This is a modern-English version of Salem Witchcraft, Volumes I and II: With an Account of Salem Village and a History of Opinions on Witchcraft and Kindred Subjects, originally written by Upham, Charles Wentworth. It has been thoroughly updated, including changes to sentence structure, words, spelling, and grammar—to ensure clarity for contemporary readers, while preserving the original spirit and nuance. If you click on a paragraph, you will see the original text that we modified, and you can toggle between the two versions.

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AMERICAN CLASSICS


SALEM WITCHCRAFT

With an Account of Salem Village
and
A History of Opinions on
Witchcraft and Kindred Subjects

CHARLES W. UPHAM

Volumes I and II

Charles W. Upham

Charles W. Upham

Charles W. Upham

Charles W. Upham


FREDERICK UNGAR PUBLISHING CO.

Fredrick Ungar Publishing Co.

New York

New York City

[Transcriber's Note: Originally published 1867]

[Transcriber's Note: Originally published 1867]

Fourth Printing, 1969
Printed in the United States of America
Library of Congress Catalog Card No. 59-10887

Fourth Printing, 1969
Printed in the United States of America
Library of Congress Catalog Card No. 59-10887


CONTENTS.


  Page
Preface vii to xiv
Map and Illustrations xv to xvii
Index to the Map xix to xxvii
General Index xxix to xl
Introduction 1 to 12
Part First.—Salem Village 13 to 322
Part Second.—Witchcraft 325 to 469
Part Third.—Witchcraft at Salem Village 1 to 444
Supplement 447 to 522
Appendix 525 to 553

THE TOWNSEND BISHOP HOUSE.Vol. I., 70, 96; Vol. II., 294, 467.

THE TOWNSEND BISHOP HOUSE.Vol. I., __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__; __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_2__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_3__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_4__.


DEDICATED

TO

OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES,

PROFESSOR OF ANATOMY AND PHYSIOLOGY IN

HARVARD UNIVERSITY.

VOLUME I.


PREFACE.


THIS work was originally constructed, and in previous editions appeared, in the form of Lectures. The only vestiges of that form, in its present shape, are certain modes of expression. The language retains the character of an address by a speaker to his hearers; being more familiar, direct, and personal than is ordinarily employed in the relations of an author to a reader.

THIS work was originally created and appeared in earlier editions as Lectures. The only remnants of that format in its current form are certain ways of speaking. The language still has the feel of a speaker addressing an audience, being more casual, direct, and personal than what is typically used in the relationship between an author and a reader.

The former work was prepared under circumstances which prevented a thorough investigation of the subject. Leisure and freedom from professional duties have now enabled me to prosecute the researches necessary to do justice to it.

The earlier work was done under conditions that didn’t allow for a deep dive into the topic. Now that I have the time and freedom from professional responsibilities, I’ve been able to conduct the research needed to properly address it.

The "Lectures on Witchcraft," published in 1831, have long been out of print. Although frequently importuned to prepare a new edition, I was unwilling to issue again what I had discovered to be an insufficient presentation of the subject. In the mean time,[i.viii] it constantly became more and more apparent, that much injury was resulting from the want of a complete and correct view of a transaction so often referred to, and universally misunderstood.

The "Lectures on Witchcraft," published in 1831, have been out of print for a long time. Even though I’ve often been asked to prepare a new edition, I didn't want to release again what I realized was an inadequate presentation of the topic. In the meantime,[i.viii] it became increasingly clear that a lot of harm was coming from the lack of a complete and accurate understanding of a situation that is frequently mentioned and widely misunderstood.

The first volume of this work contains what seems to me necessary to prepare the reader for the second, in which the incidents and circumstances connected with the witchcraft prosecutions in 1692, at the village and in the town of Salem, are reduced to chronological order, and exhibited in detail.

The first volume of this work includes everything I think is necessary to prepare the reader for the second, which organizes and details the events and circumstances related to the witchcraft trials in 1692, both in the village and the town of Salem.

As showing how far the beliefs of the understanding, the perceptions of the senses, and the delusions of the imagination, may be confounded, the subject belongs not only to theology and moral and political science, but to physiology, in its original and proper use, as embracing our whole nature; and the facts presented may help to conclusions relating to what is justly regarded as the great mystery of our being,—the connection between the body and the mind.

As a demonstration of how the beliefs of our understanding, the perceptions of our senses, and the illusions of our imagination can be mixed up, this topic relates not just to theology and moral and political science, but also to physiology in its proper sense, as it encompasses our entire nature. The facts presented may contribute to conclusions regarding what is truly seen as the significant mystery of our existence—the relationship between the body and the mind.

It is unnecessary to mention the various well-known works of authority and illustration, as they are referred to in the text. But I cannot refrain from bearing my grateful testimony to the value of the "Collections of the Massachusetts Historical Society" and the "New-England Historical and Genealogical Register." The "Historical Collections" and the "Proceedings" of the Essex Institute have afforded me inestimable assistance. Such works as these are providing the materials[i.ix] that will secure to our country a history such as no other nation can have. Our first age will not be shrouded in darkness and consigned to fable, but, in all its details, brought within the realm of knowledge. Every person who desires to preserve the memory of his ancestors, and appreciate the elements of our institutions and civilization, ought to place these works, and others like them, on the shelves of his library, in an unbroken and continuing series. A debt of gratitude is due to the earnest, laborious, and disinterested students who are contributing the results of their explorations to the treasures of antiquarian and genealogical learning which accumulate in these publications.

It's not necessary to mention the various well-known authoritative works and illustrations, as they're referenced in the text. However, I can't help but express my gratitude for the value of the "Collections of the Massachusetts Historical Society" and the "New-England Historical and Genealogical Register." The "Historical Collections" and the "Proceedings" of the Essex Institute have provided me with invaluable assistance. Works like these are supplying the materials[i.ix] that will ensure our country has a history unlike any other nation. Our early years will not be lost to darkness and myth, but instead, every detail will be within the realm of knowledge. Anyone who wants to honor the memory of their ancestors and understand the foundations of our institutions and civilization should add these works, and others like them, to their library in a continuous collection. We owe a debt of gratitude to the dedicated, hardworking, and selfless scholars who are contributing their findings to the wealth of antiquarian and genealogical knowledge that accumulates in these publications.

A source of investigation, especially indispensable in the preparation of the present work, deserves to be particularly noticed. In 1647, the General Court of Massachusetts provided by law for the taking of testimony, in all cases, under certain regulations, in the form of depositions, to be preserved in perpetuam rei memoriam. The evidence of witnesses was prepared in writing, beforehand, to be used at the trials; they to be present at the time, to meet further inquiry, if living within ten miles, and not unavoidably prevented. In a capital case, the presence of the witness, as well as his written testimony, was absolutely required. These depositions were lodged in the files, and constitute the most valuable materials of history. In our[i.x] day, the statements of witnesses ordinarily live only in the memory of persons present at the trials, and are soon lost in oblivion. In cases attracting unusual interest, stenographers are employed to furnish them to the press. There were no newspaper reporters or "court calendars" in the early colonial times; but these depositions more than supply their place. Given in, as they were, in all sorts of cases,—of wills, contracts, boundaries and encroachments, assault and battery, slander, larceny, &c., they let us into the interior, the very inmost recesses, of life and society in all their forms. The extent to which, by the aid of William P. Upham, Esq., of Salem, I have drawn from this source is apparent at every page.

A key source of research, especially crucial for this work, deserves special mention. In 1647, the General Court of Massachusetts established a law for collecting testimony in all cases, under certain rules, in the form of depositions, to be preserved in perpetuam rei memoriam. Witness statements were prepared in writing beforehand to be used in trials; they were required to be present at the time to answer further questions if they lived within ten miles and weren't unavoidably prevented. In a capital case, both the witness's presence and their written testimony were absolutely required. These depositions were filed away and represent the most valuable historical materials. Nowadays, witness statements usually only exist in the memories of those who were present at the trials and are quickly forgotten. In cases of particular interest, stenographers are brought in to provide them to the press. There were no newspaper reporters or "court calendars" in early colonial times, but these depositions more than fill that role. Given in all kinds of cases—wills, contracts, property disputes, assault and battery, slander, larceny, etc.—they give us a glimpse into the very essence and details of life and society in all its forms. The extent to which, with the help of William P. Upham, Esq., of Salem, I have drawn from this source is evident on every page.

A word is necessary to be said relating to the originals of the documents that belong to the witchcraft proceedings. They were probably all deposited at the time in the clerk's office of Essex County. A considerable number of them were, from some cause, transferred to the State archives, and have been carefully preserved. Of the residue, a very large proportion have been abstracted from time to time by unauthorized hands, and many, it is feared, destroyed or otherwise lost. Two very valuable parcels have found their way into the libraries of the Massachusetts Historical Society and the Essex Institute, where they are faithfully secured. A few others have come to light among papers in the possession of individuals. It is to be[i.xi] hoped, that, if any more should be found, they will be lodged in some public institution; so that, if thought best, they may all be collected, arranged, and placed beyond wear, tear, and loss, in the perpetual custody of type.

A word needs to be said about the original documents related to the witchcraft proceedings. They were likely all kept at the clerk's office in Essex County at the time. For some reason, a significant number of them were moved to the State archives and have been well preserved. A large portion of the rest has been removed over time by unauthorized individuals, and many are feared to have been destroyed or lost. Two very valuable collections have made their way into the libraries of the Massachusetts Historical Society and the Essex Institute, where they are safely kept. A few others have appeared among papers owned by individuals. It is hoped that if any more are found, they will be placed in a public institution so that, if deemed necessary, they can all be collected, organized, and kept safe from damage and loss in permanent storage.

The papers remaining in the office of the clerk of this county were transcribed into a volume a few years since; the copyist supplying, conjecturally, headings to the several documents. Although he executed his work in an elegant manner, and succeeded in giving correctly many documents hard to be deciphered, such errors, owing to the condition of the papers, occurred in arranging them, transcribing their contents, and framing their headings, that I have had to resort to the originals throughout.

The papers still in the county clerk's office were copied into a book a few years ago; the person who copied them added headings to the various documents based on guesses. While he did an impressive job and accurately transcribed many documents that were difficult to read, there were enough mistakes caused by the condition of the papers when organizing, copying their contents, and creating their headings that I had to go back to the originals for everything.

As the object of this work is to give to the reader of the present day an intelligible view of a transaction of the past, and not to illustrate any thing else than the said transaction, no attempt has been made to preserve the orthography of that period. Most of the original papers were written without any expectation that they would ever be submitted to inspection in print; many of them by plain country people, without skill in the structure of sentences, or regard to spelling; which, in truth, was then quite unsettled. It is no uncommon thing to find the same word spelled differently in the same document. It is very questionable whether it is expedient or just to perpetuate[i.xii] blemishes, often the result of haste or carelessness, arising from mere inadvertence. In some instances, where the interest of the passage seemed to require it, the antique style is preserved. In no case is a word changed or the structure altered; but the now received spelling is generally adopted, and the punctuation made to express the original sense.

The purpose of this work is to provide today's readers with a clear understanding of a past event, and not to illustrate anything beyond that event. Therefore, there has been no effort to maintain the spelling from that time. Most of the original documents were written without any expectation that they would be published, many by ordinary country people who lacked skills in sentence structure or attention to spelling, which was, in fact, very inconsistent back then. It's common to find the same word spelled differently within the same document. It's questionable whether it's useful or fair to keep[i.xii] mistakes that often came from haste or carelessness due to simple oversight. In some cases, where the meaning of the passage seemed to require it, the old style is maintained. No words are changed, and the structure is not altered; however, the current spelling is generally used, and the punctuation is adjusted to reflect the original meaning.

It is indeed necessary, in what claims to be an exact reprint of an old work, to imitate its orthography precisely, even at the expense of difficulty in apprehending at once the meaning, and of perpetuating errors of carelessness and ignorance. Such modern reproductions are valuable, and have an interest of their own. They deserve the favor of all who desire to examine critically, and in the most authentic form, publications of which the original copies are rare, and the earliest editions exhausted. The enlightened and enterprising publishers who are thus providing facsimiles of old books and important documents of past ages ought to be encouraged and rewarded by a generous public. But the present work does not belong to that class, or make any pretensions of that kind.

It’s definitely important, when claiming to reprint an old work exactly, to replicate its spelling precisely, even if it makes understanding the text more difficult and keeps alive mistakes born from carelessness and ignorance. These modern reproductions are valuable and have their own significance. They deserve support from anyone interested in critically examining, in the most authentic form, publications of which the original copies are rare and the earliest editions are sold out. The thoughtful and adventurous publishers who are creating facsimiles of old books and important documents from the past should be encouraged and supported by a generous public. However, this particular work doesn’t fit into that category, nor does it claim to do so.

My thanks are especially due to the Hon. Asahel Huntington, clerk of the courts in Essex County, for his kindness in facilitating the use of the materials in his office; to the Hon. Oliver Warner, secretary of the Commonwealth, and the officers of his department; and to Stephen N. Gifford, Esq., clerk of the Senate.[i.xiii]

My thanks especially go to the Hon. Asahel Huntington, clerk of the courts in Essex County, for his help in allowing access to the materials in his office; to the Hon. Oliver Warner, secretary of the Commonwealth, and the staff in his department; and to Stephen N. Gifford, Esq., clerk of the Senate.[i.xiii]

David Pulsifer, Esq., in the office of the Secretary of State, is well known for his pre-eminent skill and experience in mastering the chirography of the primitive colonial times, and elucidating its peculiarities. He has been unwearied in his labors, and most earnest in his efforts, to serve me.

David Pulsifer, Esq., in the office of the Secretary of State, is widely recognized for his exceptional skill and experience in understanding the handwriting of early colonial times and explaining its unique features. He has worked tirelessly and passionately to assist me.

Mr. Samuel G. Drake, who has so largely illustrated our history and explored its sources, has, by spontaneous and considerate acts of courtesy rendered me important help. Similar expressions of friendly interest by Mr. William B. Towne, of Brookline, Mass.; Hon. J. Hammond Trumbull, of Hartford, Conn.; and George H. Moore, Esq., of New-York City,—are gratefully acknowledged.

Mr. Samuel G. Drake, who has greatly contributed to our history and researched its sources, has provided me with significant help through his thoughtful and generous actions. I also want to sincerely thank Mr. William B. Towne from Brookline, Mass.; Hon. J. Hammond Trumbull from Hartford, Conn.; and George H. Moore, Esq., from New York City, for their friendly support.

Samuel P. Fowler, Esq., of Danvers, generously placed at my disposal his valuable stores of knowledge relating to the subject. The officers in charge of the original papers, in the Historical Society and the Essex Institute, have allowed me to examine and use them.

Samuel P. Fowler, Esq., of Danvers, generously offered me access to his valuable knowledge on the subject. The officers in charge of the original documents at the Historical Society and the Essex Institute have permitted me to review and utilize them.

I cordially express my acknowledgments to the Hon. Benjamin F. Browne, of Salem, who, retired from public life and the cares of business, is giving the leisure of his venerable years to the collection, preservation, and liberal contribution of an unequalled amount of knowledge respecting our local antiquities.

I sincerely thank the Hon. Benjamin F. Brown of Salem, who, after stepping back from public life and business responsibilities, is dedicating his time to collecting, preserving, and generously sharing an unmatched wealth of knowledge about our local history.

Charles W. Palfray, Esq., while attending the General Court as a Representative of Salem, in 1866,[i.xiv] gave me the great benefit of his explorations among the records and papers in the State House.

Charles W. Palfrey, Esq., while serving as a Representative of Salem at the General Court in 1866,[i.xiv] provided me with the valuable insights from his research among the records and documents in the State House.

Mr. Moses Prince, of Danvers Centre, is an embodiment of the history, genealogy, and traditions of that locality, and has taken an active and zealous interest in the preparation of this work. Andrew Nichols, Esq., of Danvers, and the family of the late Colonel Perley Putnam, of Salem, also rendered me much aid.

Mr. Moses Prince from Danvers Center represents the history, ancestry, and traditions of the area, and he has shown a strong and enthusiastic interest in putting this work together. Andrew Nichols, Esq., of Danvers, along with the family of the late Colonel Perley Putnam from Salem, also provided me with significant support.

I am indebted to Charles Davis, Esq., of Beverly, for the use of the record-book of the church, composed of "the brethren and sisters belonging to Bass River," gathered Sept. 20, 1667, now the First Church of Beverly; and to James Hill, Esq., town-clerk of that place, for access to the records in his charge.

I want to thank Charles Davis, Esq., of Beverly, for letting me use the church’s record book, which listed "the brethren and sisters belonging to Bass River," gathered on September 20, 1667, now known as the First Church of Beverly; and James Hill, Esq., the town clerk of that area, for giving me access to the records he manages.

To Gilbert Tapley, Esq., chairman of the committee of the parish, and Augustus Mudge, Esq., its clerk, and to the Rev. Mr. Rice, pastor of the church, at Danvers Centre, I cannot adequately express my obligations. Without the free use of the original parish and church record-books with which they intrusted me, and having them constantly at hand, I could not have begun adequately to tell the story of Salem Village or the Witchcraft Delusion.

To Gilbert Tapley, Esq., chairman of the parish committee, and Augustus Mudge, Esq., its clerk, and to the Rev. Mr. Rice, pastor of the church at Danvers Centre, I can’t fully express my gratitude. Without the unrestricted access to the original parish and church record books they entrusted to me, and having them readily available, I wouldn't have been able to start telling the story of Salem Village or the Witchcraft Delusion properly.

C.W.U.

C.W.U.


MAP AND ILLUSTRATIONS.


The map, based upon various local maps and the Coast-Survey chart, is the result of much personal exploration and perambulation of the ground. It may claim to be a very exact representation of many of the original grants and farms. The locality of the houses, mills, and bridges, in 1692, is given in some cases precisely, and in all with near approximation. The task has been a difficult one. An original plot of Governor Endicott's Ipswich River grant, No. III., is in the State House, and one of the Swinnerton grant, No. XIX., in the Salem town-books. Neither of them, however, affords elements by which to establish its exact location. A plot of the Townsend Bishop grant, No. XX., as its boundaries were finally determined, is in the State House, and another of the same in the court-files of the county. This gives one fixed and known point, Hadlock's Bridge, from which, following the lines by points of compass and distances, as indicated on the plot and described in the Colonial Records, all the sides of the grant are laid out with accuracy, and its place on the map determined with absolute certainty. A very perfect and scientifically executed plan of a part of the boundary between Salem and Reading in[i.xvi] 1666 is in the State House; of which an exact tracing was kindly furnished by Mr. H.J. Coolidge, of the Secretary of State's office. It gives two of the sides of the Governor Bellingham grant, No. IV., in such a manner as to afford the means of projecting it with entire certainty, and fixing its locality. There are no other plots of original or early grants or farms on this territory; but, starting from the Bishop and Bellingham grants thus laid out in their respective places, by a collation of deeds of conveyance and partition on record, with the aid of portions of the primitive stone-walls still remaining, and measurements resting on permanent objects, the entire region has been reduced to a demarkation comprehending the whole area. The locations of then-existing roads have been obtained from the returns of laying-out committees, and other evidence in the records and files. The construction of the map, in all its details, is the result of the researches and labors of W.P. Upham.

The map, based on various local maps and the Coast-Survey chart, comes from extensive personal exploration of the area. It can be considered a very accurate representation of many of the original land grants and farms. The locations of the houses, mills, and bridges from 1692 are given in some cases precisely, and in all with close approximation. The task has been challenging. An original plot of Governor Endicott's Ipswich River grant, No. III., is in the State House, and one of the Swinnerton grant, No. XIX., can be found in the Salem town-books. However, neither of these provides the information needed to pinpoint its exact location. A plot of the Townsend Bishop grant, No. XX., as its boundaries were ultimately defined, is in the State House, and another one can be found in the court files of the county. This provides one fixed and known point, Hadlock's Bridge, from which, following the lines based on compass directions and distances as outlined in the plot and described in the Colonial Records, all sides of the grant can be accurately determined, ensuring its location on the map is confirmed with complete certainty. A very detailed and scientifically executed plan of part of the boundary between Salem and Reading in[i.xvi] 1666 exists in the State House; an exact tracing was graciously supplied by Mr. H.J. Coolidge from the Secretary of State's office. It gives two sides of the Governor Bellingham grant, No. IV., in such a way that allows for its precise projection and localization. There are no other plots of original or early grants or farms in this area; however, starting from the Bishop and Bellingham grants positioned accurately, a combination of recorded deeds of transfer and partition, along with parts of the original stone walls still standing, and measurements based on permanent features, has allowed the entire region to be mapped out into a comprehensive boundary. The locations of existing roads have been determined from the reports of laying-out committees and other evidence found in the records and files. The construction of the map, in all its details, is based on the research and efforts of W.P. Upham.

The death-warrant is a photograph by E.R. Perkins, of Salem. The original, among the papers on file in the office of the clerk of the courts of Essex County, having always been regarded as a great curiosity, has been subjected to constant handling, and become much obscured by dilapidation. The letters, and in some instances entire words, at the end of the lines, are worn off. To preserve it, if possible, from further injury, it has been pasted on cloth. Owing to this circumstance, and the yellowish hue to which the paper has faded, it does not take favorably by photograph; but the exactness of imitation, which can only thus be obtained with absolute certainty, is more important than any other consideration. Only so much as contains the body of the warrant, the sheriff's return, and the seal, are given.[i.xvii] The tattered margins are avoided, as they reveal the cloth, and impair the antique aspect of the document. The original is slowly disintegrating and wasting away, notwithstanding the efforts to preserve it; and its appearance, as seen to-day, can only be perpetuated in photograph. The warrant is reduced about one-third, and the return one-half.

The death-warrant is a photograph by E.R. Perkins from Salem. The original, which is filed in the office of the clerk of the courts of Essex County, has always been considered a fascinating item. It has been handled so much that it has become very worn and faded. The letters and, in some cases, entire words at the ends of the lines are almost gone. To protect it from further damage, it has been glued to cloth. Because of this, and the yellowish tint the paper has taken on, it doesn't photograph well. However, achieving a precise imitation, which can only be done this way, is more important than anything else. Only the part that contains the body of the warrant, the sheriff's return, and the seal are included.[i.xvii] The frayed edges are left out to avoid showing the cloth and ruining the old look of the document. The original is slowly falling apart, even with efforts to keep it safe; its current appearance can only be captured in a photograph. The warrant is reduced by about a third, and the return by half.

The Townsend Bishop house and the outlines of Witch Hill are from sketches by O.W.H. Upham. The English house is from a drawing made on the spot by J.R. Penniman of Boston, in 1822, a few years before its demolition, for the use of which I am indebted to James Kimball, Esq., of Salem. The view of Salem Village and of the Jacobs' house are reduced, by O.W.H. Upham, from photographs by E.R. Perkins.

The Townsend Bishop house and the outlines of Witch Hill are based on sketches by O.W.H. Upham. The English house comes from a drawing done on-site by Little Richard of Boston, in 1822, just a few years before it was demolished. I'm grateful to James Kimball, Esq., of Salem, for this. The view of Salem Village and the Jacobs' house have been reduced by O.W.H. Upham from photographs by E.R. Perkins.

The map and other engravings, including the autographs, were all delineated by O.W.H. Upham.

The map and other engravings, including the autographs, were all created by O.W.H. Upham.

[Transcriber's Note: The map was missing from the volume used to prepare this e-text. The map image below was reproduced from a scan at the University of Virginia's Salem Witch Trials Documentary Archive and Transcription Project, http://etext.virginia.edu/salem/witchcraft/maps.]

[b>Transcriber's Note: The map was missing from the volume used to prepare this e-text. The map image below was reproduced from a scan at the University of Virginia's Salem Witch Trials Documentary Archive and Transcription Project, http://etext.virginia.edu/salem/witchcraft/maps.]


 

Map of Salem Village.
1692.

Map of Salem Village.
1692.


INDEX TO THE MAP.


DWELLINGS IN 1692.

[The Map shows all the houses standing in 1692 within the bounds of Salem Village; some others in the vicinity are also given. The houses are numbered on the Map with Arabic numerals, 1, 2, 3, &c., beginning at the top, and proceeding from left to right. In the following list, against each number, is given the name of the occupant in 1692, and, in some cases, that of the recent occupant or owner of the locality is added in parenthesis.]

[The Map shows all the houses that existed in 1692 within the bounds of Salem Village; a few others in the nearby area are also included. The houses are numbered on the Map with Arabic numerals, 1, 2, 3, etc., starting from the top and moving from left to right. In the following list, next to each number, you'll find the name of the occupant in 1692, and, in some cases, the name of the current occupant or owner of the locality is added in parentheses.]

ABBREVIATIONS USED IN THIS LIST.

s. The same house believed to be still standing.
s.m. The same house standing within the memory of persons now living.
t.r. Traces of the house remain.
c. The site given is conjectural.

 

1. John Willard. c.

John Willard. c.

2. Isaac Easty.

Isaac Easty.

3. Francis Peabody. c.

3. Francis Peabody. circa

4. Joseph Porter. (John Bradstreet.)

4. Joseph Porter. (John Bradstreet.)

5. William Hobbs. t.r.

William Hobbs. t.r.

