The Bewitching Ms. Wiggins

Doris Martha (Thompson) Wiggins, a lady I always admired and visited often, lived across the street from me on Lakeview Drive until May 2001 when she passed away at the ripe old age of 96. She was the widow of Col. Gilbert N. Wiggins who passed away in December of 1985 – a man she loved dearly from the moment they met.

Ms. Wiggins was one of the dearest, kindest, and most genteel ladies I’ve known in my lifetime who welcomed guests into her home as if they were long-lost relatives. She would always thank them for stopping by with a beautiful smile – no matter how much pain she was in. She dressed very properly (always color coordinated) each day even though, in her later years, ill health prevented her from leaving her home – except to make her weekly trek to the beauty shop.

After Doris Wiggins passed on, her daughter, Nan (Wiggins) Roberts, showed me old military metals handed down through the generations, old D.A.R. documents, tin-type photos and old books with much of the family history already compiled. There were many well-to-do, influential ancestors including judges, professors, political leaders, military officers and soldiers in the Colonial Wars and
Revolutionary War, colonial pioneers and there was even a hint of ancestry from Charlemagne, Alfred the Great
and a few other kings.

Ms. Wiggins’ beloved husband was an exemplary example of her own ancestors. Col. Gilbert N. Wiggins was a veteran of World Wars I and II, serving in the Signal Corps and the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. He was an alumnus of Colby Academy of New London, New Hampshire and the University of New Hampshire. He was a member of the American Legion and Veterans of Foreign Wars posts in Moultonboro, New Hampshire and a past master of the Red Mountain Masonic Lodge and Solomon Masonic Lodge of Elkins, N.H.

How could such a horrible thing happen – especially to an ancestor of Ms. Wiggins? After doing some research I found that there was a combination of reasons:

One of the main reasons was Rev. Samuel Parris who was a discontented minister in Salem Village. After a time his sermons began warning his parishioners of a conspiracy in the village against himself and the church by the evil forces of Satan taking hold in Salem. In reality, he wanted more money and the church wasn’t willing to provide it.

It’s important to note that the start of the so-called witchcraft emanated from Samuel Parris’ own household. His Indian slave (from Barbados) named Tituba told tales of the supernatural and voodoo to Samuel Parris’ daughter and her young friends who were teenagers. Today we would call them “ghost stories.”

Teenage boredom and rebellion is not a “modern affliction as some people may think.” It was running rampant in the Colonial days but in the village of Salem, Massachusetts it had devastating results. Many “witches” were hung all because of bored teenager girls who believed in witchcraft, an Indian slave who entertained her master’s daughter and friends with tales of the supernatural and a minister who wanted more money.

Things went too far when they decided to accuse Mary (Perkins) Bradbury in 1692 of practicing witchcraft. Sixty-eight year old Mary and her husband, Captain Thomas Bradbury, were a highly respected and influential couple in the area. The townspeople were outraged.

Mary’s husband petitioned the court and many of the townspeople signed a petition supporting Mary. Consequently, Mary Bradbury was eventually released as stated by Robert Calef in 1700 in his book entitled “More Wonders of the Invisible World”:

“The aged Mrs. Bradbury, daughter of John Perkins of Ipswich and wife of Captain Thomas Bradbury of Salisbury, was not only one of the most socially eminent but one of the most venerated women of her region, and her arrest enlisted in her defence the public sentiment of all the district (see Records of Salem Witchcraft, II. 160-174). She was aided to escape from prison, and so from death.”

During my conversation with Nan Roberts, I told her that I enjoyed learning about some of her and her mother’s ancestors – especially about Mary Bradbury. I then asked her where the family lived before moving to Lake Helen. She answered with a knowing smile, “Amityville.”