The Good, the Baud, and the Ugly: John Atkinson and the Merry Widow Stickney

A blog by Bethany Groff Dorau, Executive Director

If anyone haunts the dark halls of the Cushing House, I’m going to bet it’s Mae Atkinson. Mae, who spent thirty years of her life as a volunteer and board member of the Museum of Old Newbury, still appears in the oddest places here – she tucked little notes under chairs, made mildly draconian lists of tasks for the docents, and strictly forbade jeans or bare arms while on (unpaid) duty. She also worked incredibly hard for this organization, training docents, cataloguing objects, cleaning and organizing and researching. We owe her a great debt.

And she did not care for me one little bit.

Many years ago, when I was a fresh-faced twenty-something, my former employer, then known as SPNEA, made a decision about a property in Newbury and I blithely sallied forth into the community to spread the good news. Mae was adamantly opposed to this decision and came to see me, and I am sure I was wearing jeans and my arms were bare (as they are most days, truth be told). She excoriated me for the decision de jour, and then listed some 47 other reasons why she had a bone to pick with SPNEA.

The earliest of these complaints dated back to 1911. I kid you not. She was still angry that, sixteen years before she was born, SPNEA had swooped in and “stolen” the Swett-Ilsley House (I tried to interject that it had been purchased, actually, but to no avail). It was a pointed exchange which ended in my tearfully apologizing for my very existence and her throwing a look of such withering scorn as she exited that I shudder to recall it even today.

After this memorable scene, I sought my revenge in the only way I could – I set about to prove that I was an Atkinson heir which, in the reverse logic of old New England, would give me the right to disagree with her.

The c. 1664-1665 Atkinson House at 5 Hanover Street in Newbury was purchased by Mae and Bud Atkinson in 1985 and meticulously restored. Image courtesy of the Newbury Historical Commission.

Of course, here’s the tricky bit. Mae Atkinson, who lived in the Atkinson family homestead, and fiercely defended the rights of this ancient family, was not born an Atkinson. Still, I cracked my genealogy book open to the “A”’s, and there he was, John Atkinson (1636-1713), builder of Mae’s much-admired c. 1664 home. He is my 9th great-grandfather and the 8th great-grandfather of Mae’s husband Bud.

Recently, as I was answering a research inquiry, I ran into John Atkinson again, this time not in my tidy genealogy, but in the wonderful, bawdy scrum of the Essex County Quarterly Courts, which you may know is my favorite light reading.

On December 15, 1681, Sarah (Morse) Stickney, a widow and already mother of nine, swore out a complaint that John Atkinson “is the father of my last child, a fact which I had concealed upon his promise to maintain the child which he now refuses to do.” I backed up a bit. There she was, Sarah Stickney, in March, 1681, presented by the town of Newbury for “having a child born January last.” Two women present at the birth appeared as witnesses. Sarah Stickney, then 39 years old, was sentenced to be whipped or pay a fine. She did not name the father, even in the throes of labor when she would have been interrogated by the midwives present. She had made an arrangement with John Atkinson, who agreed to pay for the child if she kept their indiscretion(s) to herself.

Her first act, after paying her fine, was to slander the court, telling Sarah Haines and her husband Jonathan that “the court did not regard the sin (of fornication) so long as they could get the money.” But it was John Atkinson’s refusal to keep up with his secret child support that landed them both back in court.

Once Sarah Stickney had officially charged Atkinson with fathering her child, the whole town got involved. There was precious little to do in March, 1682, when her case was called, and every ambulatory citizen of Old Newbury seems to have shown up to the Ipswich court (held in a tavern, naturally) to have a drink and watch the show. Audience participation was encouraged, and dozens of people testified on one side or the other. Sarah Haines came to court to reveal that she was present at the birth of the child and that Sarah Stickney had never named John as the father. Oh, and she also mentioned that Stickney had insulted the court.

Witnesses come forward who had seen John Atkinson at Widow Stickney’s house before and after the birth of the child. Other witnesses overheard Sarah accuse another man, Samuel Lowell, of being her child’s father.

Sarah’s son, John Stickney, testified that John Atkinson came to their house, gave him some money, and sent him out to get some wine for them, and the children were all sent to bed and their mother and John “drank freely”.

John Stickney, testified that John Atkinson hid his horse when he came to their house, and that shortly after the baby was born, Atkinson “came to see her, took the child in his arms and kiss’d it.”

Sarah thought they had a deal. As she left for Salem court to be sentenced for her daughter’s birth out of wedlock, Atkinson came to visit. Sarah said he “called her out of her house, told her that the court was near, and he was going to Boston. He gave her 30 shillings in money and asked her to be true to him.”

And then he stopped paying, and Sarah followed him and his wife to a neighbor’s house. “Sarah came into Jonathan Haines’ house when John Atkinson and his wife were there and asked John if he was going to deny his child, whereupon John's wife called her an impudent baud (promiscuous woman). Then Sarah Stickney used such opprobrious, reproachful and reviling speeches (including calling Mrs. Atkinson a baud as well), that Haines told her to go out of the house but she would not depart. Then Goody Atkinson stepped to Goody Stickney and clapt her hand in her face and said she would spit in the face of any such that would call her a baud: and spit at her."

What happened after the baud-shaming and the spitting? Well, you'll have to wait until the next newsletter. Let’s just say, it doesn’t end well for anyone. There’s attempted murder, slander, witchcraft accusations, at least three lovers for the Widow Stickney, and an ongoing ferocious custody battle.

If you find me unconscious at the bottom of the Cushing House stairs after spreading this family gossip, you’ll know who came back from beyond to give me a shove. But tonight, whether she likes it or not, I will toast Mae Atkinson for all she did for this organization and for this community.