6. John Robinson.

John Robinson.

7. William Nichols. t.r.

William Nichols. t.r.

8. Bray Wilkins. c.

8. Bray Wilkins. circa

9. Aaron Way. (A. Batchelder.)

9. Aaron Way. (A. Batchelder.)

10. Thomas Bailey.

10. Thomas Bailey.

11. Thomas Fuller, Sr. (Abijah Fuller.)

11. Thomas Fuller, Sr. (Abijah Fuller.)

12. William Way.

12. William Way.

13. Francis Elliot. c.

Francis Elliot. circa

14. Jonathan Knight. c.

14. Jonathan Knight. circa

15. Thomas Cave. (Jonathan Berry.)

Thomas Cave. (Jon Berry.)

16. Philip Knight. (J.D. Andrews.)

16. Philip Knight. (J.D. Andrews.)

17. Isaac Burton.

17. Isaac Burton.

18. John Nichols, Jr. (Jonathan Perry and Aaron Jenkins.) s.

18. John Nichols, Jr. (Jonathan Perry and Aaron Jenkins.) s.

19. Humphrey Case. t.r.

19. Humphrey Case. t.r.

20. Thomas Fuller, Jr. (J.A. Esty.) s.

20. Thomas Fuller, Jr. (J.A. Esty.) s.

21. Jacob Fuller.

Jacob Fuller.

22. Benjamin Fuller.

22. Ben Fuller.

23. Deacon Edward Putnam. s.m.

23. Deacon Edward Putnam. s.m.

24. Sergeant Thomas Putnam. (Moses Perkins.) s.

24. Sergeant Thomas Putnam. (Moses Perkins.) s.

25. Peter Prescot. (Daniel Towne.)

25. Peter Prescott. (Daniel Towne.)

26. Ezekiel Cheever. (Chas. P. Preston.) s.m.

26. Ezekiel Cheever. (Chas. P. Preston.) s.m.

27. Eleazer Putnam. (John Preston.) s.m.

27. Eleazer Putnam. (John Preston.) s.m.

28. Henry Kenny.

28. Henry Kenny.

29. John Martin. (Edward Wyatt.)

29. John Martin. (Edward Wyatt.)

30. John Dale. (Philip H. Wentworth.)

30. John Dale. (Philip H. Wentworth.)

31. Joseph Prince. (Philip H. Wentworth.)

31. Joseph Prince. (Philip H. Wentworth.)

32. Joseph Putnam. (S. Clark.) s.

32. Joseph Putnam. (S. Clark.) s.

33. John Putnam 3d.

John Putnam III.

34. Benjamin Putnam.

34. Ben Putnam.

35. Daniel Andrew. (Joel Wilkins.)[i.xx]

35. Daniel Andrew. (Joel Wilkins.)[i.xx]

36. John Leach, Jr. c.

John Leach, Jr. c.

37. John Putnam, Jr. (Charles Peabody.)

37. John Putnam, Jr. (Charles Peabody.)

38. Joshua Rea. (Francis Dodge.) s.

38. Joshua Rea. (Francis Dodge.) son.

39. Mary, wid. of Thos. Putnam. (William R. Putnam.) s.

39. Mary, widow of Thomas Putnam. (William R. Putnam.) s.

[Birthplace of Gen. Israel Putnam. Gen. Putnam also lived in a house, the cellar and well of which are still visible, about one hundred rods north of this, and just west of the present dwelling of Andrew Nichols.]

[Birthplace of Gen. Israel Putnam. Gen. Putnam also lived in a house, the cellar and well of which are still visible, about one hundred yards north of this, and just west of the current home of Andrew Nichols.]

40. Alexander Osburn and James Prince. (Stephen Driver.) s.

40. Alexander Osburn and James Prince. (Stephen Driver.) s.

41. Jonathan Putnam. (Nath. Boardman.) s.

41. Jonathan Putnam. (Nath. Boardman.) s.

42. George Jacobs, Jr.

George Jacobs Jr.

43. Peter Cloyse. t.r.

43. Peter Cloyse. t.r.

44. William Small. s.m.

44. William Small. s.m.

45. John Darling. (George Peabody.) s.m.

John Darling. (George Peabody.) s.m.

46. James Putnam. (Wm. A. Lander.) s.m.

46. James Putnam. (Wm. A. Lander.) s.m.

47. Capt. John Putnam. (Wm. A. Lander.)

47. Capt. John Putnam. (Wm. A. Lander.)

48. Daniel Rea. (Augustus Fowler.) s.

48. Daniel Rea. (Augustus Fowler.) s.

49. Henry Brown.

Henry Brown.

50. John Hutchinson. (George Peabody.) t.r.

50. John Hutchinson. (George Peabody.) t.r.

51. Joseph Whipple. s.m.

51. Joseph Whipple. sm.

52. Benjamin Porter. (Joseph S. Cabot.)

52. Benjamin Porter. (Joseph S. Cabot.)

53. Joseph Herrick. (R.P. Waters.)

53. Joseph Herrick. (R.P. Waters.)

54. John Phelps. c.

John Phelps. c.

55. George Flint. c.

George Flint. c.

56. Ruth Sibley. s.m.

56. Ruth Sibley. s.m.

57. John Buxton.

John Buxton.

58. William Allin.

William Allin.

59. Samuel Brabrook. c.

59. Samuel Brabrook. circa

60. James Smith.

60. James Smith.

61. Samuel Sibley. t.r.

61. Samuel Sibley. t.r.

62. Rev. James Bayley. (Benjamin Hutchinson.)

62. Rev. James Bayley. (Benjamin Hutchinson.)

63. John Shepherd. (Rev. M.P. Braman.)

63. John Shepherd. (Rev. M.P. Braman.)

64. John Flint.

64. John Flint.

65. John Rea. s.m.

65. John Rea. s.m.

66. Joshua Rea. (Adam Nesmith.) s.m.

66. Joshua Rea. (Adam Nesmith.) s.m.

67. Jeremiah Watts.

Jeremiah Watts.

68. Edward Bishop, the sawyer. (Josiah Trask.)

68. Edward Bishop, the lumberjack. (Josiah Trask.)

69. Edward Bishop, husbandman.

69. Edward Bishop, farmer.

70. Capt. Thomas Rayment.

Capt. Thomas Rayment.

71. Joseph Hutchinson, Jr. (Job Hutchinson.)

71. Joseph Hutchinson, Jr. (Job Hutchinson.)

72. William Buckley.

72. William Buckley.

73. Joseph Houlton, Jr. t.r.

73. Joseph Houlton, Jr. t.r.

74. Thomas Haines. (Elijah Pope.) s.

74. Thomas Haines. (Elijah Pope.) son.

75. John Houlton. (F.A. Wilkins.) s.

75. John Houlton. (F.A. Wilkins.) s.

76. Joseph Houlton, Sr. (Isaac Demsey.)

76. Joseph Houlton, Sr. (Isaac Demsey.)

77. Joseph Hutchinson, Sr. t.r.

77. Joseph Hutchinson, Sr. t.r.

78. John Hadlock. (Saml. P. Nourse.) s.m.

78. John Hadlock. (Saml. P. Nourse.) s.m.

79. Nathaniel Putnam. (Judge Putnam.) t.r.

79. Nathaniel Putnam. (Judge Putnam.) t.r.

80. Israel Porter. s.m.

80. Israel Porter. s.m.

81. James Kettle.

James Kettle.

82. Royal Side Schoolhouse.

Royal Side School.

83. Dr. William Griggs.

Dr. William Griggs.

84. John Trask. (I. Trask.) s.

84. John Trask. (I. Trask.) s.

85. Cornelius Baker.

85. Cornelius Baker.

86. Exercise Conant. (Subsequently, Rev. John Chipman.)

86. Exercise Conant. (Later, Rev. John Chipman.)

87. Deacon Peter Woodberry. t.r.

Deacon Peter Woodberry. t.r.

88. John Rayment, Sr. (Col. J.W. Raymond.)

88. John Rayment, Sr. (Col. J.W. Raymond.)

89. Joseph Swinnerton. (Nathl. Pope.)

Joseph Swinnerton (Nathl. Pope)

90. Benjamin Hutchinson. s.m.

90. Benjamin Hutchinson. s.m.

91. Job Swinnerton. (Amos Cross.)

91. Job Swinnerton. (Amos Cross.)

92. Henry Houlton. (Artemas Wilson.)

92. Henry Houlton. (Artemas Wilson.)

93. Sarah, widow of Benjamin Houlton. (Judge Houlton.) s.

93. Sarah, widow of Benjamin Houlton. (Judge Houlton.) s.

94. Samuel Rea.

94. Samuel Rea.

95. Francis Nurse. (Orin Putnam.) s.

95. Francis Nurse. (Orin Putnam.) s.

96. Samuel Nurse. (E.G. Hyde.) s.

96. Samuel Nurse. (E.G. Hyde.) s.

97. John Tarbell. s.

97. John Tarbell. son

98. Thomas Preston.

98. Tom Preston.

99. Jacob Barney.

99. Jacob Barney.

100. Sergeant John Leach, Sr. (George Southwick.) s.m.

100. Sergeant John Leach, Sr. (George Southwick.) s.m.

101. Capt. John Dodge, Jr. (Charles Davis.) t.r.

101. Capt. John Dodge, Jr. (Charles Davis.) t.r.

102. Henry Herrick. (Nathl. Porter.)

102. Henry Herrick. (Nathaniel Porter.)

[This had been the homestead of his father, Henry Herrick.]

[This had been the homestead of his father, Henry Herrick.]

103. Lot Conant.

103 Conant St.

[This was the homestead of his father, Roger Conant.]

[This was the home of his father, Roger Conant.]

104. Benjamin Balch, Sr. (Azor Dodge.) s.

104. Benjamin Balch, Sr. (Azor Dodge.) s.

[This was the homestead of his father, John Balch.]

[This was the family home of his father, John Balch.]

105. Thomas Gage. (Charles Davis.) s.

105. Thomas Gage. (Charles Davis.) s.

106. Families of Trask, Grover, Haskell, and Elliott.

106. Families of Trask, Grover, Haskell, and Elliott.

107. Rev. John Hale.

107. Rev. John Hale.

108. Dorcas, widow of William Hoar.

108. Dorcas, the widow of William Hoar.

109. William and Samuel Upton. c.

109. William and Samuel Upton. c.

110. Abraham and John Smith. (J. Smith.) s.

110. Abraham and John Smith. (J. Smith.) s.

[This had been the homestead of Robert Goodell.]

[This had been the home of Robert Goodell.]

111. Isaac Goodell. (Perley Goodale.)

111. Isaac Goodell. (Perley Goodale.)

112. Abraham Walcot. (Jasper Pope.) s.m.

112. Abraham Walcot. (Jasper Pope.) s.m.

113. Zachariah Goodell. (Jasper Pope.)

113. Zachariah Goodell. (Jasper Pope.)

114. Samuel Abbey.

Samuel Abbey.

115. John Walcot.

115. John Walcot.

116. Jasper Swinnerton. s.m.

116. Jasper Swinnerton. s.m.

117. John Weldon. Captain Samuel Gardner's farm. (Asa Gardner.)

117. John Weldon. Captain Samuel Gardner's farm. (Asa Gardner.)

118. Gertrude, widow of Joseph Pope. (Rev. Willard Spaulding.) s.m.

118. Gertrude, widow of Joseph Pope. (Rev. Willard Spaulding.) s.m.

119. Capt. Thomas Flint. s.

Capt. Thomas Flint. s.

120. Joseph Flint. s.

120. Joseph Flint. s.

121. Isaac Needham. c.

121. Isaac Needham. c.

122. The widow Sheldon and her daughter Susannah.

122. The widow Sheldon and her daughter Susannah.

123. Walter Phillips. (F. Peabody, Jr.)

123. Walter Phillips. (F. Peabody, Jr.)

124. Samuel Endicott. s.m.

124. Samuel Endicott. s.m.

125. Families of Creasy, King, Batchelder, and Howard.

125. Families of Creasy, King, Batchelder, and Howard.

126. John Green. (J. Green) s.

126. John Green. (J. Green) s.

127. John Parker.

John Parker.

128. Giles Corey. t.r.

128. Giles Corey. t.r.

129. Henry Crosby.

129. Henry Crosby.

130. Anthony Needham, Jr. (E. and J.S. Needham.)

130. Anthony Needham, Jr. (E. and J.S. Needham.)

131. Anthony Needham, Sr.

131. Anthony Needham Sr.

132. Nathaniel Felton. (Nathaniel Felton.) s.

132. Nathaniel Felton. (Nathaniel Felton.) son.

133. James Houlton. (Thorndike Procter.)

133. James Houlton. (Thorndike Procter.)

134. John Felton.

John Felton.

135. Sarah Phillips.

Sarah Phillips.

136. Benjamin Scarlett. (District Schoolhouse No. 6.)

136. Benjamin Scarlett. (District Schoolhouse No. 6.)

137. Benjamin Pope.

137. Ben Pope.

138. Robert Moulton. (T. Taylor.) c.

138. Robert Moulton. (T. Taylor.) circa.

139. John Procter.

John Proctor.

140. Daniel Epps. c.

140. Daniel Epps. circa

141. Joseph Buxton. c.

Joseph Buxton. c.

142. George Jacobs, Sr. (Allen Jacobs.) s.

142. George Jacobs, Sr. (Allen Jacobs.) s.

143. William Shaw.

143. William Shaw.

144. Alice, widow of Michael Shaflin. (J. King.)

144. Alice, widow of Michael Shaflin. (J. King.)

145. Families of Buffington, Stone, and Southwick.

145. Families of Buffington, Stone, and Southwick.

146. William Osborne.

William Osborne.

147. Families of Very, Gould, Follet, and Meacham.

147. Families of Very, Gould, Follet, and Meacham.

+ Nathaniel Ingersoll.

+ Nathaniel Ingersoll.

¶ Rev. Samuel Parris. t.r.

Rev. Samuel Parris. t.r.

□ Captain Jonathan Walcot. t.r.

□ Captain Jonathan Walcot. t.r.

TOWN OF SALEM.

[For the sites of the following dwellings, &c., referred to in the book, see the small capitals in the lower right-hand corner of the Map.]

[For the locations of the following homes, etc., mentioned in the book, see the small capitals in the lower right-hand corner of the Map.]

A. Jonathan Corwin.
B. Samuel Shattock, John Cook, Isaac Sterns, John Bly.
C. Bartholomew Gedney.
D. Stephen Sewall.
E. Court House.
F. Rev. Nicholas Noyes.
G. John Hathorne.
H. George Corwin, High-sheriff.
I. Bridget Bishop.
J. Meeting-house.
K. Gedney's "Ship Tavern."
L. The Prison.
M. Samuel Beadle.
N. Rev. John Higginson.
O. Ann Pudeator, John Best.
P. Capt. John Higginson.
Q. The Town Common.
R. John Robinson.
S. Christopher Babbage.
T. Thomas Beadle.
U. Philip English.
W. Place of execution, "Witch Hill."

A. Jonathan Corwin.
B. Samuel Shattock, John Cook, Isaac Sterns, John Bly.
C. Bartholomew Gedney.
D. Stephen Sewall.
E. Courthouse.
F. Rev. Nicholas Noyes.
G. John Hathorne.
H. George Corwin, High Sheriff.
I. Bridget Bishop.
J. Meeting house.
K. Gedney's "Ship Tavern."
L. The Prison.
M. Samuel Beadle.
N. Rev. John Higginson.
O. Ann Pudeator, John Best.
P. Capt. John Higginson.
Q. The Town Common.
R. John Robinson.
S. Christopher Babbage.
T. Thomas Beadle.
U. Philip English.
W. Place of execution, "Witch Hill."


GRANTS.

Note.—The grants are numbered on the Map with Roman numerals, the bounds being indicated by broken lines. They were all granted by the town of Salem, unless otherwise stated.

Note.—The grants are numbered on the Map with Roman numerals, and the boundaries are shown by broken lines. They were all granted by the town of Salem, unless stated otherwise.

I. John Gould.

I. John Gould.

Sold by him to Capt. George Corwin, March 29, 1674; and by Capt. Corwin's widow sold to Philip Knight, Thomas Wilkins, Sr., Henry Wilkins, and John Willard, March 1, 1690.

Sold by him to Captain George Corwin on March 29, 1674; and by Captain Corwin's widow sold to Philip Knight, Thomas Wilkins Sr., Henry Wilkins, and John Willard on March 1, 1690.

II. Zaccheus Gould.

II. Zaccheus Gould.

Sold by him to Capt. John Putnam before 1662; owned in 1692 by Capt. Putnam, Thomas Cave, Francis Elliot, John Nichols, Jr., Thomas Nichols, and William Way.

Sold by him to Captain John Putnam before 1662; owned in 1692 by Captain Putnam, Thomas Cave, Francis Elliot, John Nichols Jr., Thomas Nichols, and William Way.

The above, together, comprised land granted by the General Court to Rowley, May 31, 1652, and laid out by Rowley to John and Zaccheus Gould.[i.xxiii]

The above together included land granted by the General Court to Rowley on May 31, 1652, and allocated by Rowley to John and Zaccheus Gould.[i.xxiii]

III. Gov. John Endicott.

III. Gov. John Endicott.

Ipswich-river Farm, 550 acres, granted by the General Court, Nov. 5, 1639; owned in 1692 by his grandsons, Zerubabel, Benjamin, and Joseph.

Ipswich-River Farm, 550 acres, granted by the General Court on November 5, 1639; owned in 1692 by his grandsons, Zerubabel, Benjamin, and Joseph.

The General Court, Oct. 14, 1651, also granted to Gov. Endicott 300 acres on the southerly side of this farm, in "Blind Hole," on condition that he would set up copper-works. As the land appears afterwards to have been owned by John Porter, it is probable that the copper-mine was soon abandoned; but traces of it are still to be seen there.

The General Court, Oct. 14, 1651, also granted Governor Endicott 300 acres on the southern side of this farm, in "Blind Hole," on the condition that he would establish copper works. Since the land later seems to have been owned by John Porter, it’s likely that the copper mine was quickly abandoned; however, remnants of it can still be seen there.

IV. Gov. Richard Bellingham.

Gov. Richard Bellingham

Granted by the General Court, Nov. 5, 1639.

Granted by the General Court, Nov. 5, 1639.

V. Farmer John Porter.

V. Farmer John Porter.

Owned in 1692 by his son, Benjamin Porter. This includes a grant to Townsend Bishop, sold to John Porter in 1648; also 200 acres granted to John Porter, Sept. 30, 1647. That part in Topsfield was released by Topsfield to Benjamin Porter, May 2, 1687.

Owned in 1692 by his son, Benjamin Porter. This includes a grant to Townsend Bishop, sold to John Porter in 1648; also 200 acres granted to John Porter on September 30, 1647. The part in Topsfield was released by Topsfield to Benjamin Porter on May 2, 1687.

VI. Capt. Richard Davenport.

VI. Capt. Richard Davenport

Granted Feb. 20, 1637, and Nov. 26, 1638; sold, with the Hathorne farm, to John Putnam, John Hathorne, Richard Hutchinson, and Daniel Rea, April 17, 1662.

Granted Feb. 20, 1637, and Nov. 26, 1638; sold, along with the Hathorne farm, to John Putnam, John Hathorne, Richard Hutchinson, and Daniel Rea, on April 17, 1662.

VII. Capt. William Hathorne.

VII. Capt. William Hathorne.

Granted Feb. 17, 1637; sold with the above.

Granted February 17, 1637; sold along with the above.

VIII. John Putnam the Elder.

VIII. John Putnam the Elder.

This comprises a grant of 100 acres to John Putnam, Jan. 20, 1641; 80 acres to Ralph Fogg, in 1636; 40 acres (formerly Richard Waterman's) to Thomas Lothrop, Nov. 29, 1642; and 30 acres to Ann Scarlett, in 1636. The whole owned by James and Jonathan Putnam in 1692.

This includes a grant of 100 acres to John Putnam on January 20, 1641; 80 acres to Ralph Fogg in 1636; 40 acres (previously Richard Waterman's) to Thomas Lothrop on November 29, 1642; and 30 acres to Ann Scarlett in 1636. The entire property was owned by James and Jonathan Putnam in 1692.

IX. Daniel Rea.

IX. Daniel Rea.

Granted to him in 1636; owned by his grandson, Daniel Rea, in 1692.

Granted to him in 1636; owned by his grandson, Daniel Rea, in 1692.

X. Rev. Hugh Peters.

X. Rev. Hugh Peters.

Granted Nov. 12, 1638; laid out June 15, 1674, being then in the possession of Capt. John Corwin; sold by Mrs. Margaret Corwin to Henry Brown, May 22, 1693.

Granted Nov. 12, 1638; laid out June 15, 1674, while in the possession of Capt. John Corwin; sold by Mrs. Margaret Corwin to Henry Brown, May 22, 1693.

XI. Capt. George Corwin.

XI. Capt. George Corwin.

Granted Aug. 21, 1648; sold (including 30 acres formerly John Bridgman's) to Job Swinnerton, Jr., and William Cantlebury, Jan. 18, 1661.[i.xxiv]

Granted on August 21, 1648; sold (including 30 acres that were formerly John Bridgman's) to Job Swinnerton, Jr., and William Cantlebury on January 18, 1661.[i.xxiv]

XII. Richard Hutchinson, John Thorndike, and Mr. Freeman.

XII. Richard Hutchinson, John Thorndike, and Mr. Freeman..

Granted in 1636 and 1637; owned in 1692 by Joseph, son of Richard Hutchinson, and by Sarah, wife of Joseph Whipple, daughter of John, and grand-daughter of Richard Hutchinson.

Granted in 1636 and 1637; owned in 1692 by Joseph, son of Richard Hutchinson, and by Sarah, wife of Joseph Whipple, daughter of John, and granddaughter of Richard Hutchinson.

XIII. Samuel Sharpe.

XIII. Samuel Sharpe.

Granted Jan. 23, 1637; sold to John Porter, May 10, 1643; owned by his son, Israel Porter, in 1692.

Granted January 23, 1637; sold to John Porter on May 10, 1643; owned by his son, Israel Porter, in 1692.

XIV. John Holgrave.

XIV. John Holgrave.

Granted Nov. 26, 1638; sold to Jeffry Massey and Nicholas Woodberry, April 2, 1652; and to Joshua Rea, Jan. 1, 1657.

Granted Nov. 26, 1638; sold to Jeffry Massey and Nicholas Woodberry, April 2, 1652; and to Joshua Rea, Jan. 1, 1657.

XV. William Alford.

XV. William Alford.

Granted in 1636; sold to Henry Herrick before 1653.

Granted in 1636; sold to Henry Herrick before 1653.

XVI. Francis Weston.

XVI. Francis Weston.

Granted in 1636; sold by John Pease to Richard Ingersoll and William Haynes, in 1644.

Granted in 1636; sold by John Pease to Richard Ingersoll and William Haynes in 1644.

XVII. Elias Stileman.

XVII. Elias Stileman.

Granted in 1636; sold to Richard Hutchinson, June 1, 1648.

Granted in 1636; sold to Richard Hutchinson, June 1, 1648.

XVIII. Robert Goodell.

XVIII. Robert Goodell.

504 acres laid out to him, Feb. 13, 1652: comprising 40 acres granted to him "long since," and other parcels bought by him of the original grantees; viz., Joseph Grafton, John Sanders, Henry Herrick, William Bound, Robert Pease and his brother, Robert Cotta, William Walcott, Edmund Marshall, Thomas Antrum, Michael Shaflin, Thomas Venner, John Barber, Philemon Dickenson, and William Goose.

504 acres were granted to him on February 13, 1652: including 40 acres he was given "long ago," and other pieces purchased from the original grantees; namely Joseph Grafton, John Sanders, Henry Herrick, William Bound, Robert Pease and his brother, Robert Cotta, William Walcott, Edmund Marshall, Thomas Antrum, Michael Shaflin, Thomas Venner, John Barber, Philemon Dickenson, and William Goose.

XIX. Job Swinnerton.

XIX. Job Swinnerton.

300 acres laid out, Jan. 5, 1697, to Job Swinnerton, Jr.; having been owned by his father, by grant and purchase, as early as 1650.

300 acres were allocated on Jan. 5, 1697, to Job Swinnerton, Jr.; it had been owned by his father through a grant and purchase as early as 1650.

XX. Townsend Bishop.

XX. Townsend Bishop.

Granted Jan. 11, 1636; sold to Francis Nurse, April 29, 1678.

Granted Jan. 11, 1636; sold to Francis Nurse, April 29, 1678.

XXI. Rev. Samuel Skelton.

XXI. Rev. Samuel Skelton.

Granted by the General Court, July 3, 1632; sold to John Porter, March 8, 1649; owned by the heirs of John Porter in 1692.[i.xxv]

Granted by the General Court on July 3, 1632; sold to John Porter on March 8, 1649; owned by John Porter's heirs in 1692.[i.xxv]

XXII. John Winthrop, Jr.

XXII. John Winthrop, Jr.

Granted June 25, 1638; sold by his daughter to John Green, Aug. 9, 1683.

