But as this chapter is so short, I may as well, at the expense of chronology in my narrative, anticipate a few months, to introduce here a serious adventure which befell my young child-sister Margaretta, or Maggie, at this same city of Troy, or rather West Troy, in the following month of November, 1850. It is a curious illustration of the desperate bitterness of feeling which arose in some portions of the more ignorant classes in some of our American communities.
In it we see a striking revival of the old Salem (and mediæval) spirit of animosity against the so-called "witchcraft;" a spirit which was perhaps stimulated by the same mistaken and misguided religious zeal which some couple of centuries before had hurried to the stake, the scaffold, or the nearest pond or river, many a poor victim to the unhappy and misunderstood gift of what we now know as mediumship. In the month of November, 1850, a mob attempt was made to destroy the life of Margaretta while visiting at the house of Mr. R. M. Bouton. The mob was composed of a very low order of society, and were urged to do the work by prompters, who kept themselves in the background. Though not on the same scale of dimensions in numbers, mother and I at a later day concurred in recognizing in the riotous mob in New York, in July, 1863, features in the conduct of the men and women (the latter seemed not less savage than the former) that curiously reminded us of the terrible scenes of West Troy. They had evidently been put up to regard this communication with spirits as deviltry which it was right and proper to crush out even by taking our lives. They doubtless supposed, that by destroying our lives the whole matter would be put to rest. Accordingly her (Margaretta)'s every movement was watched, so that it was not safe for her to leave the house unattended. Finally the house was forcibly attacked; but being well barricaded and garrisoned the 'fort was held' and the assassins were not successful. The following letter from Mr. Bouton will explain the facts:
"MY DEAR MRS. FISH: We are endeavoring to make arrangements for Maggie to go to another place. If she has mentioned the name of the place to you, keep it a secret as you value her life. A deep plot is laid to destroy her. My house is beset every night by a most determined murderous mob; and we guard her every moment. We think if we can place her where we wish to, she will be safe. I shall defend her and her reputation at the risk of my fortune and my life. I will advise you of our progress; suppress the name of the place, if you can. I write with difficulty, not having rested for several nights. Five villanous-looking fellows are watching the house night and day. She has never left my house unattended, which has foiled them thus far. On returning late from East Troy, a few nights past, with my wife, her sister, Maggie, and myself, in our family coach, when we reached the river we found no boat. The five men above mentioned were there, and they tried to persuade my driver to go by the way of the long Troy bridge (a _glorious_ place for murder). We did not go, but they followed us home, and after we had retired attempted to break into the room occupied by Margaretta and my sister-in-law. They were furious on being defeated, and threw stones against the house and fired through the windows. I have procured means of defence, but we cannot sleep nights, and get very little rest during the days. They will, no doubt, return again to-night, but they will meet a warm reception, as many of our friends from East Troy will be with us. Last night Mrs. B. and Maggie went to the door of a shed in the rear together; but the fiends were on the watch and fired at them, with angry exclamations at there being some one with her. They were all large, strong men."
