If you come upon an old crabapple tree out in the woods all by itself, you might think twice about walking by it without a proper greeting. Old Crabapple Annie was a witch who lived around here a few hundred years ago, back in the days when witches weren’t as welcome as they are today. She got the name Crabapple Annie because she used to tend a whole orchard full of crabapples. It was the only orchard she was allowed to have since the locals believed that she would sour their fruit if she were allowed near their orchards.
That didn’t quite sit right with Crabapple Annie because she
hadn’t done anything to anybody’s orchard, at least not too much. There was the time that young Jacob Potter
ran by her shouting, “Crabbyface Crabapple Annie, old sourpuss!” When he got home it seems every apple in his
orchard was infested with worms, and he had to pluck every single one out. When he didn’t work fast enough at it, his
mother boxed his ears. Of course, no one
could prove that Crabapple Annie had anything to do with the worms. Still, they whispered behind her back and
called her Crabby Annie. But most things
that happened to peoples’ orchards and crops and animals were just of a natural
course and had nothing to do with Crabapple Annie.
Young Jacob Potter never did forget that, though, and one
day he was old Jacob Potter. Anytime he
saw Crabapple Annie, he would scowl at her and shake his fist, and she’d toss
him a crabapple and say, “Eat up, Potter boy, at least this one don’t have no
worms!” As the years went by, old Jacob
began to hate her more and more.
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| Old Crabapple Annie's orchard. |
One day it occurred to Jacob that Crabapple Annie must be
very old, indeed. She always looked like
an old hag to him back when he was a child.
The trouble is, he wasn’t a child anymore. He was getting on in years himself, and yet
Crabapple Annie was still around and looked the same as ever. He began to spread rumors about old Annie,
telling people that she was an old witch.
He told them every time one of their younger animals died unexpectedly,
it was because old Crabapple Annie had killed it and taken its life into her body
so she wouldn’t die. Most people had
always thought old Annie was a witch, but they thought she was a pretty
harmless one. You know how people can be,
though: So full of superstition and
willing to blame someone else for their problems. Jacob continued the rumors over and over
until everyone was afraid of old Annie and wanted her gone from the village.
Finally, old Jacob got up enough men from the village to go
down to Annie’s house one night to burn it to the ground with her in it. They had drunk a lot of hard cider and
weren’t thinking quite right, and so off they headed to Annie’s place with
pitchforks and torches in hand. But when
they got there, they had a bit of a surprise.
It seems old Annie was expecting them.
She was sitting out underneath an old crabapple tree, singing,
“Wassail! Wassail!” She had several large jugs of hard mulled
cider next to her and she invited them all over to have a drink. “Wassail!
Wassail!” she sang.
Most of the village men threw their torches and pitchforks
down and began drinking the cider. They
were a bit wary of old Annie, but good cider is good cider. In the meantime, Jacob was furious. He grabbed a torch and ran behind old Annie’s
house and set fire to it in several places.
By the time anyone knew what had happened, Annie’s house was ablaze and
unsalvageable. Old Annie let out a
shriek but calmed down soon enough when she saw Jacob coming around to the
tree.
“I saved a special jug for you,” she said.
“Pah!” he spat.
But all the men were chanting, “Wassail, wassail,
wassail! Drink up, Jacob! Drink your health!”
And so he did. He
grabbed the jug and began to drink as quickly as he could so he could get out
of there and go home. Things hadn’t gone
exactly as he planned because Annie was still alive, and now she had no place
to stay. But as he was drinking, Annie
crept up to the jug and tapped it on the bottom, saying “Crabapple, crabapple,
fly to your mark!” No one heard her
because everyone was still drinking.
Except for the crabapple that was in the bottom of the jug. It crept up the jug, into Jacob’s mouth, and
lodged right in his throat! No matter
how hard he tried to expel it, it wouldn’t budge. He tried to get people’s attention, but by
this time they were all drunk.
Old Jacob fell down at the base of a crabapple tree. Old Annie’s house burnt straight to the
ground. In the morning, the tipsy
villagers all woke up with headaches to find that Jacob was dead, Annie’s house
was burnt to the ground, and she had disappeared. They were beside themselves with fear! They grabbed their pitchforks and headed
home. Someone helped carry Jacob’s body
home on the back of a horse.
They did their best to forget about it, but every Fall when
the crabapples ripened at Old Annie’s orchard, they minded their manners. They all had to pass by it almost daily on
their way to and fro. “Good Morning,
Annie. You sure do look pretty today!”
they’d say, and tip their hats and head quickly on their way. And woe to him who didn’t greet her
kindly. He’d hear, “Wassail! Wassail!” and crabapples would fly out of the
tree and pelt the miscreant on the face and back until he was black and blue
all the way through. I can honestly tell
you that never again in that village did anyone say, “Crabbyface Crabapple
Annie, old sourpuss!”