Granted June 25, 1638; sold by his daughter to John Green, Aug. 9, 1683.

XXIII. Rev. Edward Norris.

XXIII. Rev. Edward Norris.

Granted Jan. 21, 1640: sold to Elleanor Trusler, Aug. 7, 1654; to Joseph Pope, July 18, 1664.

Granted Jan. 21, 1640: sold to Elleanor Trusler, Aug. 7, 1654; to Joseph Pope, July 18, 1664.

XXIV. Robert Cole.

XXIV. Robert Cole.

Granted Dec. 21, 1635; sold to Emanuel Downing before July 16th, 1638; conveyed by him to John and Adam Winthrop, in trust for himself and wife during their lives, and then for his son, George Downing, July 23, 1644; leased to John Procter in 1666; occupied by him and his son Benjamin in 1692.

Granted Dec. 21, 1635; sold to Emanuel Downing before July 16, 1638; conveyed by him to John and Adam Winthrop, in trust for himself and his wife during their lives, and then for his son, George Downing, July 23, 1644; leased to John Procter in 1666; occupied by him and his son Benjamin in 1692.

XXV. Col. Thomas Reed.

XXV. Col. Thomas Reed.

Granted Feb. 16, 1636; sold to Daniel Epps, June 28, 1701, by Wait Winthrop, as attorney to Samuel Reed, only son and heir of Thomas Reed.

Granted Feb. 16, 1636; sold to Daniel Epps on June 28, 1701, by Wait Winthrop, acting as attorney for Samuel Reed, the only son and heir of Thomas Reed.

XXVI. John Humphrey.

XXVI. John Humphrey.

Granted by the General Court, Nov. 7, 1632, May 6, 1635, and March 12, 1638, 1,500 acres, part in Salem and part in Lynn; sold, on execution, to Robert Saltonstall, Dec. 6, 1642, and by him sold to Stephen Winthrop, June 7, 1645, whose daughters—Margaret Willie and Judith Hancock—owned it in 1692: that part within the bounds of Salem is given in the Map according to the report of a committee, July 11, 1695.

Granted by the General Court on November 7, 1632, May 6, 1635, and March 12, 1638, 1,500 acres, partly in Salem and partly in Lynn; sold, through execution, to Robert Saltonstall on December 6, 1642, and then sold by him to Stephen Winthrop on June 7, 1645, whose daughters—Margaret Willie and Judith Hancock—owned it in 1692: that part within the boundaries of Salem is detailed in the Map according to a committee's report on July 11, 1695.

Orchard Farm.

Orchard Farm.

Granted by the General Court to Gov. Endicott; owned by his grandsons, John and Samuel, in 1692.

Granted by the General Court to Gov. Endicott; owned by his grandsons, John and Samuel, in 1692.

The Governor's Plain.

The Governor's Plain.

Granted to Gov. Endicott, Jan. 27, 1637, Dec. 23, 1639, and Feb. 5, 1644; including land granted under the name of "small lots."

Granted to Gov. Endicott, Jan. 27, 1637, Dec. 23, 1639, and Feb. 5, 1644; including land granted under the name of "small lots."

Johnson's Plain.

Johnson's Plain.

Granted to Francis Johnson, Jan. 23, 1637.

Granted to Francis Johnson, January 23, 1637.

FARMS.

[The bounds of farms are indicated by dotted lines, except where they coincide with the bounds of grants. The following are those given on the Map.]

[The edges of the farms are shown by dotted lines, unless they match the edges of the grants. The following are those provided on the Map.]

1st, Between grants No. XI. and VII., and extending north of the Village bounds, and south as far as Andover Road,—about 500 acres; bought by Thomas and Nathaniel Putnam of Philip Cromwell, Walter Price and Thomas Cole, Jeffry Massey, John Reaves, Joseph and John Gardner, and Giles Corey; owned, in 1692, by Edward Putnam, Thomas Putnam, and John Putnam, Jr. This includes also 50 acres granted to Nathaniel Putnam, Nov. 19, 1649.

1st, Between grants No. XI and VII, extending north of the village boundaries and south as far as Andover Road—about 500 acres; purchased by Thomas and Nathaniel Putnam from Philip Cromwell, Walter Price, Thomas Cole, Jeffry Massey, John Reaves, Joseph and John Gardner, and Giles Corey; owned in 1692 by Edward Putnam, Thomas Putnam, and John Putnam Jr. This also includes 50 acres granted to Nathaniel Putnam on November 19, 1649.

2d, At the northerly end of Grant No. VII., and extending north of the Village bounds,—100 acres, known as the "Ruck Farm;" granted to Thomas Ruck, May 27, 1654, and sold to Philip Knight and Thomas Cave, July 24, 1672.

2d, At the northern end of Grant No. VII., extending north of the Village boundaries, there are 100 acres known as the "Ruck Farm." This land was granted to Thomas Ruck on May 27, 1654, and sold to Philip Knight and Thomas Cave on July 24, 1672.

3d, North of the "Ruck Farm,"—100 acres; sold by William Robinson to Richard Richards and William Hobbs, Jan. 1, 1660, and owned, in 1692, by William Hobbs and John Robinson.

3d, North of the "Ruck Farm,"—100 acres; sold by William Robinson to Richard Richards and William Hobbs on January 1, 1660, and owned in 1692 by William Hobbs and John Robinson.

4th, Next east, bounded northeast by Nichols Brook, and extending within the Village bounds,—200 acres; granted to Henry Bartholomew, and sold by him to William Nichols before 1652.

4th, Next east, bordered on the northeast by Nichols Brook, and located within the Village limits,—200 acres; granted to Henry Bartholomew, and sold by him to William Nichols before 1652.

5th, East of the "Ruck Farm," and extending across the Village bounds,—about 150 acres; granted to John Putnam and Richard Graves. Part of this was sold by John Putnam to Capt. Thomas Lothrop, June 2, 1669, and was owned by Ezekiel Cheever in 1692: the rest was owned by John Putnam.

5th, East of the "Ruck Farm," and extending across the Village boundaries—about 150 acres; granted to John Putnam and Richard Graves. Part of this was sold by John Putnam to Capt. Thomas Lothrop on June 2, 1669, and was owned by Ezekiel Cheever in 1692; the rest was owned by John Putnam.

6th, East of the above, and south of the Nichols Farm,—60 acres, owned by Henry Kenny; also 50 acres granted to Job Swinnerton, given by him to his son, Dr. John Swinnerton, and sold to John Martin and John Dale, March 20, 1693.

6th, East of the above, and south of the Nichols Farm,—60 acres, owned by Henry Kenny; also 50 acres granted to Job Swinnerton, given by him to his son, Dr. John Swinnerton, and sold to John Martin and John Dale, March 20, 1693.

7th, South of the above, and east of Grant No. VII.,—150 acres; granted to William Pester, July 16, 1638, and sold by Capt. William Trask to Robert Prince, Dec. 20, 1655.

7th, South of the above, and east of Grant No. VII.,—150 acres; granted to William Pester on July 16, 1638, and sold by Capt. William Trask to Robert Prince on December 20, 1655.

8th, East of Grant No. VI., and extending north to Smith's Hill and south to Grant No. IX.,—about 400 acres; granted to Allen Kenniston, John Porter, and Thomas Smith, and owned, in 1692, by Daniel Andrew and Peter Cloyse.[i.xxvii]

8th, East of Grant No. VI., and extending north to Smith's Hill and south to Grant No. IX.,—about 400 acres; granted to Allen Kenniston, John Porter, and Thomas Smith, and owned, in 1692, by Daniel Andrew and Peter Cloyse.[i.xxvii]

9th, East and southeast of Smith's Hill,—500 acres; granted to Emanuel Downing in 1638 and 1649, and sold by him to John Porter, April 15, 1650. John Porter gave this farm to his son Joseph, upon his marriage with Anna daughter of William Hathorne.

9th, East and southeast of Smith's Hill,—500 acres; granted to Emanuel Downing in 1638 and 1649, and sold by him to John Porter on April 15, 1650. John Porter gave this farm to his son Joseph when he married Anna, the daughter of William Hathorne.

10th, East of Frost-fish River, including the northerly end of Leach's Hill, and extending across Ipswich Road,—about 250 acres, known as the "Barney Farm;" originally granted to Richard Ingersoll, Jacob Barney, and Pascha Foote.

10th, East of Frost-fish River, including the northern end of Leach's Hill, and extending across Ipswich Road—about 250 acres, known as the "Barney Farm;" originally granted to Richard Ingersoll, Jacob Barney, and Pascha Foote.

11th, South of the "Barney Farm,"—about 200 acres; granted to Lawrence, Richard, and John Leach; owned, in 1692, by John Leach.

11th, South of the "Barney Farm,"—about 200 acres; granted to Lawrence, Richard, and John Leach; owned, in 1692, by John Leach.

12th, North of the "Barney Farm," and between grants No. XIII. and XIV.,—about 250 acres, known as "Gott's Corner;" granted to Charles Gott, Jeffry Massey, Thomas Watson, John Pickard, and Jacob Barney, and by them sold to John Porter. (Recently known as the "Burley Farm.")

12th, North of the "Barney Farm," and between grants No. XIII. and XIV.,—about 250 acres, known as "Gott's Corner;" granted to Charles Gott, Jeffry Massey, Thomas Watson, John Pickard, and Jacob Barney, and by them sold to John Porter. (Recently known as the "Burley Farm.")

13th, Eastward of the "Barney Farm,"—40 acres; originally granted to George Harris, and afterwards to Osmond Trask; owned, in 1692, by his son, John Trask.

13th, East of the "Barney Farm,"—40 acres; originally given to George Harris, then to Osmond Trask; owned, in 1692, by his son, John Trask.

14th, Next east, and extending across Ipswich Road,—40 acres; granted to Edward Bishop, Dec. 28, 1646; owned, in 1692, by his son, Edward Bishop, "the sawyer."

14th, Next east, and stretching across Ipswich Road,—40 acres; granted to Edward Bishop on December 28, 1646; owned, in 1692, by his son, Edward Bishop, "the sawyer."

15th, At the northwest end of Felton's Hill, and extending across the Village line,—about 60 acres; owned by Nathaniel Putnam.

15th, At the northwest end of Felton's Hill, and stretching across the village line—about 60 acres; owned by Nathaniel Putnam.

16th, Southeast of Grant No. XXIII.,—a farm of about 150 acres; owned by Giles Corey, including 50 acres bought by him of Robert Goodell, March 15, 1660, and 50 acres bought by him of Ezra and Nathaniel Clapp, of Dorchester, heirs of John Alderman, July 4, 1663.

16th, Southeast of Grant No. XXIII.,—a farm of about 150 acres; owned by Giles Corey, including 50 acres he bought from Robert Goodell on March 15, 1660, and 50 acres he purchased from Ezra and Nathaniel Clapp, of Dorchester, heirs of John Alderman, on July 4, 1663.

17th, Northeast of the above,—150 acres granted to Mrs. Anna Higginson in 1636; sold by Rev. John Higginson to John Pickering, March 23, 1652; and by him to John Woody and Thomas Flint, Oct. 18, 1654; owned in 1692 by Thomas and Joseph Flint.

17th, Northeast of the above—150 acres were granted to Mrs. Anna Higginson in 1636; sold by Rev. John Higginson to John Pickering on March 23, 1652; and by him to John Woody and Thomas Flint on October 18, 1654; owned in 1692 by Thomas and Joseph Flint.


GENERAL INDEX.


A.

Abbey, Thomas, 129.

Abbey, Samuel, ii. 200, 272.

Abbot, Joseph, 123.

Abbot, Nehemiah, ii. 128, 133, 208.

Aborn, Samuel, Jr., ii. 272.

Addington, Isaac, ii. 102, 474.

Afflicted children, ii. 112, 384, 465.

Age, reverence for, 217.

Agrippa, Henry Cornelius, 367.

Alford, William, 66.

Alden, John, ii. 208, 243-247, 255, 453.

Allen, James, 78-84; ii. 89, 309, 494, 550-553.

Allin, James, ii. 226.

America, the peopling of, 395.

Amsterdam, 460.

Andover, ii. 247.

Andrew, Daniel, 155, 214, 251, 270, 296, 319; ii. 59, 187, 272, 497, 550.

Andrews, Ann, ii. 170, 319.

Andrews, John, ii. 306.

Andrews, John, Jr., ii. 306.

Andrews, Joseph, ii. 306.

Andrews, William, ii. 306.

Andrews, Robert, 123.

Andros, Sir Edmund, ii. 99, 154.

Appleton, Samuel, 119; ii. 102, 250.

Apon, Peter, 342.

Arnold de Villa Nova, 342.

Arnold, Margaret, 356.


B.

Babbage, Christopher, ii. 184.

Bachelder, Mark, 123.

Bacheler, John, ii. 475.

Bacon, Francis, 383.

Bacon, Roger, 341.

Badger, John, 445.

Baker, Eben, 123.

Bailey, John, ii. 89, 310.

Balch, John, 129.

Balch, Joseph, 105.

Baptism: its subjects, 307.

Barbadoes, 287.

Barker, Abigail, ii. 349, 404.

Barnard, Thomas, ii. 477.

Barnes, Benjamin, ii. 499.

Barney, Jacob, 40, 140.

Barrett, Thomas, ii. 353.

Bartholomew, Henry, 206.

Bartholomew, William, 428.

Barton, Elizabeth, 343.

Bassett, William, ii. 207.

Batter, Edmund, 40, 46, 57.

Baxter, Richard, 352, 353, 355, 401, 459.

Bayley, James, 245-255, 278;
autograph, 280; ii. 514.

Bayley, Joseph, ii. 417.

Bayley, Thomas, 105.

Beadle, Samuel, 132; ii. 164, 181.

Beadle, Thomas, ii. 164, 170, 172.

Beale, William, ii. 141.

Beard, Thomas, 360.

Bears, 210.

Becket, John, ii. 267.

Beers, Richard, 104.

Bekker, Balthasar, 371.

Belcher, Jonathan, ii. 481.

Bellingham, Richard, 144.

Bentley, Richard, 372.

Bentley, William, ii. 143, 365, 377.

Best, John, ii. 329.

Best, John, Jr., ii. 329.

Bibber, Sarah, ii. 5, 205, 287.

Billerica, 9.

[i.xxx]Bishop, Bridget, 143, 191-197; ii. 114, 125-128, 253;
trial and execution, 256-267;
her house, 463.

Bishop, Edward, 142; ii. 272.

Bishop, Edward, 142, 191; ii. 253, 267, 466.

Bishop, Edward, 141, 143; ii. 128, 135, 383, 465, 478.

Bishop, Edward, 143.

Bishop, John, 8.

Bishop, Richard, 142.

Bishop, Sarah, ii. 128, 135.

Bishop, Thomas, 206.

Bishop, Townsend, 40, 66;
his house, 69-74, 96, 97;
autograph, 279; ii. 294, 467.

Black, Mary, ii. 128, 136.

Blackstone, Sir William, ii. 517.

Blazdell, Henry, 430.

Blazed trees, 43.

Bly, John, ii. 261, 266.

Bly, William, ii. 266.

Bloody Brook, 105.

Booth, Elizabeth, ii. 4, 465.

Bowden, Michael, ii. 467.

Bowditch, Nathaniel, 172.

Boyle, Robert, 359.

Boynton, Joseph, ii. 553.

Bradbury, Thomas, ii. 224, 450.

Bradbury, Mary, ii. 208, 224-238;
trial and condemnation, 324, 480.

Bradford, William, 122.

Bradstreet, Dudley, ii. 248, 347.

Bradstreet, John, 428.

Bradstreet, John, ii. 248, 347.

Bradstreet, Simon, 124, 139, 147;
autograph 279, 451, 454; ii. 99, 455, 456.

Braman, Milton P., ii. 516.

Brattle, William, ii. 450.

Braybrook, Samuel, ii. 30, 72, 202.

Bridges, Edmund, 186; ii. 94.

Bridges, Mary, ii. 349.

Bridges, Sarah, ii. 349.

Bridgham, Joseph, ii. 553.

Bridle-path, 43.

Britt, Mary, ii. 38.

Broom-making, 202.

Browne, Charles, 429.

Browne, Christopher, 438.

Browne, Henry, Jr., 55.

Browne, Sir Thomas, 357.

Browne, William, Jr., 226, 271.

Buckley, Sarah, ii. 187, 199, 349.

Buckley, Thomas, 105.

Buckley, William, ii. 199.

Burial of those executed, ii. 266, 293, 301, 312, 320.

Burnham, John, ii. 306.

Burnham, John, Jr., ii. 306.

Burroughs, Charles, ii. 478.

Burroughs, George, 255, 278;
autograph, 280;
arrest and examination, ii. 140-163;
trial and execution, 296-304, 319, 480, 482, 514.

Burt, Goody, 437.

Burton, John, 151.

Burton, Isaac, 152, 241.

Burton, Warren, 152.

Butler, Samuel, 352, 367.

Butler, William, ii. 306.

Buxton, Elizabeth, ii 272.

Buxton, John, 154, 262.

Byfield, Nathaniel, ii. 455.


C.

Calamy, Edmund, 283, 352.

Calef, Robert, ii. 32, 461, 490.

Candy, ii. 208, 215, 349.

Canoes, 61.

Cantlebury, William, 154.

Cantlebury, Ruth, ii. 18.

Capen, Joseph, ii. 326, 478.

Capital punishment, 377.

Cary, Elizabeth, ii. 208, 238, 453, 456.

Cary, Jonathan, ii. 238.

Carr, Ann, 253; ii. 465.

Carr, George, ii. 229.

Carr, James, ii. 232.

Carr, John, ii. 234.

Carr, Mary, 253.

Carr, Richard, ii. 230.

Carr, Sir Robert, 220.

Carr, William, ii. 234, 465.

Carrier, Martha, arrest and examination, ii. 208-215;
trial and execution, 296, 480.

Carrier, Sarah, ii. 209.

Carter, Bethiah, ii. 187.

Cartwright, George, 220.

Casco, 256.

Case, Humphrey, 154.

Castle Island, 102.

Cave, Thomas, 154.

Chapman, Simon, ii. 219.

Charter of Massachusetts, 15.

Checkley, Samuel, ii. 553.

Cheever, Ezekiel, 111.

Cheever, Ezekiel, Jr., 113, 117, 226, 299; ii. 15, 40, 550.

Cheever, Peter, 226.

Cheever, Samuel, 113; ii. 193, 478, 550.

[i.xxxi]Cheever, Thomas, 113.

Chickering, Henry, 74.

Chipman, John, 130.

Choate, John, ii. 306.

Choate, Thomas, ii. 306.

Church, Benjamin, 123.

Church-of-England Canon, 347.

Churchill, Sarah, ii. 4, 166, 169.

Clark, Peter, 171; ii. 513, 516.

Clark, Thomas, 425.

Clark, William, 40.

Cleaves, William, ii. 38, 336.

Clenton, Rachel, ii. 198.

Cloutman, William, ii. 267.

Cloyse, Peter, 269; ii. 9, 59, 94, 465, 485.

Cloyse, Sarah, ii. 60, 94, 101, 111, 326.

Cobbye, Goodman, 431.

Code, Roman, 374.

Cogswell, John, ii. 306.

Cogswell, John, Jr., ii. 306.

Cogswell, Jonathan, ii. 306.

Cogswell, William, ii. 306.

Cogswell, William, Jr., ii. 306.

Coldum, Clement, ii. 191.

Cole, Eunice, 437.

Colman, Benjamin, ii. 505.

Colson, Elizabeth, ii. 187.

Conant, Lot, 133.

Conant, Roger, 60, 63, 129.

Confessors, ii. 350, 397.

Constables, 21.

Cook, Elisha, ii. 497.

Cook, Elizabeth, ii. 272.

Cook, Henry, 57.

Cook, John, ii. 261.

Cook, Isaac, ii. 272.

Cook, Samuel, 230.

Copper mine, 45.

Corey, Giles, 181-191, 205; ii. 38, 44, 52, 114, 121, 128;
pressed to death, 334-343;
excommunicated, 343, 480, 483.

Corey, Martha, 190; ii. 38-42;
examination, 43-55, 111;
trial and execution, 324, 458, 507.

Corlet, Elijah, 111.

Corwin, George, 57, 98, 226.

Corwin, George, ii. 252, 470, 472.

Corwin, George, ii. 484.

Corwin, John, 55.

Corwin, Jonathan, 101; ii. 11, 13;
autograph, (29, 50, 69, 314,) 89, 101, 116, 157, 165, 250, 345;
letter to, 447, 485, 538.

Court House, ii. 253.

Court, Special, ii. 251, 254.

Court, Superior, of Judicature, ii. 349.

Cox, Mary, ii. 198.

Cox, Robert, 123.

Cradock, Matthew, 17.

Crane River Bridge, 194.

Cranmer, Archbishop, 343.

Creesy, John, 141.

Crosby, Henry, ii. 38, 45, 50, 124.

Cullender, Rose, 355.


D.

Daland, Benjamin, 230.

Dane, Francis, ii. 223, 330, 459, 478.

Dane, Deliverance, ii. 404.

Dane, John, ii. 475.

Dane, Nathaniel, ii. 460.

Danforth, Thomas, 461; ii. 101, 250, 349, 354, 455, 456.

Darby, Mrs., 260.

Darling, James, ii. 201.

Davenport, John, 385.

Davenport, Nathaniel, 121, 125-128.

Davenport, Richard, 100-103.

Davenport, True Cross, 101, 126.

Davis, Ephraim, 429.

Davis, James, 429.

De La Torre, 361.

Deane, Charles, 50.

Death-warrant, ii. 266.

Deland, Thorndike, ii. 267.

Demonology, 325, 327.

Dennison, Daniel, 147.

Derich, Mary, ii. 208.

Devil, 325, 338, 387.

Dexter, Henry M., 123.

Dodge, Granville M., 232.

Dodge, John, 129.

Dodge, Josiah, 105.

Dodge, William, 130.

Dodge, William, Jr., 129.

Dole, John, 444.

Dolliver, Ann, ii. 194.

Dolliver, William, ii. 194.

Douglas, Ann, ii. 179.

Dounton, William, ii. 274.

Downer, Robert, ii. 413.

Downing, Emanuel, 38-46;
autograph, 279.

Downing, Lucy, 39;
autograph, 279.

Downing, Sir George, 46.

Drake, Samuel G, ii. 26.

Dreams, ii. 411.

Druillettes, Gabriel, 37.

Dudley, Joseph, ii. 480.

Dudley, Thomas, 23.

[i.xxxii]Dugdale, Richard, 354.

Dummer, Jeremiah, ii. 553.

Dunny, Amey, 355.

Dunton, John, ii. 90, 471.

Dustin, Hannah, 9.

Dustin, Lydia, ii. 208.

Dustin, Sarah, ii. 208.

Dutch, Martha, ii. 179.


E.

Eames, Daniel, ii. 331.

Eames, Rebecca, ii. 324, 480.

Easty, Isaac, 241; ii. 56, 478.

Easty, John, 241.

Easty, Mary, ii. 60;
arrest, 128;
examination, 137;
re-arrest, 200-205;
trial and execution, 324-327, 480.

Education, 111, 213-216, 280, 284; ii. 221.

Eliot, Andrew, ii. 475.

Eliot, Daniel, ii. 191.

Eliot, Edmund, ii. 412.

Eliot, Elizabeth, 126.

Emerson, John, 444, 462.

Emory, George, 57.

Endicott, John, 16-20, 23, 32-38, 45, 50, 74-79, 95, 454.

Endicott, John, Jr., 74-78.

Endicott, Samuel, 32; ii. 231, 272, 307.

Endicott, Zerubabel, 32, 35, 58, 84-95.

Endicott, Zerubabel, ii. 230.

English, Mary, ii. 128, 136;
autograph, 313.

English, Philip, ii. 128, 140, 255;
autograph, 313, 470, 473, 478, 482.

Essex, Flower of, 104.

Eveleth, Joseph, ii. 306, 475.


F.

Fairfax, Edward, 347.

Fairfield, William, ii. 267.

Farmer, Hugh, 335, 390.

Farrar, Thomas, ii. 187.

Farrington, John, 123.

Faulkner, Abigail, ii. 330, 476, 480.

Fellows, John, ii. 306.

Felt, David, ii. 267.

Felton, Benjamin, 56.

Felton, John, 236; ii. 307.

Felton, Nathaniel, ii. 272, 307.

Felton, Nathaniel, Jr., ii. 307.

Filmer, Sir Robert, 373.

Fireplaces, 202.

First Church in Salem, 243, 246, 271; ii. 257, 290, 483.

Fisk, Thomas, ii. 284, 475.

Fisk, Thomas, Jr., ii. 475.

Fisk, William, ii. 475.

Fitch, Jabez, ii. 477.

Fletcher, Benjamin, ii. 242.

Flint, John, 141, 154.

Flint, Samuel, 229.

Flint, Thomas, 123, 188, 226, 270.

Flood, John, ii. 208, 331.

Fogg, Ralph, 57.

Forests, 7, 27.

Fosdick, Elizabeth, ii. 208.

Foster, Abraham, ii. 384.

Foster, Ann, ii. 351, 398, 480.

Foster, Isaac, ii. 306.

