brought her into disrepute; and the tongue of gossip was generally
loosened against her. She was charged with witchcraft, and actually
brought to trial on the charge, in 1680, but was acquitted; the
popular mind not being quite ripe for such proceedings as took place
twelve years afterwards. She still continued to brave public
sentiment, lived on in the same free and easy style, paying no regard
to the scowls of the sanctimonious or the foolish tittle-tattle of the
superstitious. She kept her house of entertainment, shovel-board, and
other appurtenances. Sometimes, however, she resented the calumnies
circulated about her being a witch, in a manner that made it to be
felt that it was best to let her alone. A man called one day at the
house of Samuel Shattuck, where there was a sick child. He was a
stranger to the inmates of the family, and evidently had come to the
place to make trouble for Bridget Bishop. He pretended great pity for
the child, and said, among other things, in an oracular way, "We are
all born, some to one thing, and some to another." The mother asked
him what he thought her poor, suffering child was born to. He replied,
"He is born to be bewitched, and is bewitched: you have a neighbor,
that lives not far off, who is a witch." The good woman does not
appear to have entertained any suspicion of the kind; but the man
insisted on the truth of what he had affirmed. He succeeded in
exciting her feelings on the subject, and, by vague insinuations and
general descriptions of the witch, led her mind to fix upon Bridget
Bishop. He said he should go and see her, and that he could bring her
out as the afflicter of her child. She consented to let another of
her boys go with him, and show the way. They proceeded to the house,
and knocked at the door. Bridget opened it, and asked what he would
have: he said a pot of cider. There was something in the manner of the
man which satisfied her that he had come with mischievous intent. She
ordered him off, seized a spade that happened to be near, drove him