he "perfectly sawe her deformed
with fyer."
Now the words of the apparition and the manner of its appearance, as related by Briges,
should have been taken as confirming the verdict at the inquest. But exactly the opposite
happened. Mr. Briges' tale stirred up talk, as a result of which the old lady's body was exhumed
and "serched" before a jury of 24 men.
The surgeons found that old Mrs. Cornell had been stabbed near the heart with "some
instrument like, or the iron spindle of a spinning wheel."
It was then remembered that the last person who saw her alive was her son Thomas. He was
convicted of murder and hanged at Newport May 25, 1673.
All very good. But what are we to think of the conduct of the ghost of old Mistress Cornell?
Why did she appear to Mr. Briges and try to get him to believe that she was "burned to deth
with fyer."?
Did she show him the wound the iron spindle made? No: she appeared to him clothed in flame.
What way is that for the ghost of a murdered woman to behave? Was the spirit of Mrs. Cornell
trying to shield a murderer? If so, what a demonstration of maternal affection!
 Please place in the Subject Line: WEBPAGE-HISTORY 
|