Foster, John, ii. 466.

Foster, Reginald, ii. 306.

Fowler, Joseph, ii. 206.

Fowler, Philip, ii. 206.

Fowler, Samuel P., ii. 206.

Fox, Rebecca, ii. 188.

Foxcroft, Francis, ii. 455.

Frayll, Samuel, ii. 307.

Fuller, Benjamin, ii. 177.

Fuller, Jacob, 227.

Fuller, John, ii. 280.

Fuller, Samuel, ii. 177.

Fuller, Thomas, 187, 227, 250, 288; ii. 25.

Fuller, Thomas, Jr., 288; ii. 173.


G.

Gallop, John, 122.

Game, pursuit of, 208.

Gammon, ——, ii. 354.

Gardiner, Sir Christopher, 68.

Gardner, Joseph, 45, 122, 123, 124.

Gardner, Samuel, 45.

Gardner, Thomas, 45, 117.

Gaskill, Edward, ii. 307.

Gaskill, Samuel, ii. 307.

Gaule, John, 363.

Gedney, Bartholomew, 271; ii. 89, 243, 244, 250, 251, 254, 496.

Gedney, John, 158, 258; ii. 254.

Gedney, John, Jr., ii. 254.

Gedney, Susannah, ii. 254, 264.

General Court responsible for the executions, ii. 268.

Gerbert (Sylvester II.), 339.

Gerrish, Joseph, ii. 478, 550.

Gidding, Samuel, ii. 306.

Gifford, Margaret, 437.

[i.xxxiii]Gingle, John, 144.

Glover, Goody, 454.

Gloyd, John, 186, 189.

Godfrey, John, 428-436.

Good, Dorcas, examination of, ii. 71, 111.

Good, Sarah, ii. 11;
examination of, 12-17;
trial and execution, 268, 269, 480.

Good, William, ii. 12, 481.

Goodell, Abner C., 141.

Goodell, Robert, 141.

Goodhew, William, ii. 306.

Goodwin, Mr., 454.

Governors of Massachusetts, time of election by charter, 17.

Governor's Plain, 24.

Gould, Nathan, 432.

Gould, Thomas, 188.

Grants, policy of, 22.

Gray, William, 130.

Graves, Thomas, ii. 455.

Green, Joseph, 9, 146, 170; ii. 199, 477, 506, 516.

Greenslit, John, ii. 298.

Greenslit, Thomas, ii. 298.

Griggs, William, ii. 4, 6.

Griggs, Goody, ii. 111.

Grover, Edmund, 31.


H.

Hakins, Nicholas, 123.

Hale, John, 195-197, 299, 452; ii. 43, 70, 257, 345, 475, 478, 550.

Hale, Sir Matthew, 355; ii. 269.

Halliwell, Henry, 364.

Handwriting, 214, 277-281; ii. 55.

Harding, Edward, 123.

Hardy, George, 443.

Harris, Benjamin, ii. 90.

Harris, George, 63.

Harsnett, Samuel, 369.

Hart, Thomas, ii. 352.

Hart, Elizabeth, ii. 187.

Harwood, John, ii. 275.

Hathorne, John, 40, 99, 271; ii. 11, 13, 20, 28;
autograph, (29, 50, 69, 314), 43, 60, 89, 101, 102, 116, 241, 250.

Hathorne, William, 46, 57, 99.

Haverhill, 9.

Hawkes, Mrs., ii. 216, 349.

Haynes, John, 139.

Haynes, Richard, 138, 140.

Haynes, Thomas, 139, 260, 431; ii. 132, 465.

Haynes, William, 40, 138.

Hazeldon, John, 429.

Herrick, George, ii. 49, 60, 71, 202, 252, 274, 471.

Herrick, Henry, 66, 153.

Herrick, Henry, ii. 475.

Herrick, Joseph, 129, 141, 269, 270; ii. 12, 28, 272.

Hibbert's Philosophy of Apparitions, ii. 518.

Hibbins, Ann, 420-427, 453.

Higginson, John, 271, 273; ii. 89, 193, 478, 550.

Highways, 43, 212.

Highways, surveyors of, 21.

Hill, Captain, ii. 244.

Hoar, Dorcas, ii. 140, 144, 384, 480.

Hobbs, Abigail, ii. 114, 128, 480, 481.

Hobbs, Deliverance, ii. 128, 161.

Hobbs, William, ii. 114, 128, 130.

Holgrave, John, 63.

Holyoke, Edward, 156.

Holyoke, Edward Augustus, 156; ii. 377.

Hopkins, Matthew, 351.

Horace, 366.

Horse Bridge, 234.

Houchins, Jeremiah, 74.

Houlton, Benjamin, ii. 275, 280, 281.

Houlton, James, ii. 307.

Houlton, Joseph, 86, 147, 243, 270; ii. 272, 496.

Houlton, Joseph, Jr., 123; ii. 272.

Houlton, Samuel, 148, 223.

Houlton, Sarah, ii. 281, 495, 506.

Houlton, town of, 151.

Houses, 184.

How, Elizabeth, ii. 208;
examination of, 216-223;
trial and execution, 268, 270, 480.

How, James, Sr., ii. 221.

How, John, 241.

Howard, John, ii. 198.

Howard, Nathaniel, 141.

Hubbard, Elizabeth, ii. 4, 191.

Hubbard, William, ii. 193, 477.

Hudson, William, 425.

Hungerford, Earl of, 343.

Hunniwell, Richard, ii. 298.

Hunt, Ephraim, ii. 553.

Huskings, 201.

Hutchinson, Benjamin, 172; ii. 151, 197, 201.

Hutchinson, Edward, 425.

Hutchinson, Elisha, ii. 150.

Hutchinson, Israel, 223, 228.

[i.xxxiv]Hutchinson, Joseph, 243, 250, 270, 285, 319; ii. 11, 28, 33, 272, 393, 545, 550.

Hutchinson, Lydia, ii. 272.

Hutchinson, Richard, 27, 40, 86, 137.

Hutchinson, Thomas, History of Massachusetts, 415.


I.

Indians, 7, 25, 62, 286.

Ingersoll, Hannah, 166, 261; ii. 192.

Ingersoll, John, 40, 172; ii. 171.

Ingersoll, Joseph, ii. 129.

Ingersoll, Nathaniel, 35, 86, 165-179, 225, 244, 249, 251, 259, 261;
autograph, 280, 288, 294, 301, 303;
ordination as deacon, 305; ii. 11, 33, 42, 60, 73, 100, 112, 114, 128, 132, 140, 499.

Ingersoll, Sarah, ii. 169.

Ingersoll, Richard, 36, 40, 138.

Ingersoll's Point, 138.

Inquest, jury of, ii. 178.

Ipswich road, 43.

Ireson, Benjamin, ii. 208.

Iron works, 147.

Izard, Ann, ii. 520.


J.

Jackson, John, ii. 198, 223.

Jackson, John, Jr., ii. 198, 223.

Jacobs, George, 198; ii. 4;
arrest and examination, 164-172, 274;
execution, 296, 312, 382, 480.

Jacobs, George, Jr., 198; ii. 187.

Jacobs, Margaret, ii. 164, 172, 315, 349, 353, 466.

Jacobs, Rebecca, ii. 187, 349.

Jacobs, Thomas, ii. 207.

James I., 368, 375, 410.

Jewell, John, 345.

Jewett, Nehemiah, ii. 553.

Joan of Arc, 343.

Jones, Hugh, 91.

Jones, Margaret, 415, 453.

John Indian, ii. 2, 95, 106, 241.

Johnson, Elizabeth, ii. 349.

Johnson, Elizabeth, Jr., ii. 349.

Johnson, Francis, 40.

Johnson, Isaac, 121, 122.

Johnson, Samuel, 357.

Johnson, Captain, 425.

Jovius Paulus, 367.

Judges, ii. 354.

Jury to examine the bodies of prisoners, ii. 274.

Jury of trials, ii. 284, 474.


K.

Kembal, John, ii. 412.

Kenny, Henry, 251; ii. 61.

Kepler, John, 345.

King, Daniel, ii. 181.

King, Joseph, 105.

King, Margaret, 196.

Kircher, Athanasius, 388.

Kitchen, John, 205.

Knight, Charles, 123.

Knight, John, 138.

Knight, Jonathan, ii. 177.

Knight, Philip, ii. 177.

Knight, Walter, 35.

Knowlton, Joseph, ii. 220.


L.

Lacy, Mary, ii. 400, 480.

Lacy, Mary, Jr., ii. 349, 401.

Lamb, Dr., 348.

Land, policy concerning, 16, 22;
given up to towns, 20;
clearing of, 26;
disposition of, to children, 158;
value of, 159.

Landlord, 218.

Laodicea, Council of, 375.

Law under which the trials took place, ii. 256, 268, 360.

Lawson, Deodat, 268-284;
autograph, 280; ii. 7, 70, 73;
his sermon, 76-92, 515, 525-537.

Lawson, Thomas, 283.

Law-suits, 232.

Layman, Paul, 361.

Leach, John, 141.

Leach, Lawrence, 141.

Leach, Robert, 129.

Leach, Sarah, ii. 272.

Lecture-day, 313, 450; ii. 76.

Lewis, Mercy, ii. 4, 287;
autograph, 313.

Lewis, Rev. Mr., 353.

Lexington, 229.

Lightning, 72.

Locke, John, 372.

Locker, George, ii. 12, 307.

Lothrop, Ellen, 111.

Lothrop, Thomas, 100, 103-117.

Louder, John, ii. 264.

[i.xxxv]Lovkine, Thomas, ii. 306.

Low, Thomas, ii. 306.

Luther, Martin, 344.


M.

Mackenzie, Sir George, 350.

Magistrates, ii. 354.

Manning, Jacob, ii. 142.

Maple-sugar, 203.

Marblehead, ii. 519.

March, John, ii. 234.

Marriage, early, 160; ii. 236.

Marsh, Samuel, ii. 307.

Marsh, Zachariah, ii. 307.

Marshall, Benjamin, ii. 306.

Marshall, Samuel, 122.

Marston, Mary, ii. 349.

Martin, Susannah, 427;
arrest and examination, ii. 145;
trial and execution, 268.

Mascon, Devil of, 359.

Mason, Thomas, ii. 267.

Maverick, Samuel, 220.

Maverick, Samuel, Jr., ii. 228.

Mather, Cotton, 112, 384, 391, 454; ii. 89, 211, 250, 257, 299, 341, 366, 487, 494, 503, 553.

Mather, Increase, ii. 89, 299, 308, 345, 404, 494, 553.

Mechanical occupations, 224.

Mede, Joseph, 394.

Medical profession, ii. 361.

Meeting, intermission of, on the Lord's Day, 207.

Meeting-house of Salem Village, 243, 244, 285.

Meeting-house of Salem Village, scenes at, 263; ii. 34, 60, 94, 510.

Meeting-house of First Church in Salem, scenes at, ii. 111, 257, 290.

Melancthon, Philip, 344.

Middlecot, Richard, ii. 553.

Milton, John, 387, 467.

Ministers, ii. 267, 362.

Minot, Stephen, 125.

Mirage, 386.

Mitchel, Jonathan, 434, 437.

Moody, Lady Deborah, 57, 183.

Moody, Joshua, ii. 309.

Moore, Captain, 187.

Moore, Caleb, 188.

Moore, Jane, 188.

More, Henry, 400.

Morrel, Robert, ii. 153, 191.

Morrell, Sarah, ii. 140, 144.

Morse, Anthony, 447.

Morse, Elizabeth, 449-453.

Morse, William, 438.

Morton, Charles ii. 89.

Mosely, Samuel, 121.

Moulton, John, ii. 38, 336, 478.

Moulton, Robert, 40.

Moulton, Robert, Jr., 40.

Moxon, George, 419.


N.

Narragansett expedition, 118-135.

Narragansett townships, 133.

Nauscopy, 386.

Navigation, early New-England, 440.

Neal, Joseph, ii. 164, 274.

Needham, Anthony, 155, 184, 226, 236; ii. 48.

Newbury, 9.

New-Haven Phantom-ship, 384.

New-York Negro Plot, ii. 437.

Newman, Antipas, 58.

New Salem, 149.

Newton, Thomas, ii. 254;
autograph, 314.

Nichols, Isaac, ii. 177.

Nichols, John, 241, ii. 133.

Nichols, Richard, 220.

Nichols, William, 154.

Norfolk, old county of, ii. 228.

Norris, Edward, 57, 237.

Norris, Edward, Jr., 205.

Norton, John, 423, 425; ii. 450.

Noyes, Nicholas, 117, 271, 299; ii. 43, 48, 55, 89, 170, 172, 184, 245, 253, 269, 290, 292, 365, 485, 550;
autograph, 314.

Numa Pompilius, 330.

Nurse, Francis, 79, 84, 91, 214, 287, 319, 320; ii. 9, 467.

Nurse, Rebecca, 80;
her arrest and examination, ii. 56-71, 111, 136;
trial, 268, 270-289;
excommunication, 290;
execution, 292, 480, 483.

Nurse, Samuel, 80; ii. 57, 288, 479, 485, 497, 506, 545-553.

Nurse, Sarah, 80; ii. 287, 467.


O.

Obinson, Mrs., ii. 456.

Ocular fascination, 412; ii. 520.

Oliver, Christian, ii. 267.

Oliver, Mary, 420.

Oliver, Peter, 425.

[i.xxxvi]Oliver, Thomas, 143, 191; ii. 253, 267.

Orchard Farm, 24, 87.

Orne, John, 57.

Osborne, Hannah, ii. 272.

Osborne, William, 152, 227; ii. 272.

Osburn, Alexander, ii. 18.

Osburn, John, ii. 19.

Osburn, Sarah, ii. 11, 17;
examination, 20;
death, 32.

Osgood, Mary, ii. 349, 404, 406.

Osgood, William, 432.


P.

Page, Abraham, 139.

Paine, Elizabeth, ii. 208.

Paine, Stephen, ii. 208.

Paine, Robert, 423; ii. 449.

Palfrey, Peter, 63, 129.

Palfrey, John G., 125.

Palisadoes, 31.

Parker, Alice, ii. 179-185;
trial and execution, 324.

Parker, John, ii. 179, 181.

Parker, John, 189; ii. 38, 48, 124.

Parker, Mary, trial and execution, ii. 324, 325, 480.

Parris, Elizabeth, ii. 3.

Parris, Samuel, 170, 172, 278;
autograph, 280, 286-320; ii. 1, 7, 9, 25, 31, 43, 49, 55, 92, 275, 290, 485-503, 515, 545-553.

Parris, Thomas, 286; ii. 499.

Parsonage of Salem Village, 243, 386; ii. 74, 466, 493.

Parsons, Hugh, 419.

Parsons, Mary, 418.

Partridge, John, ii. 150.

Payson, Edward, ii. 218, 494, 553.

Peabody, John, ii. 475.

Peach, Barnard, ii. 414.

Pease, Robert, ii. 208.

Peele, William, ii. 267.

Peine forte et dure, ii. 338, 484.

Peirce, Joseph, 123.

Pendleton, Bryan, 256.

Penn, William, 414.

Perkins, Isaac, ii. 306.

Perkins, Nathaniel, ii. 306.

Perkins, Thomas, ii. 475.

Perkins, William, 362.

Perley, Samuel, ii. 216.

Perley, Thomas, ii. 475.

Peters, Elizabeth, 50-53, 57.

Peters, Hugh, 47, 50, 51-59.

Pettingell, Richard, 40.

Phelps, Henry, 237.

Phelps, John, 187.

Phips, Sir William, 131, 451; ii. 99, 250;
autograph, 314, 345.

Phips, Spencer, ii. 482.

Phillips, Margaret, ii. 272.

Phillips, Samuel, 299; ii. 218, 494, 553.

Phillips, Tabitha, ii. 272.

Phillips, Walter, ii. 272.

Pickering, John, 46.

Pickering, Timothy, 46, 227.

Pierpont, James, 384.

Pike, John, ii. 226, 229.

Pike, Robert, ii. 226, 228, 250, 449, 538-544.

Pikeworth, 123; ii. 329.

Pitcher, Moll, ii. 521.

Pit-saw, 191.

Poindexter, ii. 185.

Poland, James, 188.

Pope, Gertrude, 236.

Pope, Joseph, 237, 238; ii. 65, 496.

Pope Innocent VIII., 342.

Porter, Benjamin, 141.

Porter, Elizabeth, ii. 272.

Porter, Israel, 141; ii. 59, 272, 550.

Porter, John, 40, 136.

Porter, John, Jr., 219.

Porter, John, ii. 207.

Porter, Joseph, 270, 296, 319.

Porter, Moses, 223, 230.

Post, Hannah, ii. 349.

Post, Mary, ii. 349, 480.

Powell, Caleb, 439.

Pratt, Francis, 428.

Prescott, Peter, 129, 316; ii. 153.

Preston, Thomas, 80, 91; ii. 11, 57, 496, 550.

Price, Walter, 226.

Prince, James, ii. 17.

Prince, Joseph, ii. 17.

Prince, Robert, ii. 17.

Prison, ii. 254.

Procter, Benjamin, ii. 207.

Procter, Elizabeth, arrest and examination, ii. 101-111;
trial and condemnation, 296, 312, 466.

Procter, John, 179, 184, 227; ii. 4, 106, 111;
trial and execution, 296, 304-312;
autograph, 313, 458, 480.

Procter, Joseph, ii. 306.

Procter, Sarah, ii. 207.

Procter, William, ii. 208, 311.

Procter's Corner, 49.

Pronunciation, ii. 233.

Pudeator, Ann, ii. 179, 185, 300;
trial and execution, 324, 329.

Pudeator, Jacob, ii. 185, 329.

[i.xxxvii]Puppets, 408, ii. 12, 266.

Putnam, Ann, 253; ii. 5, 61, 69, 74, 177, 229, 236, 276, 282, 465, 495, 506.

Putnam, Ann, Jr., 214; ii. 3, 8, 40, 190;
autograph, 313, 341, 511, 509-512.

Putnam, Archelaus, 164.

Putnam, Benjamin, 164; ii. 72, 272, 481.

Putnam, Daniel, 164.

Putnam, David, 227.

Putnam, Edward, 8, 161-164, 288, 302; ii. 11, 40, 44, 60, 71, 203, 288, 465.

Putnam, Eleazer, 132; ii. 152.

Putnam, Enoch, 229.

Putnam, Holyoke, 9.

Putnam, Israel, 160, 164, 227, 238.

Putnam, James, ii. 506.

Putnam, Jeremiah, 229.

Putnam, John, 34, 40, 155.

Putnam, John, 34, 155, 157, 241, 250, 251, 258, 267, 270, 284, 287, 316, 317; ii. 272, 359, 496, 550.

Putnam, John, Jr., 259; ii. 4, 172, 202, 506.

Putnam, John, 3d, ii. 506.

Putnam, Jonathan, 269; ii. 60, 71, 201, 272.

Putnam, Joseph, 160, 296, 319; ii. 9, 272, 457, 497.

Putnam, Lydia, ii. 272.

Putnam, Miriam, ii. 295.

Putnam, Nathaniel, 84, 86, 155, 157, 186, 198, 236, 250, 288, 296; ii. 33, 128, 178, 271.

Putnam, Orin, ii. 295.

Putnam, Perley, 230.

Putnam, Phinehas, ii. 295.

Putnam, Rebecca, 267; ii. 272, 359.

Putnam, Rufus, 227.

Putnam, Samuel, 223.

Putnam, Sarah, ii. 272.

Putnam, Susannah, 143.

Putnam, Thomas, 155, 226, 250, 251, 259;
autograph, 279.

Putnam, Thomas, 129, 225, 227, 236, 253;
autograph, 279, 281, 316; ii. 3, 4, 11, 28, 55, 140, 232, 341, 464, 465, 506.

Putnam, William Lowell, 232.


Q.

Queen Elizabeth, 345.

Quick, John, 283.


R.

Rabbits, 209.

Raising of a house, 201.

Rawson, Edward, 425, 450.

Raymond, John, 66.

Raymond, John, 129, 134; ii. 465.

Raymond, John W., 232.

Raymond, Richard, 141.

Raymond, Thomas, 129, 133, 141.

Raymond, William, 129, 132, 143.

Raymond, William, Jr., ii. 192.

Rea, Bethiah, 113, 116.

Rea, Daniel, 40, 113, 140.

Rea, Daniel, Jr., 288; ii. 272.

Rea, Hepzibah, ii. 272.

Rea, Joshua, 114, 140, 141, 287, 288; ii. 272, 545.

Rea, Sarah, ii. 272.

Read, Christopher, 123.

Read, Thomas, 49.

Records of Salem Village, 269, 272, 273-278.

Redemptioners, ii. 18.

Reed, Nicholas, 8.

Reed, Philip, 437.

Reed, Wilmot, arrest, ii. 208;
trial and execution, 324, 325.

Reinolds, Alexius, 91.

Remigius, 344.

Rice, Charles B., ii. 513.

Rice, Sarah, ii. 208.

Richards, John, ii. 251, 349.

Richardson, Mr., 442.

Richardson, Mary, 448.

Ring, Jarvis, ii. 414.

Rist, Nicholas, ii. 352.

Roads, 43.

Robinson, John, ii. 181, 184.

Rogers, John, ii. 477.

Rogers, Thomas, 443.

Rolfe, Benjamin, 9; ii. 478.

Roots, Susannah, ii. 207.

Ropes, Nathaniel, 237.

Rose, Richard, ii. 171.

Royal Neck, 58.

Ruck, Thomas, 57.

Rule, Margaret, ii. 489.

Russell, James, ii. 102.

Russell, William, 80.


S.

Salem Farms, 136.

Salem Village, 199, 216, 223, 224, 233, 234, 242, 248, 269-278, 298, [i.xxxviii]312, 321, 322; ii. 485, 513.

Saltonstall, Nathaniel, ii. 251, 455.

Satan, 325, 338.

Sargent, Peter, ii. 251.

Savage, James, 50, 384.

Saw-pit, 191.

Sawyers, 191.

Sayer, Samuel, ii. 475.

Scarlett, Benjamin, 32.

Science, physical, 380.

Scott, Margaret, trial and execution, ii. 324, 325.

Scott, Reginald, 368, 410.

Scott, Sir Walter, 335.

Scottow, Joshua, 424, 425; ii. 298.

Scriptures, King James's Translation of, 375.

Scruggs, Margery, 66.

Scruggs, Rachel, 65.

Scruggs, Thomas, 64, 130.

Sears, Ann, ii. 208.

Seating the meeting-house, 217; ii. 506.

Seely, Robert, 122.

Settlers, provision of land for, 16.

Sewall, Mitchel, ii. 481.

Sewall, Samuel, ii. 102, 111, 157, 251, 441, 497.

Sewall, Samuel, ii. 481.

Sewall, Stephen, 57; ii. 3, 230, 384, 487, 497.

Shakespeare, William, 379, 467.

Sharp, Samuel, 46, 57, 388.

Shattuck, Samuel, 193; ii. 180, 259.

Shaw, Israel, ii. 465.

Sheldon, Godfrey, 8.

Sheldon, Susannah, ii. 4, 322.

Shepard, John, ii. 465.

Shepard, Rebecca, ii. 275, 280.

Sherringham, Robert, 356.

Shippen, Mr., 261.

Ship Tavern, ii. 254.

Shirley, William, ii. 482.

Shovel-board, 196, 204.

Sibley, John, 141, 154.

Sibley, John L., 141.

Sibley, Mary, ii. 95, 97.

Sibley, Samuel, 259, 262; ii. 97, 465.

Sibley, William, 262; ii. 18.

Silsbee, Nathaniel, ii. 267.

Sinclair, George, 350.

Singletary, Jonathan, 433.

Skelton, Samuel, 57, 85.

Skerry, Henry, 259.

Sleighs, 203.

Small, Thomas, 154; ii. 19.

Smith, George, ii. 307.

Smith, Thomas, 105.

Soames, Abigail, ii. 208.

Soames, Joseph, 123.

Spaulding, Willard, 237.

Spencer, John, 432.

Spenser, Edmund, 346, 365.

Sprenger, James, 361.

Stacy, William, ii. 263.

Stearns, Isaac, ii. 263.

Stileman, Elias, 40, 86.

Stone, Samuel, ii. 307.

Story, Joseph, ii. 440.

Story, William, ii. 306.

Stoughton, William, 125; ii. 157, 250, 301, 349, 355.

Sunday patrol, 40.

Surey Demoniac, 354.

Sweden, King of, 344.

Swinnerton, Esther, ii. 272.

Swinnerton, Job, 140, 270.

Swinnerton, Job, ii. 272.

Swinnerton, Ruth, ii. 495.

Switchell, Abraham, 123.

Syllogism, 381.

Symmes, Thomas, ii. 478.

Symmes, Zachariah, ii. 478.

Symonds, John, ii. 377.

Symonds, Samuel, 433.

Symonds, William, 433.


T.

Tanner, Adam, 361.

Tarbell, John, 80, 91, 288; ii. 57, 287, 486, 497, 506, 545-553.

Taylor, Benjamin, 182.

Taylor, Zachary, 124.

Tears, trial by, 409.

Thacher, Mrs., ii. 345, 448, 453.

Thomasius, Christian, 373.

Thompson, William, ii. 306.

Tibullus, Elegy, 337.

Titcomb, Elizabeth, 444.

Tituba, ii. 2, 11;
examination and confession, 23, 32, 255.

Tookey, Job, arrest, ii. 208;
examination, 223, 349.

Toothacre, Mrs., ii. 208.

Topsfield, controversy with, 238.

Torrey, Samuel, ii. 494, 553.

Torrey, William, 450; ii. 553.

Towne, Jacob, 241; ii. 56.

Towne, John, 241; ii. 56.

Towne, Joseph, 241; ii. 56.

Towne, William, ii. 466.

Towns, 20.

Train-band, 100, 224.

Training-field, 176, 178, 225.

[i.xxxix]Trask, Edward, 105.

Trask, William, 34, 64, 129.

Travel, modes of, 43, 61, 203.

Troopers, company of, 226.

Trusler, Eleanor, 237.

Tucker, John, 444.

Tucker, Mary, 448.

Tufts, James, 105.

Turner, Sharon, 375.

Twiss, William, 395.

Tycho Brahe, 345.

Tyler, Hannah, ii. 349, 404.

Tyler, Mary, ii. 349, 404.

Tyng, Edward, 125.


U.

Upham, Phinehas, 118, 122.

Upton family, 155.

Urbain Grandier, 348.

Usher, Hezekiah, ii. 453.


V.

Varney, Thomas, ii. 306.

Verrin, Hilliard, 40.

Verrin, Joshua, 40.

Verrin, Nathaniel, 156, 287.

Verrin, Philip, 40, 63.

Verrin, Philip, Jr., 40.

Vigilance Committee, ii. 286.

Villalpando, Don Francisco Torreblanca, 361.

Virgil, 336, 413.


W.

Wade, Thomas, ii. 337.

Wadsworth, Benjamin, ii. 505.

Wadsworth, Benjamin, ii. 516.

Wagstaff, John, 370.

Wainwright, Simon, 9.

Walcot, Abraham, 188.

Walcot, Jonathan, 155, 225, 270; ii. 3, 100, 140, 464, 466.

Walcot, Jonathan, Jr., ii. 125, 550.

Walcot, Mary, ii. 3, 465.

Walker, Richard, ii. 207.

Walley, John, ii. 553.

Ward, George A., 98.

Wardwell, Mary, ii. 349.

Wardwell, Samuel, trial and execution, ii. 324, 384, 480.

Wardwell, Sarah, ii. 349.

Warren, Mary, ii. 4, 114, 128.

Warren, Sarah, ii. 17.

Wassalbe, Bridget, 191.

Waterman, Richard, 60.

Watson's Annals of Philadelphia, 414.

Watts, Isaac, ii. 516.

Watts, Jeremiah, 179.

Way, Aaron, 145; ii. 68, 177.

Way, William, ii. 493.

Weld, Daniel, 57.

Wells, town of, 256.

Wesley, John, ii. 518.

Westgate, John, ii. 181.

Weston, Francis, 60.

Wheelwright, John, ii. 228.

Whitaker, Abraham, 429.

White, James, ii. 306.

White, John, 389.

Whittier, John G., ii. 444.

Whittredge, Mary, ii. 187, 197, 199.

Wierus, John, 368, 376.

Wilds, John, ii. 128, 135.

Wilds, Sarah, arrest and examination, ii. 135;
trial and execution, 268, 480.

Wilds, William, 143; ii. 135.

Wilderness, opening of, 26.

Wilkins, Benjamin, 227; ii. 173, 550.

Wilkins, Bray, 143-146, 214, 309; ii. 173, 174.

Wilkins, Daniel, ii. 174, 179.

Wilkins, Hannah, 309.

Wilkins, Henry, ii. 174.

Wilkins, Samuel, ii. 173.

Wilkins, Thomas, 154, 227, 316; ii. 491-495, 506, 546-553.

Willard, John, arrest, ii. 172-179;
trial and execution, 321, 480.

Willard, Margaret, ii. 466.

Willard, Samuel, ii. 89, 289, 309, 494, 550-553.

Willard, Simon, ii. 210.

Williams, Abigail, ii. 3, 7, 46, 393.

Williams, Nathaniel, ii. 553.

Williams, Roger, 50, 56, 68.

Wilson, Robert, 105.

Wilson, Sarah, ii. 404.

Wills, 65, 75, 78, 92, 137, 162, 175, 425; ii. 304, 312, 511.

Wills Hill, 26, 144.

Winslow, Josiah, 119.

Winthrop, Fitz John, 54.

Winthrop, John, 17, 23, 39, 95, 454.

Winthrop, John, Jr., 39, 50, 58.

Winthrop, Wait, 54; ii. 251, 349, 497.

Wise, John, ii. 304, 306;
autograph, 314, 477, 494.

[i.xl]Witch, 402.

Witchcraft, 337;
law relating to, ii. 256, 516.

Witch-imp, 406.

Witch-mark, 405.

Witch-puppets, 408.

Witch Hill, ii. 376-380.

Witch of Endor, 333.

Wood, Anthony, 370.

Woodbridge, John, 438.

Wooden Bridge, 234.

Woodbury, Humphrey, 141.

Woodbury, John, 129.

Woodbury, Nicholas, 98.

Woodbury, Peter, 105.

Woodbury, William, 141.

Wooleston River, 23.

Wolf-pits, 212.

Wolves, 211.


Y.

Young, William, 51.

A.

Abbey, Thomas, 129.

Abbey, Samuel, ii. 200, 272.

Abbot, Joseph, 123.

Abbot, Nehemiah, ii. 128, 133, 208.

Aborn, Samuel, Jr., ii. 272.

Addington, Isaac, ii. 102, 474.

Afflicted children, ii. 112, 384, 465.

Age, reverence for, 217.

Agrippa, Henry Cornelius, 367.

Alford, William, 66.

Alden, John, ii. 208, 243-247, 255, 453.

Allen, James, 78-84; ii. 89, 309, 494, 550-553.

Allin, James, ii. 226.

America, the peopling of, 395.

Amsterdam, 460.

Andover, ii. 247.

Andrew, Daniel, 155, 214, 251, 270, 296, 319; ii. 59, 187, 272, 497, 550.

Andrews, Ann, ii. 170, 319.

Andrews, John, ii. 306.

Andrews, John, Jr., ii. 306.

Andrews, Joseph, ii. 306.

Andrews, William, ii. 306.

Andrews, Robert, 123.

Andros, Sir Edmund, ii. 99, 154.

Appleton, Samuel, 119; ii. 102, 250.

Apon, Peter, 342.

Arnold de Villa Nova, 342.

Arnold, Margaret, 356.


B.

Babbage, Christopher, ii. 184.

Bachelder, Mark, 123.

Bacheler, John, ii. 475.

Bacon, Francis, 383.

Bacon, Roger, 341.

Badger, John, 445.

Baker, Eben, 123.

Bailey, John, ii. 89, 310.

Balch, John, 129.

Balch, Joseph, 105.

Baptism: its subjects, 307.

Barbadoes, 287.

Barker, Abigail, ii. 349, 404.

Barnard, Thomas, ii. 477.

Barnes, Benjamin, ii. 499.

Barney, Jacob, 40, 140.

Barrett, Thomas, ii. 353.

Bartholomew, Henry, 206.

Bartholomew, William, 428.

Barton, Elizabeth, 343.

Bassett, William, ii. 207.

Batter, Edmund, 40, 46, 57.

Baxter, Richard, 352, 353, 355, 401, 459.

Bayley, James, 245-255, 278;
autograph, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__; ii. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__.

Bayley, Joseph, ii. 417.

Bayley, Thomas, 105.

Beadle, Samuel, 132; ii. 164, 181.

Beadle, Thomas, ii. 164, 170, 172.

Beale, William, ii. 141.

Beard, Thomas, 360.

Bears, 210.

Becket, John, ii. 267.

Beers, Richard, 104.

Bekker, Balthasar, 371.

Belcher, Jonathan, ii. 481.

Bellingham, Richard, 144.

Bentley, Richard, 372.

Bentley, William, ii. 143, 365, 377.

Best, John, ii. 329.

Best, John, Jr., ii. 329.

Bibber, Sarah, ii. 5, 205, 287.

Billerica, 9.

[i.xxx]Bishop, Bridget, 143, 191-197; ii. 114, 125-128, 253;
trial and execution, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__-267;
her place, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__.

Bishop, Edward, 142; ii. 272.

Bishop, Edward, 142, 191; ii. 253, 267, 466.

Bishop, Edward, 141, 143; ii. 128, 135, 383, 465, 478.

Bishop, Edward, 143.

Bishop, John, 8.

Bishop, Richard, 142.

Bishop, Sarah, ii. 128, 135.

Bishop, Thomas, 206.

Bishop, Townsend, 40, 66;
his house, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__-74, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_2__;
autograph, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__; ii. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_2__.

Black, Mary, ii. 128, 136.

Blackstone, Sir William, ii. 517.

Blazdell, Henry, 430.

Blazed trees, 43.

Bly, John, ii. 261, 266.

Bly, William, ii. 266.

Bloody Brook, 105.

Booth, Elizabeth, ii. 4, 465.

Bowden, Michael, ii. 467.

Bowditch, Nathaniel, 172.

Boyle, Robert, 359.

Boynton, Joseph, ii. 553.

Bradbury, Thomas, ii. 224, 450.

Bradbury, Mary, ii. 208, 224-238;
trial and conviction, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__.

Bradford, William, 122.

Bradstreet, Dudley, ii. 248, 347.

Bradstreet, John, 428.

Bradstreet, John, ii. 248, 347.

Bradstreet, Simon, 124, 139, 147;
autograph __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_2__; ii. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_3__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_4__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_5__.

Braman, Milton P., ii. 516.

Brattle, William, ii. 450.

Braybrook, Samuel, ii. 30, 72, 202.

Bridges, Edmund, 186; ii. 94.

Bridges, Mary, ii. 349.

Bridges, Sarah, ii. 349.

Bridgham, Joseph, ii. 553.

Bridle-path, 43.

Britt, Mary, ii. 38.

Broom-making, 202.

Browne, Charles, 429.

Browne, Christopher, 438.

Browne, Henry, Jr., 55.

Browne, Sir Thomas, 357.

Browne, William, Jr., 226, 271.

Buckley, Sarah, ii. 187, 199, 349.

Buckley, Thomas, 105.

Buckley, William, ii. 199.

Burial of those executed, ii. 266, 293, 301, 312, 320.

Burnham, John, ii. 306.

Burnham, John, Jr., ii. 306.

Burroughs, Charles, ii. 478.

Burroughs, George, 255, 278;
signature, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__;
arrest and examination, ii. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__-163;
trial and execution, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__-304, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_2__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_3__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_4__.

Burt, Goody, 437.

Burton, John, 151.

Burton, Isaac, 152, 241.

Burton, Warren, 152.

Butler, Samuel, 352, 367.

Butler, William, ii. 306.

Buxton, Elizabeth, ii 272.

Buxton, John, 154, 262.

Byfield, Nathaniel, ii. 455.


C.

Calamy, Edmund, 283, 352.

Calef, Robert, ii. 32, 461, 490.

Candy, ii. 208, 215, 349.

Canoes, 61.

Cantlebury, William, 154.

Cantlebury, Ruth, ii. 18.

Capen, Joseph, ii. 326, 478.

Capital punishment, 377.

Cary, Elizabeth, ii. 208, 238, 453, 456.

Cary, Jonathan, ii. 238.

Carr, Ann, 253; ii. 465.

Carr, George, ii. 229.

Carr, James, ii. 232.

Carr, John, ii. 234.

Carr, Mary, 253.

Carr, Richard, ii. 230.

Carr, Sir Robert, 220.

Carr, William, ii. 234, 465.

Carrier, Martha, arrest and examination, ii. 208-215;
trial and execution, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__.

Carrier, Sarah, ii. 209.

Carter, Bethiah, ii. 187.

Cartwright, George, 220.

Casco, 256.

Case, Humphrey, 154.

Castle Island, 102.

Cave, Thomas, 154.

Chapman, Simon, ii. 219.

Charter of Massachusetts, 15.

Checkley, Samuel, ii. 553.

Cheever, Ezekiel, 111.

Cheever, Ezekiel, Jr., 113, 117, 226, 299; ii. 15, 40, 550.

Cheever, Peter, 226.

Cheever, Samuel, 113; ii. 193, 478, 550.

[i.xxxi]Cheever, Thomas, 113.

Chickering, Henry, 74.

Chipman, John, 130.

Choate, John, ii. 306.

Choate, Thomas, ii. 306.

Church, Benjamin, 123.

Church-of-England Canon, 347.

Churchill, Sarah, ii. 4, 166, 169.

Clark, Peter, 171; ii. 513, 516.

Clark, Thomas, 425.

Clark, William, 40.

Cleaves, William, ii. 38, 336.

Clenton, Rachel, ii. 198.

Cloutman, William, ii. 267.

Cloyse, Peter, 269; ii. 9, 59, 94, 465, 485.

Cloyse, Sarah, ii. 60, 94, 101, 111, 326.

Cobbye, Goodman, 431.

Code, Roman, 374.

Cogswell, John, ii. 306.

Cogswell, John, Jr., ii. 306.

Cogswell, Jonathan, ii. 306.

Cogswell, William, ii. 306.

Cogswell, William, Jr., ii. 306.

Coldum, Clement, ii. 191.

Cole, Eunice, 437.

Colman, Benjamin, ii. 505.

Colson, Elizabeth, ii. 187.

Conant, Lot, 133.

Conant, Roger, 60, 63, 129.

Confessors, ii. 350, 397.

Constables, 21.

Cook, Elisha, ii. 497.

Cook, Elizabeth, ii. 272.

Cook, Henry, 57.

Cook, John, ii. 261.

Cook, Isaac, ii. 272.

Cook, Samuel, 230.

Copper mine, 45.

Corey, Giles, 181-191, 205; ii. 38, 44, 52, 114, 121, 128;
pressed to death, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__-343;
excommunicated, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_2__.

Corey, Martha, 190; ii. 38-42;
examination, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__-55, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__;
trial and execution, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_2__.

Corlet, Elijah, 111.

Corwin, George, 57, 98, 226.

Corwin, George, ii. 252, 470, 472.

Corwin, George, ii. 484.

Corwin, John, 55.

Corwin, Jonathan, 101; ii. 11, 13;
autograph, (__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_2__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_3__,) __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_4__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_5__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_6__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_7__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_8__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_9__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_10__;
letter to, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_2__.

Court House, ii. 253.

Court, Special, ii. 251, 254.

Court, Superior, of Judicature, ii. 349.

Cox, Mary, ii. 198.

Cox, Robert, 123.

Cradock, Matthew, 17.

Crane River Bridge, 194.

Cranmer, Archbishop, 343.

Creesy, John, 141.

Crosby, Henry, ii. 38, 45, 50, 124.

Cullender, Rose, 355.


D.

Daland, Benjamin, 230.

Dane, Francis, ii. 223, 330, 459, 478.

Dane, Deliverance, ii. 404.

Dane, John, ii. 475.

Dane, Nathaniel, ii. 460.

Danforth, Thomas, 461; ii. 101, 250, 349, 354, 455, 456.

Darby, Mrs., 260.

Darling, James, ii. 201.

Davenport, John, 385.

Davenport, Nathaniel, 121, 125-128.

Davenport, Richard, 100-103.

Davenport, True Cross, 101, 126.

Davis, Ephraim, 429.

Davis, James, 429.

De La Torre, 361.

Deane, Charles, 50.

Death-warrant, ii. 266.

Deland, Thorndike, ii. 267.

Demonology, 325, 327.

Dennison, Daniel, 147.

Derich, Mary, ii. 208.

Devil, 325, 338, 387.

Dexter, Henry M., 123.

Dodge, Granville M., 232.

Dodge, John, 129.

Dodge, Josiah, 105.

Dodge, William, 130.

Dodge, William, Jr., 129.

Dole, John, 444.

Dolliver, Ann, ii. 194.

Dolliver, William, ii. 194.

Douglas, Ann, ii. 179.

Dounton, William, ii. 274.

Downer, Robert, ii. 413.

Downing, Emanuel, 38-46;
signature, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__.

Downing, Lucy, 39;
autograph, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__.

Downing, Sir George, 46.

Drake, Samuel G, ii. 26.

Dreams, ii. 411.

Druillettes, Gabriel, 37.

Dudley, Joseph, ii. 480.

Dudley, Thomas, 23.

[i.xxxii]Dugdale, Richard, 354.

Dummer, Jeremiah, ii. 553.

Dunny, Amey, 355.

Dunton, John, ii. 90, 471.

Dustin, Hannah, 9.

Dustin, Lydia, ii. 208.

Dustin, Sarah, ii. 208.

Dutch, Martha, ii. 179.


E.

Eames, Daniel, ii. 331.

Eames, Rebecca, ii. 324, 480.

Easty, Isaac, 241; ii. 56, 478.

Easty, John, 241.

Easty, Mary, ii. 60;
arrest, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__;
exam, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__;
re-arrest, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__-205;
trial and execution, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__-327, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__.

Education, 111, 213-216, 280, 284; ii. 221.

Eliot, Andrew, ii. 475.

Eliot, Daniel, ii. 191.

Eliot, Edmund, ii. 412.

Eliot, Elizabeth, 126.

Emerson, John, 444, 462.

Emory, George, 57.

Endicott, John, 16-20, 23, 32-38, 45, 50, 74-79, 95, 454.

Endicott, John, Jr., 74-78.

Endicott, Samuel, 32; ii. 231, 272, 307.

Endicott, Zerubabel, 32, 35, 58, 84-95.

Endicott, Zerubabel, ii. 230.

English, Mary, ii. 128, 136;
autograph, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__.

English, Philip, ii. 128, 140, 255;
autograph, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_2__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_3__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_4__.

Essex, Flower of, 104.

Eveleth, Joseph, ii. 306, 475.


F.

Fairfax, Edward, 347.

Fairfield, William, ii. 267.

Farmer, Hugh, 335, 390.

Farrar, Thomas, ii. 187.

Farrington, John, 123.

Faulkner, Abigail, ii. 330, 476, 480.

Fellows, John, ii. 306.

Felt, David, ii. 267.

Felton, Benjamin, 56.

Felton, John, 236; ii. 307.

Felton, Nathaniel, ii. 272, 307.

Felton, Nathaniel, Jr., ii. 307.

Filmer, Sir Robert, 373.

Fireplaces, 202.

First Church in Salem, 243, 246, 271; ii. 257, 290, 483.

Fisk, Thomas, ii. 284, 475.

Fisk, Thomas, Jr., ii. 475.

Fisk, William, ii. 475.

Fitch, Jabez, ii. 477.

Fletcher, Benjamin, ii. 242.

Flint, John, 141, 154.

Flint, Samuel, 229.

Flint, Thomas, 123, 188, 226, 270.

Flood, John, ii. 208, 331.

Fogg, Ralph, 57.

Forests, 7, 27.

Fosdick, Elizabeth, ii. 208.

Foster, Abraham, ii. 384.

Foster, Ann, ii. 351, 398, 480.

Foster, Isaac, ii. 306.

Foster, John, ii. 466.

Foster, Reginald, ii. 306.

Fowler, Joseph, ii. 206.

Fowler, Philip, ii. 206.

Fowler, Samuel P., ii. 206.

Fox, Rebecca, ii. 188.

Foxcroft, Francis, ii. 455.

Frayll, Samuel, ii. 307.

Fuller, Benjamin, ii. 177.

Fuller, Jacob, 227.

Fuller, John, ii. 280.

Fuller, Samuel, ii. 177.

Fuller, Thomas, 187, 227, 250, 288; ii. 25.

Fuller, Thomas, Jr., 288; ii. 173.


G.

Gallop, John, 122.

Game, pursuit of, 208.

Gammon, ——, ii. 354.

Gardiner, Sir Christopher, 68.

Gardner, Joseph, 45, 122, 123, 124.

Gardner, Samuel, 45.

Gardner, Thomas, 45, 117.

Gaskill, Edward, ii. 307.

Gaskill, Samuel, ii. 307.

Gaule, John, 363.

Gedney, Bartholomew, 271; ii. 89, 243, 244, 250, 251, 254, 496.

Gedney, John, 158, 258; ii. 254.

Gedney, John, Jr., ii. 254.

Gedney, Susannah, ii. 254, 264.

General Court responsible for the executions, ii. 268.

Gerbert (Sylvester II.), 339.

Gerrish, Joseph, ii. 478, 550.

Gidding, Samuel, ii. 306.

Gifford, Margaret, 437.

[i.xxxiii]Gingle, John, 144.

Glover, Goody, 454.

Gloyd, John, 186, 189.

Godfrey, John, 428-436.

Good, Dorcas, examination of, ii. 71, 111.

Good, Sarah, ii. 11;
examination of, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__-17;
trial and execution, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_2__.

Good, William, ii. 12, 481.

Goodell, Abner C., 141.

Goodell, Robert, 141.

Goodhew, William, ii. 306.

Goodwin, Mr., 454.

Governors of Massachusetts, time of election by charter, 17.

Governor's Plain, 24.

Gould, Nathan, 432.

Gould, Thomas, 188.

Grants, policy of, 22.

Gray, William, 130.

Graves, Thomas, ii. 455.

Green, Joseph, 9, 146, 170; ii. 199, 477, 506, 516.

Greenslit, John, ii. 298.

Greenslit, Thomas, ii. 298.

Griggs, William, ii. 4, 6.

Griggs, Goody, ii. 111.

Grover, Edmund, 31.


H.

Hakins, Nicholas, 123.

Hale, John, 195-197, 299, 452; ii. 43, 70, 257, 345, 475, 478, 550.

Hale, Sir Matthew, 355; ii. 269.

Halliwell, Henry, 364.

Handwriting, 214, 277-281; ii. 55.

Harding, Edward, 123.

Hardy, George, 443.

Harris, Benjamin, ii. 90.

Harris, George, 63.

Harsnett, Samuel, 369.

Hart, Thomas, ii. 352.

Hart, Elizabeth, ii. 187.

Harwood, John, ii. 275.

Hathorne, John, 40, 99, 271; ii. 11, 13, 20, 28;
autograph, (__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_2__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_3__), __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_4__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_5__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_6__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_7__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_8__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_9__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_10__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_11__.

Hathorne, William, 46, 57, 99.

Haverhill, 9.

Hawkes, Mrs., ii. 216, 349.

Haynes, John, 139.

Haynes, Richard, 138, 140.

Haynes, Thomas, 139, 260, 431; ii. 132, 465.

Haynes, William, 40, 138.

Hazeldon, John, 429.

Herrick, George, ii. 49, 60, 71, 202, 252, 274, 471.

Herrick, Henry, 66, 153.

Herrick, Henry, ii. 475.

Herrick, Joseph, 129, 141, 269, 270; ii. 12, 28, 272.

Hibbert's Philosophy of Apparitions, ii. 518.

Hibbins, Ann, 420-427, 453.

Higginson, John, 271, 273; ii. 89, 193, 478, 550.

Highways, 43, 212.

Highways, surveyors of, 21.

Hill, Captain, ii. 244.

Hoar, Dorcas, ii. 140, 144, 384, 480.

Hobbs, Abigail, ii. 114, 128, 480, 481.

Hobbs, Deliverance, ii. 128, 161.

Hobbs, William, ii. 114, 128, 130.

Holgrave, John, 63.

Holyoke, Edward, 156.

Holyoke, Edward Augustus, 156; ii. 377.

Hopkins, Matthew, 351.

Horace, 366.

Horse Bridge, 234.

Houchins, Jeremiah, 74.

Houlton, Benjamin, ii. 275, 280, 281.

Houlton, James, ii. 307.

Houlton, Joseph, 86, 147, 243, 270; ii. 272, 496.

Houlton, Joseph, Jr., 123; ii. 272.

Houlton, Samuel, 148, 223.

Houlton, Sarah, ii. 281, 495, 506.

Houlton, town of, 151.

Houses, 184.

How, Elizabeth, ii. 208;
examination of, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__-223;
trial and execution, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_2__.

How, James, Sr., ii. 221.

How, John, 241.

Howard, John, ii. 198.

Howard, Nathaniel, 141.

Hubbard, Elizabeth, ii. 4, 191.

Hubbard, William, ii. 193, 477.

Hudson, William, 425.

Hungerford, Earl of, 343.

Hunniwell, Richard, ii. 298.

Hunt, Ephraim, ii. 553.

Huskings, 201.

Hutchinson, Benjamin, 172; ii. 151, 197, 201.

Hutchinson, Edward, 425.

Hutchinson, Elisha, ii. 150.

Hutchinson, Israel, 223, 228.

[i.xxxiv]Hutchinson, Joseph, 243, 250, 270, 285, 319; ii. 11, 28, 33, 272, 393, 545, 550.

Hutchinson, Lydia, ii. 272.

Hutchinson, Richard, 27, 40, 86, 137.

Hutchinson, Thomas, History of Massachusetts, 415.


I.

Indians, 7, 25, 62, 286.

Ingersoll, Hannah, 166, 261; ii. 192.

Ingersoll, John, 40, 172; ii. 171.

Ingersoll, Joseph, ii. 129.

Ingersoll, Nathaniel, 35, 86, 165-179, 225, 244, 249, 251, 259, 261;
autograph, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_2__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_3__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_4__;
ordination as deacon, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__; ii. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_2__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_3__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_4__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_5__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_6__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_7__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_8__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_9__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_10__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_11__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_12__.

Ingersoll, Sarah, ii. 169.

Ingersoll, Richard, 36, 40, 138.

Ingersoll's Point, 138.

Inquest, jury of, ii. 178.

Ipswich road, 43.

Ireson, Benjamin, ii. 208.

Iron works, 147.

Izard, Ann, ii. 520.


J.

Jackson, John, ii. 198, 223.

Jackson, John, Jr., ii. 198, 223.

Jacobs, George, 198; ii. 4;
arrest and investigation, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__-172, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__;
execution, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_2__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_3__.

Jacobs, George, Jr., 198; ii. 187.

Jacobs, Margaret, ii. 164, 172, 315, 349, 353, 466.

Jacobs, Rebecca, ii. 187, 349.

Jacobs, Thomas, ii. 207.

James I., 368, 375, 410.

Jewell, John, 345.

Jewett, Nehemiah, ii. 553.

Joan of Arc, 343.

Jones, Hugh, 91.

Jones, Margaret, 415, 453.

John Indian, ii. 2, 95, 106, 241.

Johnson, Elizabeth, ii. 349.

Johnson, Elizabeth, Jr., ii. 349.

Johnson, Francis, 40.

Johnson, Isaac, 121, 122.

Johnson, Samuel, 357.

Johnson, Captain, 425.

Jovius Paulus, 367.

Judges, ii. 354.

Jury to examine the bodies of prisoners, ii. 274.

Jury of trials, ii. 284, 474.


K.

Kembal, John, ii. 412.

Kenny, Henry, 251; ii. 61.

Kepler, John, 345.

King, Daniel, ii. 181.

King, Joseph, 105.

King, Margaret, 196.

Kircher, Athanasius, 388.

Kitchen, John, 205.

Knight, Charles, 123.

Knight, John, 138.

Knight, Jonathan, ii. 177.

Knight, Philip, ii. 177.

Knight, Walter, 35.

Knowlton, Joseph, ii. 220.


L.

Lacy, Mary, ii. 400, 480.

Lacy, Mary, Jr., ii. 349, 401.

Lamb, Dr., 348.

Land, policy concerning, 16, 22;
given up to towns, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__;
clearing of, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__;
disposition to children, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__;
value of, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__.

Landlord, 218.

Laodicea, Council of, 375.

Law under which the trials took place, ii. 256, 268, 360.

Lawson, Deodat, 268-284;
autograph, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__; ii. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_2__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_3__;
his sermon, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__-92, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_2__-537.

Lawson, Thomas, 283.

Law-suits, 232.

Layman, Paul, 361.

Leach, John, 141.

Leach, Lawrence, 141.

Leach, Robert, 129.

Leach, Sarah, ii. 272.

Lecture-day, 313, 450; ii. 76.

Lewis, Mercy, ii. 4, 287;
signature, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__.

Lewis, Rev. Mr., 353.

Lexington, 229.

Lightning, 72.

Locke, John, 372.

Locker, George, ii. 12, 307.

Lothrop, Ellen, 111.

Lothrop, Thomas, 100, 103-117.

Louder, John, ii. 264.

[i.xl]Lovkine, Thomas, ii. 306.

Low, Thomas, ii. 306.

Luther, Martin, 344.


M.

Mackenzie, Sir George, 350.

Magistrates, ii. 354.

Manning, Jacob, ii. 142.

Maple-sugar, 203.

Marblehead, ii. 519.

March, John, ii. 234.


INTRODUCTION.


 IT is one of the distinguishing characteristics of the human being, that he loves to contemplate the scenes of the past, and desires to have his own history borne down to the future. This, like all the other propensities of our nature, is accompanied by faculties to secure its gratification. The gift of speech, by which the parent can convey information to the child—the old transmit intelligence to the young—is an indication that it is the design of the Author of our being that we should receive from those passing away the narrative of their experience, and communicate the results of our own to the generations that succeed us. All nations have, to a greater or less degree, been faithful to their trust in using the gift to fulfil the design of the Giver. It is impossible to name a people who do not possess cherished traditions that have descended from their early ancestors.

IThe love for reflecting on the past is one of the defining traits of being human, and we all want our own stories to be remembered in the future. Like all our natural tendencies, this desire comes with abilities that help fulfill it. The ability to speak allows parents to share knowledge with their children and for the older generation to pass on wisdom to the younger. This suggests it's part of our creator's plan for us to learn from those who have come before us and to share our own experiences with future generations. Most cultures have, to varying degrees, honored this responsibility by using their ability to communicate in order to realize the purpose of their creator. It’s hard to name a culture that doesn't have treasured traditions that have been passed down from their early ancestors.

Although it is generally considered that the invention of a system of arbitrary and external signs to communicate thought is one of the greatest and most[i.2] arduous achievements of human ingenuity, yet so universal is the disposition to make future generations acquainted with our condition and history,—a disposition the efficient cause of which can only be found in a sense of the value of such knowledge,—that you can scarcely find a people on the face of the globe, who have not contrived, by some means or other, from the rude monument of shapeless rock to the most perfect alphabetical language, to communicate with posterity; thus declaring, as with the voice of Nature herself, that it is desirable and proper that all men should know as much as possible of the character, actions, and fortunes of their predecessors on the stage of life.

Although it’s widely believed that creating a system of arbitrary symbols to express thoughts is one of the greatest and most[i.2] challenging achievements of human creativity, the urge to inform future generations about our experiences and history is so universal—driven by an understanding of the value of such knowledge—that it’s hard to find a culture anywhere on Earth that hasn’t found some way, from crude monuments of unshaped stone to sophisticated alphabetical languages, to communicate with those who come after us. This expresses, as if echoing the voice of Nature itself, the idea that it’s important and right for everyone to know as much as they can about the character, actions, and experiences of those who lived before them on this stage of life.

It is not difficult to discern the end for which this disposition to preserve for the future and contemplate the past was imparted to us. If all that we knew were what is taught by our individual experience, our minds would have but little, comparatively, to exercise and expand them, and our characters would be the result of the limited influences embraced within the narrow sphere of our particular and immediate relations and circumstances. But, as our notice is extended in the observation of those who have lived before us, our materials for reflection and sources of instruction are multiplied. The virtues we admire in our ancestors not only adorn and dignify their names, but win us to their imitation. Their prosperity and happiness spread abroad a diffusive light that reaches us, and brightens our condition. The wisdom that[i.3] guided their footsteps becomes, at the same time, a lamp to our path. The observation of the errors of their course, and of the consequent disappointments and sufferings that befell them, enables us to pass in safety through rocks and ledges on which they were shipwrecked; and, while we grieve to see them eating the bitter fruits of their own ignorance and folly as well as vices and crimes, we can seize the benefit of their experience without paying the price at which they purchased it.

It's not hard to see the purpose behind our tendency to preserve the future and reflect on the past. If all we knew came from our personal experiences, our minds would have very little to grow and develop, and our characters would be shaped by the limited influences in our immediate surroundings. However, as we learn about those who lived before us, we gain more material for reflection and sources of knowledge. The virtues we admire in our ancestors not only honor their names but also inspire us to emulate them. Their success and happiness spread a light that reaches us and improves our own situation. The wisdom that[i.3] guided them becomes a guiding light for us as well. By observing their mistakes and the disappointments and hardships they faced, we can navigate safely through the dangers that caused their downfalls; and while we feel sorrow for them as they experience the harsh consequences of their own ignorance, folly, vices, and crimes, we can benefit from their experiences without paying the cost they endured.

In the desire which every man feels to learn the history, and be instructed by the example, of his predecessors, and in the accompanying disposition, with the means of carrying it into effect, to transmit a knowledge of himself and his own times to his successors, we discover the wise and admirable arrangement of a providence which removes the worn-out individual to a better country, but leaves the acquisitions of his mind and the benefit of his experience as an accumulating and common fund for the use of his posterity; which has secured the continued renovation of the race, without the loss of the wisdom of each generation.

In the desire that everyone has to learn the history and gain insight from the examples of those who came before them, along with the willingness and ability to share their knowledge and experiences with future generations, we see the intelligent and admirable plan of a higher power that takes away the exhausted individual to a better place, while preserving the knowledge they gained and the benefits of their experiences as a growing resource for their descendants. This ensures the ongoing renewal of humanity without losing the wisdom of each generation.

These considerations suggest the true definition of history. It is the instrument by which the results of the great experiment of human action on this theatre of being are collected and transmitted from age to age. Speaking through the records of history, the generations that have gone warn and guide the generations that follow. History is the Past, teaching Philosophy to the Present, for the Future.[i.4]

These thoughts point to the real definition of history. It’s the tool that gathers and passes down the outcomes of the grand experiment of human actions on this stage of existence from one generation to the next. Through the records of history, those who came before us advise and guide those who come after. History is the Past, teaching Philosophy to the Present, for the Future.[i.4]

Since this is the true and proper design of history, it assumes an exalted station among the branches of human knowledge. Every community that aspires to become intelligent and virtuous should cherish it. Institutions for the promotion and diffusion of useful information should have special reference to it. And all people should be induced to look back to the days of their forefathers, to be warned by their errors, instructed by their wisdom, and stimulated in the career of improvement by the example of their virtues.

Since this is the genuine and appropriate purpose of history, it holds a noble place among the fields of human knowledge. Every community that aims to be knowledgeable and virtuous should value it. Institutions that promote and spread useful information should focus on it specifically. Everyone should be encouraged to reflect on the times of their ancestors, to learn from their mistakes, benefit from their wisdom, and be motivated in their pursuit of improvement by the example of their virtues.

The historian would find a great amount and variety of materials in the annals of this old town,—greater, perhaps, than in any other of its grade in the country. But there is one chapter in our history of pre-eminent interest and importance. The witchcraft delusion of 1692 has attracted universal attention since the date of its occurrence, and will, in all coming ages, render the name of Salem notable throughout the world. Wherever the place we live in is mentioned, this memorable transaction will be found associated with it; and those who know nothing else of our history or our character will be sure to know, and tauntingly to inform us that they know, that we hanged the witches.

The historian would discover a vast array of materials in the records of this old town—perhaps more than in any other town of its size in the country. However, there is one chapter in our history that stands out for its significance and importance. The witchcraft hysteria of 1692 has drawn widespread attention since it happened, and it will make the name of Salem well-known around the world for generations to come. Whenever our town is mentioned, this unforgettable event will be linked to it, and those who know nothing else about our history or our character will definitely know—and will cheekily remind us—that we executed the witches.

It is surely incumbent upon us to possess ourselves of correct and just views of a transaction thus indissolubly connected with the reputation of our home, with the memory of our fathers, and, of course, with the most precious part of the inheritance of our chil[i.5]dren. I am apprehensive that the community is very superficially acquainted with this transaction. All have heard of the Salem witchcraft; hardly any are aware of the real character of that event. Its mention creates a smile of astonishment, and perhaps a sneer of contempt, or, it may be, a thrill of horror for the innocent who suffered; but there is reason to fear, that it fails to suggest those reflections, and impart that salutary instruction, without which the design of Providence in permitting it to take place cannot be accomplished. There are, indeed, few passages in the history of any people to be compared with it in all that constitutes the pitiable and tragical, the mysterious and awful. The student of human nature will contemplate in its scenes one of the most remarkable developments which that nature ever assumed; while the moralist, the statesman, and the Christian philosopher will severally find that it opens widely before them a field fruitful in instruction.

We definitely need to have clear and accurate views of an event that is so closely tied to the reputation of our community, the legacy of our ancestors, and, of course, the most valuable part of what we will pass on to our children. I’m worried that people don’t really understand this event. Everyone knows about the Salem witch trials; very few know what really happened. Just mentioning it can provoke shock and maybe even contempt, or perhaps it brings a chill for the innocent who were affected. However, I fear this doesn't lead to the deeper thoughts or lessons that we need to understand the purpose behind why it happened. There are very few moments in any society’s history that compare with it in terms of its tragic, mysterious, and horrifying elements. Anyone studying human nature will find in its events one of the most striking examples of how people can behave, while moralists, politicians, and Christian thinkers will discover a rich source of lessons to be learned.

Our ancestors have been visited with unmeasured reproach for their conduct on the occasion. Sad, indeed, was the delusion that came over them, and shocking the extent to which their bewildered imaginations and excited passions hurried and drove them on. Still, however, many considerations deserve to be well weighed before sentence is passed upon them. And while I hope to give evidence of a readiness to have every thing appear in its own just light, and to expose to view the very darkest features of the transaction, I am confident of being able to bring forward[i.6] such facts and reflections as will satisfy you that no reproach ought to be attached to them, in consequence of this affair, which does not belong, at least equally, to all other nations, and to the greatest and best men of their times and of previous ages; and, in short, that the final predominating sentiment their conduct should awaken is not so much that of anger and indignation as of pity and compassion.

Our ancestors faced harsh criticism for their actions during that time. It’s truly sad how misled they were and shocking how deeply their confused minds and intense emotions pushed them forward. However, there are many factors that should be carefully considered before judging them. While I aim to ensure everything is seen in its true light and reveal the darkest aspects of the situation, I’m confident I can present[i.6] facts and insights that will show you that no blame should be placed on them because of this incident that doesn’t also apply to all other nations, as well as the greatest and noblest individuals of their times and those before them; and ultimately, the predominant reaction to their actions should be more one of pity and compassion than of anger and outrage.

Let us endeavor to carry ourselves back to the state of the colony of Massachusetts one hundred and seventy years ago. The persecutions our ancestors had undergone in their own country, and the privations, altogether inconceivable by us, they suffered during the early years of their residence here, acting upon their minds and characters, in co-operation with the influences of the political and ecclesiastical occurrences that marked the seventeenth century, had imparted a gloomy, solemn, and romantic turn to their dispositions and associations, which was transmitted without diminution to their children, strengthened and aggravated by their peculiar circumstances. It was the triumphant age of superstition. The imagination had been expanded by credulity, until it had reached a wild and monstrous growth. The Puritans were always prone to subject themselves to its influence; and New England, at the time to which we are referring, was a most fit and congenial theatre upon which to display its power. Cultivation had made but a slight encroachment on the wilderness. Wide, dark, unexplored forests covered the[i.7] hills, hung over the lonely roads, and frowned upon the scattered settlements. Persons whose lives have been passed where the surface has long been opened, and the land generally cleared, little know the power of a primitive wilderness upon the mind. There is nothing more impressive than its sombre shadows and gloomy recesses. The solitary wanderer is ever and anon startled by the strange, mysterious sounds that issue from its hidden depths. The distant fall of an ancient and decayed trunk, or the tread of animals as they prowl over the mouldering branches with which the ground is strown; the fluttering of unseen birds brushing through the foliage, or the moaning of the wind sweeping over the topmost boughs,—these all tend to excite the imagination and solemnize the mind. But the stillness of a forest is more startling and awe-inspiring than its sounds. Its silence is so deep as itself to become audible to the inner soul. It is not surprising that wooded countries have been the fruitful fountains and nurseries of superstition.

Let's try to imagine what life was like in the Massachusetts colony one hundred and seventy years ago. Our ancestors faced severe persecution in their homeland and endured unimaginable hardships during the early years of their settlement here. These experiences shaped their minds and characters, along with the political and religious events of the seventeenth century, instilling a gloomy, serious, and somewhat romantic outlook that was passed down to their children, intensified by their unique circumstances. It was a time when superstition reigned supreme. People’s imaginations had been stretched by their susceptibility to belief, leading to wild and bizarre ideas. The Puritans were particularly vulnerable to this influence, and New England, at that time, was the perfect setting for it to take hold. The area had only seen minimal cultivation encroaching on the wilderness. Vast, dark, unexplored forests covered the[i.7] hills, loomed over lonely roads, and cast a shadow over scattered settlements. Those who have spent their lives where the land has long been cleared and developed often overlook the impact of a primitive wilderness on the mind. There’s nothing more striking than its dark shadows and gloomy corners. A lone traveler can be suddenly startled by strange, mysterious sounds coming from its hidden depths. The distant crash of an old, decayed tree, or the steps of animals moving over the rotting branches littering the ground; the flapping of unseen birds flitting through the leaves, or the wind's mournful whisper over the treetops—all of these things awaken the imagination and deepen the seriousness of thought. Yet, the stillness of a forest is even more jarring and awe-inspiring than its sounds. Its silence is so profound that it feels like it resonates within the inner soul. It’s no wonder that forested regions have served as rich fertile grounds for superstition.

"In a place like this, at a time like this,
If ancestry can be believed in any way,
Spirits from below have talked with humans,
"And revealed the secrets of the unknown world."

The forests which surrounded our ancestors were the abode of a mysterious race of men of strange demeanor and unascertained origin. The aspects they presented, the stories told of them, and every thing connected with them, served to awaken fear, bewilder the imagination, and aggravate the tendencies of the general condition of things to fanatical enthusiasm.[i.8]

The forests that surrounded our ancestors were home to a mysterious group of people with unusual behavior and uncertain origins. Their appearance, the stories told about them, and everything related to them stirred fear, amazed the imagination, and intensified the existing tendencies towards fanatical enthusiasm.[i.8]

It was the common belief, sanctioned, as will appear in the course of this discussion, not by the clergy alone, but by the most learned scholars of that and the preceding ages, that the American Indians were the subjects and worshippers of the Devil, and their powwows, wizards.

It was generally believed, as will be shown throughout this discussion, not just by the clergy but also by the most knowledgeable scholars of that time and earlier, that the American Indians were followers and worshippers of the Devil, and their powwows were seen as wizards.

In consequence of this opinion, the entire want of confidence and sympathy to which it gave rise, and the provocations naturally incident to two races of men, of dissimilar habits, feelings, and ideas, thrown into close proximity, a state of things was soon brought about which led to conflicts and wars of the most distressing and shocking character. A strongly rooted sentiment of hostility and horror became associated in the minds of the colonists with the name of Indian. There was scarcely a village where the marks of savage violence and cruelty could not be pointed out, or an individual whose family history did not contain some illustration of the stealth, the malice or the vengeance of the savage foe. In 1689, John Bishop, and Nicholas Reed a servant of Edward Putnam; and, in 1690, Godfrey Sheldon, were killed by Indians in Salem. In the year 1691, about six months previous to the commencement of the witchcraft delusion, the county of Essex was ordered to keep twenty-four scouts constantly in the field, to guard the frontiers against the savage enemy, and to give notice of his approach, then looked for every hour with the greatest alarm and apprehension.

As a result of this opinion, the total lack of trust and sympathy it generated, along with the natural tensions between two groups of people with different habits, feelings, and ideas living in close quarters, led to a situation that quickly resulted in conflicts and wars that were extremely distressing and shocking. A deep-seated feeling of hostility and fear became linked in the minds of the colonists with the term "Indian." There was hardly a village without visible signs of brutal violence and cruelty, or an individual whose family history didn’t include some example of the stealth, malice, or vengeance of the savage enemy. In 1689, John Bishop and Nicholas Reed, a servant of Edward Putnam, and in 1690, Godfrey Sheldon, were killed by Indians in Salem. In 1691, about six months before the witchcraft hysteria began, the county of Essex was ordered to keep twenty-four scouts constantly in the field to protect the frontiers from the savage enemy and to alert residents to his approach, which was expected at any moment with the utmost fear and anxiety.

Events soon justified the dread of Indian hostilities[i.9] felt by the people of this neighborhood. Within six years after the witchcraft delusion, incursions of the savage foe took place at various points, carrying terror to all hearts. In August, 1696, they killed or took prisoners fifteen persons at Billerica, burning many houses. In October of the same year, they came upon Newbury, and carried off and tomahawked nine persons; all of whom perished, except a lad who survived his wounds. In 1698, they made a murderous and destructive assault upon Haverhill. The story of the capture, sufferings, and heroic achievements of Hannah Dustin, belongs to the history of this event. It stands by the side of the immortal deed of Judith, and has no other parallel in all the annals of female daring and prowess. On the 3d of July, 1706, a garrison was stormed at night in Dunstable; and Holyoke, a son of Edward Putnam, with three other soldiers, was killed. He was twenty-two years of age. In 1708, seven hundred Algonquin and St. Francis Indians, under the command of French officers, fell again upon Haverhill about break of day, on the 29th of August; consigned the town to conflagration and plunder; destroyed a large amount of property; massacred the minister Mr. Rolfe, the commander of the post Captain Wainwright, together with nearly forty others; and carried off many into captivity. On this occasion, a troop of horse and a foot company from Salem Village rushed to the rescue; the then minister of the parish, the Rev. Joseph Green, seized his gun and went with them. They pursued the flying Indians for[i.10] some distance. So deeply were the people of Haverhill impressed by the valor and conduct of Mr. Green and his people, that they sent a letter of thanks, and desired him to come and preach to them. He complied with the invitation, spent a Sunday there, and thus gave them an opportunity to express personally their gratitude. On other occasions, he accompanied his people on similar expeditions.

Events soon proved the fear of Indian attacks felt by the people in this area. Within six years after the witchcraft panic, raids by the hostile natives began at various locations, spreading fear everywhere. In August 1696, they killed or captured fifteen people in Billerica, burning many homes. In October of that same year, they attacked Newbury, killing nine people and taking others; all but one boy, who survived his injuries, died. In 1698, they launched a brutal and destructive attack on Haverhill. The story of Hannah Dustin's capture, suffering, and heroic actions is part of this event's history. It stands alongside the legendary deed of Judith and has no equal in the records of female bravery and skill. On July 3, 1706, a fort was attacked at night in Dunstable; Holyoke, the son of Edward Putnam, and three other soldiers were killed. He was just twenty-two years old. In 1708, seven hundred Algonquin and St. Francis Indians, led by French officers, attacked Haverhill at dawn on August 29, setting the town ablaze and looting it; they destroyed a large amount of property and massacred the minister Mr. Rolfe, the post commander Captain Wainwright, along with nearly forty others, capturing many. On this occasion, a troop of cavalry and an infantry company from Salem Village rushed to help; the parish minister, Rev. Joseph Green, grabbed his gun and joined them. They chased the fleeing Indians for some distance. The people of Haverhill were so impressed by Mr. Green's bravery and leadership that they sent him a letter of thanks and asked him to come and preach to them. He accepted the invitation, spent a Sunday there, and gave them a chance to personally express their gratitude. On other occasions, he joined his people on similar missions.

These occurrences show that the fears and anxieties of the colonists in reference to Indian assaults were not without grounds at the period of the witchcraft delusion. They were, at that very time, hanging like a storm-cloud over their heads, soon to burst, and spread death and destruction among them.

These events demonstrate that the fears and worries of the colonists about Indian attacks were justified during the time of the witchcraft hysteria. They were, at that moment, looming like a storm cloud overhead, about to unleash death and destruction among them.

There was but little communication between the several villages and settlements. To travel from Boston to Salem, for instance, which the ordinary means of conveyance enable us to do at present in less than an hour, was then the fatiguing, adventurous, and doubtful work of an entire day.

There was very little communication between the various villages and settlements. Traveling from Boston to Salem, for example, which we can now do in less than an hour with regular transportation, used to be a tiring, adventurous, and uncertain journey that took a whole day.

It was the darkest and most desponding period in the civil history of New England. The people, whose ruling passion then was, as it has ever since been, a love for constitutional rights, had, a few years before, been thrown into dismay by the loss of their charter, and, from that time, kept in a feverish state of anxiety respecting their future political destinies. In addition to all this, the whole sea-coast was exposed to danger: ruthless pirates were continually prowling along the shores. Commerce was nearly[i.11] extinguished, and great losses had been experienced by men in business. A recent expedition against Canada had exposed the colonies to the vengeance of France.

It was the darkest and most hopeless time in the civil history of New England. The people, whose main passion has always been a love for constitutional rights, had, a few years earlier, been thrown into despair by the loss of their charter and, from that point on, were in a constant state of anxiety about their political future. On top of all this, the entire coastline was in danger: ruthless pirates were continually lurking along the shores. Trade was nearly[i.11] wiped out, and business people had faced huge losses. A recent expedition against Canada had put the colonies at risk of retaliation from France.

The province was encumbered with oppressive taxes, and weighed down by a heavy debt. The sum assessed upon Salem to defray the expenses of the country at large, the year before the witchcraft prosecutions, was £1,346. 1s. Besides this, there were the town taxes. The whole amounted, no doubt, inclusive of the support of the ministry, to a weight of taxation, considering the greater value of money at that time, of which we have no experience, and can hardly form an adequate conception. The burden pressed directly upon the whole community. There were then no great private fortunes, no moneyed institutions, no considerable foreign commerce, few, if any, articles of luxury, and no large business-capitals to intercept and divert its pressure. It was borne to its whole extent by the unaided industry of a population of extremely moderate estates and very limited earnings, and almost crushed it to the earth.

The province was burdened with heavy taxes and weighed down by a significant debt. The amount charged to Salem to cover the expenses of the larger community, the year before the witchcraft trials, was £1,346. 1s. On top of that, there were additional town taxes. Overall, the total must have included the support of the ministry and represented a level of taxation, considering the higher value of money back then, that we can't fully understand or relate to today. The burden fell directly on the entire community. At that time, there were no massive personal fortunes, no banking institutions, little foreign trade, very few luxury goods, and no large business investments to alleviate the pressure. It was completely shouldered by the hardworking individuals of a population with modest means and limited income, and it nearly crushed them.

The people were dissatisfied with the new charter. They were becoming the victims of political jealousies, discontent, and animosities. They had been agitated by great revolutions. They were surrounded by alarming indications of change, and their ears were constantly assailed by rumors of war. Their minds were startled and confounded by the prevalence of prophecies and forebodings of dark and dismal[i.12] events. At this most unfortunate moment, and, as it were, to crown the whole and fill up the measure of their affliction and terror, it was their universal and sober belief, that the Evil One himself was, in a special manner, let loose, and permitted to descend upon them with unexampled fury.

The people were unhappy with the new charter. They were becoming victims of political rivalries, discontent, and hostility. They had been stirred up by major revolutions. They were faced with alarming signs of change, and their ears were constantly filled with rumors of war. Their minds were shocked and confused by the widespread prophecies and warnings of dark and grim[i.12] events. At this unfortunate time, and as if to further add to their suffering and fear, it was widely believed that the Evil One himself was uniquely unleashed and allowed to come down on them with unprecedented rage.

The people of Salem participated in their full share of the gloom and despondency that pervaded the province, and, in addition to that, had their own peculiar troubles and distresses. Within a short time, the town had lost almost all its venerable fathers and leading citizens, the men whose councils had governed and whose wisdom had guided them from the first years of the settlement of the place. Only those who are intimately acquainted with the condition of a community of simple manners and primitive feelings, such as were the early New-England settlements, can have an adequate conception of the degree to which the people were attached to their patriarchs, the extent of their dependence upon them, and the amount of the loss when they were removed.

The people of Salem experienced the deep gloom and despair that filled the province, and on top of that, they had their own unique troubles and challenges. In a short time, the town had lost nearly all its respected leaders and key citizens—those men whose guidance had led them from the early days of the settlement. Only those who are closely familiar with a community characterized by simple ways and basic emotions, like the early New England settlements, can truly understand how much the people were connected to their leaders, how reliant they were on them, and how significant the loss was when they were gone.

In the midst of this general distress and local gloom and depression, the great and awful tragedy, whose incidents, scenes, and characters I am to present, took place.

In the middle of this widespread suffering and local sadness and despair, the significant and shocking tragedy, with its events, settings, and characters that I am about to share, unfolded.


PART FIRST.


SALEM VILLAGE.


Salem Village, 1866.

Salem Village, 1866.

 

PART FIRST.


SALEM VILLAGE.

 IT is necessary, before entering upon the subject of the witchcraft delusion, to give a particular and extended account of the immediate locality where it occurred, and of the community occupying it. This is demanded by justice to the parties concerned, and indispensable to a correct understanding of the transaction. No one, in truth, can rightly appreciate the character of the rural population of the towns first settled in Massachusetts, without tracing it to its origin, and taking into view the policy that regulated the colonization of the country at the start.

IT is important, before diving into the topic of the witchcraft delusion, to provide a detailed and thorough description of the immediate area where it took place, as well as the community inhabiting it. This is necessary to do justice to those involved and is essential for a proper understanding of the events. In reality, no one can fully appreciate the character of the rural population in the towns that were among the first settled in Massachusetts without tracing its origins and considering the policies that guided the country's early colonization.

"The Governor and Company of the Massachusetts Bay in New England" possessed, by its charter from James the First, dated Nov. 3, 1620, and renewed by Charles the First, March 4, 1629, the entire sovereignty over all the territory assigned to it. Some few conditions and exceptions were incorporated in the grant, which, in the event, proved to be merely nom[i.16]inal. The company, so far as the crown and sovereignty of England were concerned, became absolute owner of the whole territory within its limits, and exercised its powers accordingly. It adopted wise and efficient measures to promote the settlement of the country by emigrants of the best description. It gave to every man who transported himself at his own charge fifty acres of land, and lots, in distinction from farms, to those who should choose to settle and build in towns. In 1628, Captain John Endicott, one of the original patentees, was sent over to superintend the management of affairs on the spot, and carry out the views of the company. On the 30th of April, 1629, the company, by a full and free election, chose said Endicott to be "Governor of the Plantation in the Massachusetts Bay," to hold office for one year "from the time he shall take the oath," and gave him instructions for his government. In reference to the disposal of lands, they provided that persons "who were adventurers," that is, subscribers to the common stock, to the amount of fifty pounds, should have two hundred acres of land, and, at that rate, more or less, "to the intent to build their houses, and to improve their labors thereon." Adventurers who carried families with them were to have fifty acres for each member of their respective families. Other provisions were made, on the same principles, to meet the case of servants taken over; for each of whom an additional number of acres was to be allowed. If a person should choose "to build on the[i.17] plot of ground where the town is intended to be built," he was to have half an acre for every fifty pounds subscribed by him to the common stock. A general discretion was given to Endicott and his council to make grants to particular persons, "according to their charge and quality;" having reference always to the ability of the grantee to improve his allotment. Energetic and intelligent men, having able-bodied sons or servants, even if not adventurers, were to be favorably regarded. Endicott carried out these instructions faithfully and judiciously during his brief administration. In the mean time, it had been determined to transfer the charter, and the company bodily, to New England. Upon this being settled, John Winthrop, with others, joined the company, and he was elected its governor on the 29th of October, 1629. On the 12th of June, 1630, he arrived in Salem, and held his first court at Charlestown on the 28th of August.

"The Governor and Company of the Massachusetts Bay in New England" had complete sovereignty over all the territory granted to it by its charter from James I, dated November 3, 1620, and renewed by Charles I on March 4, 1629. A few conditions and exceptions were included in the grant, but they turned out to be mostly nominal. As far as the crown and sovereignty of England were concerned, the company became the absolute owner of the entire territory within its boundaries and exercised its powers accordingly. It implemented wise and effective measures to encourage the settlement of the land by high-quality emigrants. Every person who traveled at their own expense was given fifty acres of land, and lots, as opposed to farms, to those who chose to settle and build in towns. In 1628, Captain John Endicott, one of the original patentees, was sent to oversee the management of affairs on-site and to implement the company's objectives. On April 30, 1629, the company elected Endicott as "Governor of the Plantation in the Massachusetts Bay" for a one-year term "from the time he takes the oath" and provided him with instructions for his governance. Regarding the allocation of land, they stated that individuals who were "adventurers," meaning subscribers to the common stock for fifty pounds, would receive two hundred acres of land, and proportionally more or less, "to build their houses and improve their labor there." Adventurers who brought families were entitled to fifty acres for each family member. Additional provisions were made for servants brought over, with an extra amount of acres allocated for each. If someone chose "to build on the plot of ground designated for the town," they would receive half an acre for every fifty pounds they subscribed to the common stock. Endicott and his council were given general discretion to grant land to specific individuals "based on their contribution and status," always considering the grantee's ability to improve their allotment. Energetic and capable individuals, especially those with able-bodied sons or servants, even if not adventurers, were to be viewed favorably. Endicott faithfully and wisely executed these instructions during his short administration. Meanwhile, it was decided to transfer the charter and the company itself to New England. Once this was settled, John Winthrop, among others, joined the company, and he was elected its governor on October 29, 1629. He arrived in Salem on June 12, 1630, and held his first court in Charlestown on August 28.

There was some irregularity in these proceedings. The charter fixed a certain time, "yearly, once in the year, for ever hereafter," for the election of governor, deputy-governor, and assistants. Matthew Cradock had been elected accordingly, on the 13th of May, 1629, governor of the company "for the year following." He presided at the General Court of the company when Winthrop was elected governor. There does not appear to have been any formal resignation of his office by Cradock. In point of fact, the charter made no provision for a resignation of office, but only for cases where a vacancy might be occasioned[i.18] by death, or removal by an act of the company. It would have been more regular for the company to have removed Cradock by a formal vote; but the great and weighty matter in which they were engaged prevented their thinking of a mere formality. Cradock had himself conceived the project they had met to carry into effect, and labored to bring it about. He vacated the chair to his successor, on the spot. Still forgetting the provisions of the charter, they declared Winthrop elected "for the ensuing year, to begin on this present day," the 20th of October, 1629. By the language of the charter, he could only be elected to fill the vacancy "in the room or place" of Cradock; that is, for the residue of the official year established by the express provision of that instrument, namely, until the "last Wednesday in Easter term" ensuing. All usage is in favor of this construction. The terms of the charter are explicit; and, if persons chosen to fill vacancies during the course of a year could thus be commissioned to hold an entire year from the date of their election, the provision fixing a certain day "yearly" for the choice of officers would be utterly nullified. Whether this subsequently occurred to Winthrop and his associates is not known; but, if it did, it was impossible for them to act in conformity to the view now given; for, in the ensuing "last Wednesday of Easter term," he was at sea, in mid ocean, and the several members of the company dispersed throughout his fleet. When he arrived in Salem, he found Endicott—who, in the records of the[i.19] company before its transfer to New England, is styled "the Governor beyond the seas"—with his year of office not yet expired. The company had not chosen another in his place, and his commission still held good. It was so evident that the vote extending the term of Winthrop's tenure to a year from the day on which he was chosen, Oct. 20, 1629, was illegal, that when that year expired, in October, 1630, no motion was made to proceed to a new election. In the mean time, however, Endicott's year had expired; and, for aught that appears, there was not, for several months, any legal governor or government at all in the colony. When the next "last Wednesday of Easter term" came round, on the 18th of May, 1631, Winthrop was chosen governor, as the record says, "according to the meaning of the patent;" and all went on smoothly afterwards. If the difficulty into which they had got was apprehended by Winthrop, Endicott, or any of their associates, they were wise enough to see that nothing but mischief could arise from taking notice of it; that no human ingenuity could disentangle the snarl; and that all they could do was to wait for the lapse of time to drift them through. The conduct of these two men on the occasion was truly admirable. Endicott welcomed Winthrop with all the honors due to his position as governor; opened his doors to receive him and his family; and manifested the affectionate respect and veneration with which, from his earliest manhood to his dying day, Winthrop ever inspired all men in all circumstances. Winthrop per[i.20]formed the ceremony at Endicott's marriage. They each went about his own business, and said nothing of the embarrassments attached to their official titles or powers. After a few months, Winthrop held his courts, as though all was in good shape; and Endicott took his seat as an assistant. They proved themselves sensible, high-minded men, of true public spirit, and friends to each other and to the country, which will for ever honor them both as founders and fathers. They entered into no disputes—and their descendants never should—about which was governor, or which first governor.

There were some irregularities in these proceedings. The charter established a specific time, "yearly, once a year, forever hereafter," for the election of a governor, deputy governor, and assistants. Matthew Cradock was elected as governor of the company on May 13, 1629, "for the following year." He chaired the General Court when Winthrop was elected governor. There doesn’t seem to have been a formal resignation from Cradock. In fact, the charter didn’t provide for any resignation but only for situations where there might be a vacancy caused by death or removal by a vote of the company. It would have been more proper for the company to formally vote to remove Cradock, but the significant matters they were dealing with distracted them from such formalities. Cradock had initially thought of the project they were there to implement and worked hard to see it through. He stepped down for his successor right then. Still disregarding the charter provisions, they declared Winthrop elected "for the coming year, starting today," October 20, 1629. According to the charter, he could only be elected to fill the vacancy "in the room or place" of Cradock; that means for the remainder of the official year specified by the charter, until the "last Wednesday in Easter term" that followed. Custom supports this interpretation. The terms of the charter are clear; if those chosen to fill vacancies during the year could be given a full year of authority from their election date, the provision that sets a specific day "yearly" for electing officers would be entirely rendered meaningless. Whether this realization occurred to Winthrop and his associates isn’t known; but if it did, they were unable to act according to that understanding because on the next "last Wednesday of Easter term," he was at sea and the other members were scattered across his fleet. When he arrived in Salem, he found Endicott—who, in the company records before it moved to New England, is referred to as "the Governor beyond the seas"—still in office with his term not yet over. The company hadn’t elected anyone to replace him, and his commission remained valid. It was clear that the vote extending Winthrop's term for a year from the day he was elected, October 20, 1629, was illegal; hence when that year ended in October 1630, no motion was made to hold a new election. Meanwhile, however, Endicott’s term had ended; and it appears that, for several months, there was no legal governor or government in the colony at all. When the next "last Wednesday of Easter term" came, on May 18, 1631, Winthrop was elected governor, as the record states, "according to the meaning of the patent;" and everything proceeded smoothly afterward. If Winthrop, Endicott, or any of their associates recognized the complications they had fallen into, they were wise enough to realize that addressing it would only lead to trouble; that no cleverness could untangle the mess; and that all they could do was wait for time to carry them through. The actions of these two men during this time were truly admirable. Endicott welcomed Winthrop with all the respect due to him as governor; he opened his home to receive Winthrop and his family; and showed the affection and respect Winthrop continually inspired in everyone throughout his life. Winthrop officiated at Endicott's wedding. They each focused on their own responsibilities and didn’t mention the complications related to their official titles or powers. After a few months, Winthrop held his courts as if everything was perfectly fine, and Endicott served as an assistant. They proved to be sensible, high-minded men, truly committed to the public good, and friends to each other and to the colony, which will always honor them as founders and fathers. They entered into no disputes—and their descendants never should—about who was governor or who was the first governor.

The disposal of lands, at the expiration of Endicott's delegated administration, passed back into the hands of the company, and was conducted by the General Court upon the policy established at its meetings in London. On the 3d of March, 1635, the General Court relinquished the control and disposal of lands, within the limits of towns, to the towns themselves. After this, all grants of lands in Salem were made by the people of the town or their own local courts. The original land policy was faithfully adhered to here, as it probably was in the other towns.

The management of land, after Endicott's assigned administration ended, returned to the company and was handled by the General Court according to the guidelines set during its meetings in London. On March 3, 1635, the General Court gave up control and authority over land within town boundaries to the towns themselves. From then on, all land grants in Salem were issued by the townspeople or their local courts. This original land policy was closely followed here, as it likely was in other towns as well.

The following is a copy of the Act:—

The following is a copy of the Act:—

"Whereas particular towns have many things which concern only themselves, and the ordering of their own affairs, and disposing of businesses in their own towns, it is therefore ordered, that the freemen of any town, or the major part of them, shall only have power to dispose of their own lands and woods, with all the privileges and appurtenances of the[i.21] said towns, to grant lots, and make such orders as may concern the well ordering of their own towns, not repugnant to the laws and orders here established by the General Court; as also to lay mulcts and penalties for the breach of these orders, and to levy and distress the same, not exceeding the sum of twenty shillings; also to choose their own particular officers, as constables, surveyors of the high-ways, and the like; and because much business is like to ensue to the constables of several towns, by reason they are to make distress, and gather fines, therefore that every town shall have two constables, where there is need, that so their office may not be a burthen unto them, and they may attend more carefully upon the discharge of their office, for which they shall be liable to give their accounts to this court, when they shall be called thereunto."

"While some towns have specific matters that only affect them and the management of their own affairs, it is therefore established that the freemen of any town, or the majority of them, shall only have the authority to manage their own lands and woods, along with all the rights and benefits of the[i.21] said towns, to allocate lots, and make decisions that pertain to the proper functioning of their own towns, as long as those decisions do not conflict with the laws and regulations established by the General Court. They also have the right to impose fines and penalties for violating these rules, and to collect those fines, not exceeding twenty shillings; moreover, they may elect their own local officials, like constables, highway surveyors, and similar roles. Because constables from different towns will have an increased workload due to the need to collect fines and enforce penalties, each town that requires it shall have two constables, so their responsibilities do not become too burdensome, allowing them to perform their duties more effectively. They are also required to provide their accounts to this court when requested."

The reflecting student of political science will probably regard this as the most important legislative act in our annals. Towns had existed before, but were scarcely more than local designations, or convenient divisions of the people and territories. This called them into being as depositories and agents of political power in its mightiest efficacy and most vital force. It remitted to the people their original sovereignty. Before, that sovereignty had rested in the hands of a remote central deputation; this returned it to them in their primary capacity, and brought it back, in its most important elements, to their immediate control. It gave them complete possession and absolute power over their own lands, and provided the machinery for managing their own neighborhoods and making and[i.22] executing their own laws in what is, after all, the greatest sphere of government,—that which concerns ordinary, daily, immediate relations. It gave to the people the power to do and determine all that the people can do and determine, by themselves. It created the towns as the solid foundation of the whole political structure of the State, trained the people as in a perpetual school for self-government, and fitted them to be the guardians of republican liberty and order.

The thoughtful student of political science will likely see this as the most significant legislative act in our history. Towns had existed before, but they were hardly more than local labels or convenient divisions of people and land. This legislation established them as holders and representatives of political power at its strongest and most impactful. It returned the people their original sovereignty. Previously, that sovereignty was held by a distant central authority; now it was restored to the people in their basic form, bringing it back to their direct control in its most essential aspects. It granted them full ownership and absolute authority over their own lands and set up a system for managing their neighborhoods and creating and [i.22] enforcing their own laws in what is, after all, the most significant area of government—the one that deals with everyday, immediate interactions. It empowered the people to do and decide everything that they can do and decide for themselves. It established the towns as the solid foundation of the entire political structure of the State, educated the people like a continuous school for self-governance, and prepared them to be the defenders of republican freedom and order.

Large tracts were granted to men who had the disposition and the means for improving them by opening roads, building bridges, clearing forests, and bringing the surface into a state for cultivation. Men of property, education, and high social position, were thus made to lead the way in developing the agricultural resources of the country, and giving character to the farming interest and class. In cases where men of energy, industry, and intelligence presented themselves, if not adventurers in the common stock, with no other property than their strong arms and resolute wills, particularly if they had able-bodied sons, liberal grants were made. Every one who had received a town lot of half an acre was allowed to relinquish it, receiving, in exchange, a country lot of fifty acres or more. Under this system, a population of a superior order was led out into the forest. Farms quickly spread into the interior, seeking the meadows, occupying the arable land, and especially following up the streams.

Large areas of land were given to people who had the ability and resources to improve them by building roads, constructing bridges, clearing forests, and preparing the land for farming. Wealthy, educated individuals from higher social classes were encouraged to take the lead in developing the agricultural potential of the country and shaping the farming community. When hardworking, capable individuals came forward—especially those who weren’t just adventurers with nothing but their determination and strong backs, particularly if they had strong sons—generous land grants were provided. Anyone who received a town lot of half an acre could give it up in exchange for a rural lot of fifty acres or more. This approach encouraged a skilled population to move into the forests. Farms quickly expanded into the interior, seeking meadows, using arable land, and especially following the rivers.

I propose to illustrate this by a very particular enumeration of instances, and by details that will give[i.23] us an insight of the personal, domestic, and social elements that constituted the condition of life in the earliest age of New England, particularly in that part of the old township of Salem where the scene of our story is laid. I shall give an account of the persons and families who first settled the region included in, and immediately contiguous to, Salem Village, and whose children and grandchildren were actors or sufferers in, or witnesses of, the witchcraft delusion. I am able, by the map, to show the boundaries, to some degree of precision, of their farms, and the spots on or near which their houses stood.

I plan to illustrate this by highlighting specific examples and details that will give us an understanding of the personal, domestic, and social factors that shaped life during the early days of New England, especially in that part of the old township of Salem where our story takes place. I will provide a description of the people and families who first settled in the area surrounding Salem Village, whose children and grandchildren were involved in, affected by, or witnesses to the witchcraft frenzy. I am able, by the map, to show the boundaries of their farms with some accuracy, as well as the locations of their homes.

The first grant of land made by the company, after it had got fairly under way, was of six hundred acres to Governor Winthrop, on the 6th of September, 1631, "near his house at Mystic." The next was to the deputy-governor, Thomas Dudley, on the 5th of June, 1632, of two hundred acres "on the west side of Charles River, over against the new town," now Cambridge. The next, on the 3d of July, 1632, was three hundred acres to John Endicott. It is described, in the record, as "bounded on the south side with a river, commonly called the Cow House River, on the north side with a river, commonly called the Duck River, on the east with a river, leading up to the two former rivers, known by the name of Wooleston River, and on the west with the main land." The meaning of the Indian word applied to this territory was "Birch-wood." At the period of the witchcraft delusion, and for some time afterwards, "Cow House River" was[i.24] called "Endicott River." Subsequently it acquired the name of "Waters River."

The first land grant made by the company, once it got going, was for six hundred acres to Governor Winthrop on September 6, 1631, "near his house at Mystic." The next was to the deputy-governor, Thomas Dudley, on June 5, 1632, for two hundred acres "on the west side of Charles River, across from the new town," now Cambridge. After that, on July 3, 1632, three hundred acres were granted to John Endicott. The record describes it as "bounded on the south side by a river, commonly called the Cow House River, on the north side by a river, commonly called the Duck River, on the east by a river leading up to the two former rivers, known as Wooleston River, and on the west by the mainland." The meaning of the Indian word used for this area was "Birch-wood." During the witchcraft panic and for some time afterward, "Cow House River" was[i.24] known as "Endicott River." Later, it became known as "Waters River."

This grant constituted what was called "the Governor's Orchard Farm." In conformity with the policy on which grants were made, Endicott at once proceeded to occupy and improve it, by clearing off the woods, erecting buildings, making roads, and building bridges. His dwelling-house embraced in its view the whole surrounding country, with the arms of the sea. From the more elevated points of his farm, the open sea was in sight. A road was opened by him, from the head of tide water on Duck, now Crane, River, through the Orchard Farm, and round the head of Cow House River, to the town of Salem, in one direction, and to Lynn and Boston in another. A few years afterwards, the town granted him two hundred acres more, contiguous to the western line of the Orchard Farm. After this, and as a part of the transaction, the present Ipswich road was made, and the old road through the Orchard Farm discontinued. This illustrates the policy of the land grants. They were made to persons who had the ability to lay out roads. The present bridge over Crane River was probably built by Endicott and the parties to whom what is now called the Plains, one of the principal villages of Danvers, had been granted. The tract granted by the town was popularly called the "Governor's Plain." By giving, in this way, large tracts of land to men of means, the country was opened and made accessible to settlers who had no pecuniary ability to incur large[i.25] outlays in the way of general improvements, but had the requisite energy and industry to commence the work of subduing the forest and making farms for themselves. To them, smaller grants were made.

This grant was known as "the Governor's Orchard Farm." Following the policy for these grants, Endicott immediately began to occupy and improve the land by clearing the woods, building structures, creating roads, and constructing bridges. His house offered a view of the entire surrounding area, including the arms of the sea. From the higher points of his farm, he could see the open sea. He opened a road from the head of tidewater on Duck, now Crane, River, through the Orchard Farm, and around Cow House River, leading to the town of Salem in one direction, and to Lynn and Boston in the other. A few years later, the town granted him an additional two hundred acres adjacent to the western edge of the Orchard Farm. Following this, as part of the arrangement, the current Ipswich road was built, and the old road through the Orchard Farm was discontinued. This demonstrates the policy behind land grants; they were given to individuals who could develop roads. The current bridge over Crane River was likely constructed by Endicott and those to whom the area now known as the Plains, one of Danvers' main villages, had been granted. The area granted by the town became popularly known as the "Governor's Plain." By allocating large areas of land to wealthy individuals in this manner, the region was opened up and made accessible to settlers who lacked the financial resources for significant investments in improvements but possessed the necessary energy and determination to start clearing forests and creating farms for themselves. Smaller grants were provided to those individuals.

The character of the population, thus aided at the beginning in settling the country, cannot be appreciated without giving some idea of what it was to open the wilderness for occupancy and cultivation. This is a subject which those who have always lived in other than frontier towns do not perhaps understand.

The nature of the population, which initially helped settle the country, can't be understood without considering what it meant to clear the wilderness for settlement and farming. This is a topic that those who have always lived in places other than frontier towns might not fully grasp.

How much of the land had been previously cleared by the aboriginal tribes, it may be somewhat difficult to determine. They were but slightly attached to the soil, had temporary and movable habitations, and no bulky implements or articles of furniture. They were nomadic in their habits. On the coast and its inlets, their light canoes gave easy means of transportation, for their families and all that they possessed, from point to point, and, further inland, over intervening territory, from river to river. They probably seldom attempted, in this part of the country, to clear the rugged and stony uplands. In some instances, they removed the trees from the soft alluvial meadows, although it is probable that in only a very few localities they would have attempted such a persistent and laborious undertaking. There were large salt marshes, and here and there meadows, free from timber. There were spots where fires had swept over the land and the trees disappeared. On such spots they probably planted their corn; the land being made at once fertile[i.26] and easily cultivable, by the effects of the fires. Near large inland sheets of water, having no outlets passable by their canoes, and well stocked with fish, they sometimes had permanent plantations, as at Will's Hill. With such slight exceptions, when the white settler came upon his grant, he found it covered by the primeval wilderness, thickly set with old trees, whose roots, as well as branches, were interlocked firmly with each other, the surface obstructed with tangled and prickly underbrush; the soil broken, and mixed with rocks and stones,—the entire face of the country hilly, rugged, and intersected by swamps and winding streams.

It's a bit tough to figure out how much land the Indigenous tribes had already cleared. They were only loosely tied to the land, lived in temporary and movable homes, and didn’t have heavy tools or lots of furniture. They led a nomadic lifestyle. Along the coast and its inlets, their lightweight canoes made it easy to transport their families and belongings from one point to another. Further inland, they moved between rivers across the land. They likely didn’t often try to clear the rough, stony hills in this region. Sometimes, they did remove trees from the soft, fertile meadows, but only in a few places would they have taken on such a challenging and labor-intensive task. There were large salt marshes and some clear meadows without trees. There were spots where fires had cleared the land, and they probably planted their corn there, making the soil fertile and easy to cultivate due to the fire's effects. Near large inland bodies of water with no accessible outlets for their canoes, and stocked with fish, they sometimes established permanent farms, like at Will's Hill. With those few exceptions, when white settlers arrived on their land grants, they found it covered in dense, untouched wilderness, thick with old trees whose roots and branches were tightly intertwined, the ground tangled with prickly underbrush, and the soil mixed with rocks and stones—the entire landscape was hilly, rugged, and filled with swamps and winding streams.

Among all the achievements of human labor and perseverance recorded in history, there is none more herculean than the opening of a New-England forest to cultivation. The fables of antiquity are all suggestive of instruction, and infold wisdom. The earliest inhabitants of every wooded country, who subdued its wilderness, were truly a race of giants.

Among all the accomplishments of human effort and determination noted in history, none is more daunting than transforming a New England forest into farmland. The stories of the past are all meant to teach us something and hold wisdom within. The first people to settle every forested region, who tamed its wildness, were truly a remarkable group.

Let any one try the experiment of felling and eradicating a single tree, and he will begin to approach an estimate of what the first English settler had before him, as he entered upon his work. It was not only a work of the utmost difficulty, calling for the greatest possible exercise of physical toil, strength, patience, and perseverance, but it was a work of years and generations. The axe, swung by muscular arms, could, one by one, fell the trees. There was no machinery to aid in extracting the tough roots, equal, often, in[i.27] size and spread, to the branches. The practice was to level by the axe a portion of the forest, managing so as to have the trees fall inward, early in the season. After the summer had passed, and the fallen timber become dried, fire would be set to the whole tract covered by it. After it had smouldered out, there would be left charred trunks and stumps. The trunks would then be drawn together, piled in heaps, and burned again. Between the blackened stumps, barley or some other grain, and probably corn, would be planted, and the lapse of years waited for, before the roots would be sufficiently decayed to enable oxen with chains to extract them. Then the rocks and stones would have to be removed, before the plough could, to any considerable extent, be applied. As late as 1637, the people of Salem voted twenty acres, to be added within two years to his previous grant, to Richard Hutchinson, upon the condition that he would, in the mean time, "set up ploughing." The meadow to the eastward of the meeting-house, seen in the head-piece of this Part, probably was the ground where ploughing was thus first "set up." The plough had undoubtedly been used before in town-lots, and by some of the old planters who had secured favorable open locations along the coves and shores; but it required all this length of time to bring the interior country into a condition for its use.

Anyone who tries the experiment of cutting down and clearing a single tree will start to understand what the first English settler faced as they began their work. It was not just an extremely difficult task that required intense physical effort, strength, patience, and perseverance; it was a project that took years and generations. A strong person could chop down trees one by one with an axe. There was no machinery to help remove the tough roots, which were often as big and spread out as the branches. The approach was to clear a section of the forest with the axe, aiming to have the trees fall inward early in the season. After summer, once the fallen timber had dried out, fire would be set to the entire area. After it burned out, all that remained were charred trunks and stumps. The trunks would then be gathered, piled into heaps, and burned again. Between the blackened stumps, barley or another grain, and probably corn, would be planted, and people would wait for years until the roots decayed enough for oxen to pull them out with chains. Then, rocks and stones would need to be cleared before the plow could be used effectively. As late as 1637, the people of Salem voted to give twenty acres, to be added in two years to his earlier grant, to Richard Hutchinson, on the condition that he would, in the meantime, "set up ploughing." The meadow east of the meeting house, shown in the heading of this Part, was likely where ploughing was first "set up." The plow had certainly been used previously in town lots and by some of the early settlers who had managed to secure good open spots near the coves and shores, but it took all this time to prepare the interior land for its use.

The opening of a wilderness combined circumstances of interest which are not, perhaps, equalled in any other occupation. It is impossible to imagine a[i.28] more exhilarating or invigorating employment. It developed the muscular powers more equally and effectively than any other. The handling of the axe brought into exercise every part of the manly frame. It afforded room for experience and skill, as well as strength; it was an athletic art of the highest kind, and awakened energy, enterprise, and ambition; it was accompanied with sufficient danger to invest it with interest, and demand the most careful judgment and observation. He who best knew how to fell a tree was justly looked upon as the most valuable and the leading man. To bring a tall giant of the woods to the ground was a noble and perilous achievement. As it slowly trembled and tottered to its fall, it was all-important to give it the right direction, so that, as it came down with a thundering crash, it might not be diverted from its expected course by the surrounding trees and their multifarious branches, or its trunk slide off or rebound in an unforeseen manner, scattering fragments and throwing limbs upon the choppers below. Accidents often, deaths sometimes, occurred. A skilful woodman, by a glance at the surrounding trees and their branches, could tell where the tree on which he was about to operate should fall, and bring it unerringly to the ground in the right direction. There was, moreover, danger from lurking savages; and, if the chopper was alone in the deep woods, from the prowling solitary bear, or hungry wolves, which, going in packs, were sometimes formidable. There were elements also, in the work, that awakened[i.29] the finer sentiments. The lonely and solemn woods are God's first temples. They are full of mystic influences; they nourish the poetic nature; they feed the imagination. The air is elastic, and every sound reverberates in broken, strange, and inexplicable intonations. The woods are impregnated with a health-giving and delightful fragrance nowhere else experienced. All the arts of modern luxury fail to produce an aroma like that which pervades a primitive forest of pines and spruces. Indeed, all trees, in an original wilderness, where they exist in every stage of growth and decay, contribute to this peculiar charm of the woods. It was not only a manly, but a most lively, occupation. When many were working near each other, the echoes of their voices of cheer, of the sharp and ringing tones of their axes, and of the heavy concussions of the falling timber, produced a music that filled the old forests with life, and made labor joyous and refreshing.

The beginning of a wilderness combined aspects of interest that are probably unmatched in any other job. It's hard to imagine a more thrilling and energizing task. It developed physical strength more evenly and effectively than anything else. Using an axe engaged every part of a man's body. It required not just strength but also experience and skill; it was a high-level athletic challenge that sparked energy, initiative, and ambition. The work came with enough risk to make it interesting and demanded careful judgment and attention. The person who knew best how to chop down a tree was rightfully seen as the most valuable and leading figure. Bringing down a tall tree was a remarkable and hazardous feat. As the tree swayed and staggered before it fell, it was crucial to guide its direction so that, when it came down with a thunderous crash, it wouldn’t veer off course due to nearby trees and their various branches or slide or bounce unexpectedly, potentially scattering debris and limbs on the lumberjacks below. Accidents, and sometimes fatalities, could happen. A skilled lumberjack could, with just a glance at the surrounding trees and branches, determine where the tree he was about to fell should land and bring it down accurately. There was also the risk of lurking Native Americans; and if the logger was alone in the dense woods, he faced the danger of a wandering bear or hungry wolves, which could be quite intimidating in packs. Additionally, the work stirred deeper feelings. The quiet and solemn woods are nature's first churches. They are filled with mystical influences; they nurture creativity and stimulate the imagination. The air is refreshing, and every sound echoes in strange and unpredictable ways. The woods are infused with a life-giving and pleasant scent that is unmatched anywhere else. No modern luxury can replicate the aroma of a primitive forest filled with pines and spruces. In fact, all trees in their original wilderness, existing in every stage of growth and decay, add to this unique charm of the forest. It was not only a masculine but also a highly stimulating job. When many were working close together, the sounds of their cheerful voices, the sharp, ringing strikes of their axes, and the heavy thuds of falling timber created a music that filled the ancient forests with life, making work enjoyable and refreshing.

The length of time required to prepare a country covered by a wilderness, on a New-England soil, for cultivation, may be estimated by the facts I have stated. A long lapse of years must intervene, after the woods have been felled and their dried trunks and branches burned, before the stumps can be extracted, the land levelled, the stones removed, the plough introduced, or the smooth green fields, which give such beauty to agricultural scenes, be presented. An immense amount of the most exhausting labor must be expended in the process. The world looks with[i.30] wonder on the dykes of Holland, the wall of China, the pyramids of Egypt. I do not hesitate to say that the results produced by the small, scattered population of the American colonies, during their first century, in tearing up a wilderness by its roots, transforming the rocks, with which the surface was covered, into walls, opening roads, building bridges, and making a rough and broken country smooth and level, converting a sterile waste into fertile fields blossoming with verdure and grains and fruitage, is a more wonderful monument of human industry and perseverance than them all. It was a work, not of mere hired laborers, still less of servile minions, but of freemen owning, or winning by their voluntary and cheerful toil, the acres on which they labored, and thus entitling themselves to be the sovereigns of the country they were creating. A few thousands of such men, with such incentives, wrought wonders greater than millions of slaves or serfs ever have accomplished, or ever will.

The time it takes to get a wilderness area in New England ready for farming can be seen from the facts I've shared. Years must pass after the trees have been cut down and their dried trunks and branches burned before the stumps can be removed, the land leveled, the stones cleared, the plow introduced, or the beautiful, smooth green fields that make agricultural scenes so stunning can appear. An enormous amount of exhausting work is required throughout this process. People admire the dikes of Holland, the Great Wall of China, and the pyramids of Egypt. I unequivocally say that what the small, scattered population of the American colonies achieved in their first century—completely transforming a wilderness, turning the rocks from the surface into walls, building roads and bridges, and making a rough, uneven area smooth and flat, changing a barren wasteland into lush, fertile fields filled with greenery, grains, and fruits—is a more incredible testament to human effort and determination than any of those. This was not just the work of hired laborers, much less of oppressed workers, but of free individuals who owned or earned through their willing and joyful labor the land they worked on, thus claiming their right to be the rulers of the country they were creating. A few thousand such men, driven by these motivations, accomplished feats greater than millions of slaves or serfs ever have or ever will.

It was not, therefore, from mere favoritism, or a blind subserviency to men of wealth or station, that such liberal grants of land were made to Winthrop, Dudley, Endicott, and others, but for various wise and good reasons, having the welfare and happiness of the whole people, especially the poorer classes, in view. In illustration of the one now under consideration, a few facts may be presented. They will show the amount of labor required to bring the "Orchard Farm" into cultivation, and which must have been procured[i.31] at a large outlay in money by the proprietor. In the court-files are many curious papers, in the shape of depositions given by witnesses in suits of various kinds, arising from time to time, showing that large numbers of hired men were kept constantly at work. Nov. 10, 1678, Edmund Grover, seventy-eight years old, testified, "that, above forty-five years since, I, this deponent, wrought much upon Governor Endicott's farm, called Orchard, and did, about that time, help to cut and cleave about seven thousand palisadoes, as I remember, and was the first that made improvement thereof, by breaking up of ground and planting of Indian-corn." The land was granted to Endicott in July, 1632; and the work in which Grover, with others, was engaged, commenced undoubtedly forthwith. Palisadoes were young trees, of about six inches in diameter at the butt, cut into poles of about ten feet in length, sharpened at the larger end, and driven into the ground; those that were split or cloven were used as rails. In this way, lots were fenced in. In some cases, the upright posts were placed close together, as palisades in fortifications, to prevent the escape of domestic animals, and as a safeguard against depredations upon the young cattle, sheep, and poultry, by bears, wolves, foxes, the loup-cervier, or wild-cat, with which the woods were infested. Grover seems to have wrought on the Orchard Farm for a short time. We find, that, a few years after the point to which his testimony goes back, he had a farm of his own. Some wrought there for a longer time, and were permanent[i.32] retainers on the farm. In 1635, the widow Scarlett apprenticed her son Benjamin, then eleven years of age, to Governor Endicott. The following document, recorded in Essex Registry of Deeds, tells his story:—

It wasn't just favoritism or blindly going along with wealthy or powerful people that led to the generous land grants given to Winthrop, Dudley, Endicott, and others; it was for various thoughtful and beneficial reasons aimed at the welfare and happiness of everyone, especially the poorer classes. To illustrate the matter at hand, a few facts can be shared. They'll demonstrate the amount of labor needed to cultivate the "Orchard Farm," which would have required a significant financial investment by the owner. The court records contain many interesting documents, including testimonies from witnesses in various lawsuits over time, showing that large numbers of workers were consistently employed. On November 10, 1678, seventy-eight-year-old Edmund Grover testified, "More than forty-five years ago, I worked a lot on Governor Endicott's farm, called Orchard, and around that time, I helped cut and split about seven thousand palisades, as I recall, and was the first to improve it by breaking up the ground and planting corn." The land was granted to Endicott in July 1632, and the work Grover and others were involved in likely started immediately. Palisades were young trees, about six inches in diameter at the base, cut into poles around ten feet long, sharpened at one end, and driven into the ground; the split ones were used as rails. This was how the plots were fenced in. In some instances, the upright posts were placed closely together, like palisades in fortifications, to prevent farm animals from escaping and to protect them from predators like bears, wolves, foxes, and wildcats that infested the woods. Grover seems to have worked on the Orchard Farm for a brief period. We find that a few years after the time he refers to, he had a farm of his own. Some people worked there longer and became permanent workers on the farm. In 1635, widow Scarlett apprenticed her son Benjamin, then eleven years old, to Governor Endicott. The following document, recorded in the Essex Registry of Deeds, tells his story:—

"To all christian people to whom these presents shall come, I, Benjamin Scarlett of Salem, in New England, sendeth Greeting—Know ye, that I, the said Benjamin Scarlett, having lived as a servant with Mr. John Endicott, Esq., sometimes Governor in New England, and served him near upon thirty years, for, and in consideration whereof, the said Governor Endicott gave unto me, the said Benjamin Scarlett, a certain tract of land, in the year 1650, being about 10 acres, more or less, the which land hath ever since been possessed by me, the said Benjamin Scarlett, and it lyeth at the head of Cow House River, bounded on the north with the land of Mr. Endicott called Orchard Farm, on the South with the high way leading to the salt water, on the West with the road way leading to Salem, on the East with the salt water, which tract of land was given to me, as aforesaid, during my life, and in case I should leave no issue of my body, to give it to such of his posterity as I should see cause to bestow it upon; Know ye, therefore, that I, the said Benjamin Scarlett, for divers considerations me thereunto moving, have given, granted, and by these presents do give and grant, assign, sett over, and bestow the aforesaid tract of land, with all the improvements I have made thereon, both by building, fencing, or otherwise, unto Samuel Endicott, second son to Zerubabel Endicott deceased, and unto Hannah his wife, to have and to hold the said ten acres of land, more or less, with all the privileges and appurtenances thereunto belonging, unto the said Samuel[i.33] Endicott and Hannah his wife, to his and her own proper use and behoof forever; and after their decease I give the said tract of land to their son Samuel Endicott. In case he should depart this life without issue, then to be given to the next heir of the said Samuel and Hannah.—In witness whereof I have hereunto set my hand and seal.—Dated the ninth of January one thousand six hundred and ninety one.—Benjamin Scarlett, his mark."

"To all Christian people who receive this, I, Benjamin Scarlett of Salem, in New England, send greetings—Know that I, the said Benjamin Scarlett, having worked as a servant for Mr. John Endicott, Esq., who was sometimes Governor in New England, and having served him for nearly thirty years, for which reason Governor Endicott granted me, the said Benjamin Scarlett, a certain piece of land in the year 1650, consisting of about 10 acres, more or less, which I have possessed ever since. This land is located at the head of Cow House River, bordered on the north by Mr. Endicott's land known as Orchard Farm, on the south by the highway leading to the salt water, on the west by the road leading to Salem, and on the east by the salt water. This tract of land was granted to me, as mentioned, for my lifetime, and in the event that I have no children, to pass it to any of his descendants that I choose; therefore, I, the said Benjamin Scarlett, for various considerations moving me, have given, granted, and by these presents do give and grant, assign, set over, and bestow the said tract of land, with all the improvements I have made upon it, whether by building, fencing, or otherwise, to Samuel Endicott, the second son of the deceased Zerubabel Endicott, and to his wife Hannah, to have and hold the said ten acres of land, more or less, with all the privileges and appurtenances belonging to it, for the proper use of Samuel Endicott and Hannah his wife forever; and after their passing, I give the said tract of land to their son Samuel Endicott. In case he passes away without children, it shall then be given to the next heir of the said Samuel and Hannah.—In witness whereof, I have set my hand and seal hereunto.—Dated January 9, 1691.—Ben Scarlett, his mark."

It is to be observed, that Governor Endicott had died twenty-six years, and his son Zerubabel seven years, before the date of the foregoing deed. No writings had passed between them in reference to the final disposition Scarlett was conditionally to make of the estate. There were no living witnesses of the original understanding. But the old man was true to the sentiments of honor and gratitude. The master to whom he had been apprenticed in his boyhood had been kind and generous to him, and he was faithful to the letter and spirit of his engagement. He evidently made a point to have the language of the deed as strong as it could be. He did not leave the matter to be settled by a will, but determined to enjoy, while living, the satisfaction of being true to his plighted faith. He was known, in his later years, as "old Ben Scarlett." He did not feel ashamed to call himself a servant. But humble and unpretending as he was, I feel a pride in rescuing his name from oblivion. Old Ben Scarlett will for ever hold his place among nature's nobles,—honest men.

It's worth noting that Governor Endicott passed away twenty-six years ago, and his son Zerubabel seven years ago, before the date of the deed mentioned earlier. No documents had been exchanged between them regarding the final plans Scarlett was meant to fulfill for the estate. There were no living witnesses to the original agreement. However, the old man remained true to his sense of honor and gratitude. The master he apprenticed under as a boy had been kind and generous to him, and he stayed loyal to the letter and spirit of his commitment. He clearly made an effort to ensure the language of the deed was as strong as possible. He didn’t leave it to a will to settle the matter but chose to experience, while alive, the satisfaction of being true to his word. In his later years, he was known as "old Ben Scarlett." He wasn't ashamed to call himself a servant. But as humble and unassuming as he was, I take pride in bringing his name back to light. Old Ben Scarlett will always be remembered among nature's nobles—honest men.

The extent to which Endicott went in improving his[i.34] lands is shown in the particular department which gave the name to his original grant. In 1648, he bought of Captain Trask two hundred and fifty acres of land, in another locality, giving in exchange five hundred apple-trees, of three years' growth. Such a number of fruit-trees of that age, disposable at so early a period, could only be the result of a great expenditure of labor and money. So many operations going on under his direction and within his premises made his farm a school, in which large numbers were trained to every variety of knowledge needed by an original settler. The subduing of the wilderness; the breaking of the ground; the building of bridges, stone-walls, "palisadoes," houses, and barns; the processes of planting; the introduction of all suitable articles of culture; the methods best adapted to the preparation of the rugged soil for production; the rearing of abundant orchards and bountiful crops; the smoothing and levelling of lands, and the laying-out of roads,—these were all going at once, and it was quite desirable for young men to work on his farm, before going out deeper into the wilderness to make farms for themselves. There were many besides Grover who availed themselves of the advantage. John Putnam was a large landholder, and an original grantee; but we find his youngest son, John, attached to Endicott's establishment, and working on his farm about the time of his maturity. In a deposition in court, in a land case of disputed boundaries, August, 1705, "John Putnam, Sr., of full age, testifieth and saith that—being a re[i.35]tainer in Governor Endicott's family, about fifty years since, and being intimately acquainted with the governor himself and with his son, Mr. Zerubabel Endicott, late of Salem, deceased, who succeeded in his father's right, and lived and died on the farm called Orchard Farm, in Salem—the said Governor Endicott did oftentimes tell this deponent," &c. The same John Putnam, in a deposition dated 1678, says that he was then fifty years old, and that, thirty-five years before, he was at Mr. Endicott's farm, and went out to a certain place called "Vine Cove," where he found Mr. Endicott; and he testifies to a conversation that he heard between Mr. Endicott and one of his men, Walter Knight. I mention these things to show that a lad of fifteen, a son of a neighbor of large estate in lands, was an intimate visitor at the Orchard Farm; and that, when he became of age, before entering upon the work of clearing lands of his own, given by his father, he went as "a retainer" to work on the governor's farm. He went as a voluntary laborer, as to a school of agricultural training. This was done on other farms, first occupied by men who had the means and the enterprise to carry on large operations. It gave a high character, in their particular employment, to the first settlers generally.

The extent to which Endicott improved his[i.34] lands is highlighted by the particular department that gave his original grant its name. In 1648, he purchased two hundred and fifty acres of land from Captain Trask in another area, giving in return five hundred apple trees that were three years old. This number of fruit trees at such an early time could only result from an extensive investment of labor and money. The many projects happening under his direction on his property turned his farm into a place where numerous people learned all kinds of skills needed by original settlers. The efforts included taming the wilderness, breaking ground, building bridges, stone walls, palisades, houses, and barns; planting; introducing suitable cultivation methods; preparing the rugged soil for production; cultivating abundant orchards and bountiful crops; leveling land and laying out roads—these activities were all happening simultaneously, making it very appealing for young men to work on his farm before venturing further into the wilderness to establish their own farms. Many people besides Grover took advantage of this opportunity. John Putnam was a significant landowner and an original grantee; however, his youngest son, John, was connected to Endicott's operation and worked on his farm around the time that he came of age. In a court deposition regarding a land boundary dispute in August 1705, "John Putnam, Sr., of full age, testifies that—being a retainer in Governor Endicott's family about fifty years ago and being well acquainted with the governor himself and with his son, Mr. Zerubabel Endicott, late of Salem, deceased, who succeeded his father and lived and died on the farm called Orchard Farm in Salem—the Governor Endicott often told this deponent," etc. The same John Putnam, in a deposition from 1678, mentions that he was then fifty years old and that thirty-five years earlier, he had been at Mr. Endicott's farm and had gone out to a specific place called "Vine Cove," where he found Mr. Endicott; he also testifies to a conversation he overheard between Mr. Endicott and one of his workers, Walter Knight. I mention these details to show that a fifteen-year-old boy, the son of a well-off neighbor, regularly visited Orchard Farm, and when he came of age, before starting the work of clearing his own land inherited from his father, he became a "retainer" working on the governor's farm. He did so voluntarily, treating it as a school for agricultural training. This practice also happened on other farms first occupied by those with the means and motivation to conduct large operations, contributing to the reputation of the first settlers in their specific fields.

I cannot leave this subject of Endicott on his farm, without presenting another picture, drawn from a wilderness scene. In 1678, Nathaniel Ingersol, then forty-five years of age, in a deposition sworn to in court, describes an incident that occurred on the east[i.36]ern end of the Townsend Bishop farm as laid out on the map, when he was about eleven years of age. His father, Richard Ingersol, had leased the farm. It was contiguous to Endicott's land, and controversies of boundary arose, which subsequently contributed to aggravate the feuds and passions that were let loose in the fury of the witchcraft proceedings. Nathaniel Ingersol says,—

I can't leave the topic of Endicott on his farm without sharing another story from a wilderness scene. In 1678, Nathaniel Ingersol, then forty-five, described an incident in a court deposition that happened when he was about eleven years old on the eastern side of the Townsend Bishop farm as laid out on the map. His father, Richard Ingersol, had leased the farm. It was next to Endicott's property, which led to boundary disputes that fueled the conflicts and emotions unleashed during the witchcraft trials. Nathaniel Ingersol says,—

"This deponent testifieth, that, when my father had fenced in a parcel of land where the wolf-pits now are, the said Governor Endicott came to my father where we were at plough, and said to my father he had fenced in some of the said Governor's land. My father replied, then he would remove the fence. No, said Governor Endicott, let it stand; and, when you set up a new fence, we will settle in the bounds."

"This witness testifies that when my father had fenced in a piece of land where the wolf pits are now, Governor Endicott came to my father while we were plowing and said he had fenced in some of the Governor's land. My father replied that he would take down the fence. No, said Governor Endicott, let it stay; and when you put up a new fence, we will agree on the boundaries."

This statement is worthy of being preserved, as it illustrates the character of the two men, exhibiting them in a most honorable light. The gentlemanly bearing of each is quite observable. Ingersol manifests an instant willingness to repair a wrong, and set the matter right; Endicott is considerate and obliging on a point where men are most prone to be obstinate and unyielding,—a conflict of land rights: both are courteous, and disposed to accommodate. Endicott was governor of the colony, and a large conterminous landowner; Ingersol was a husbandman, at work with his boys on land into which their labor had incorporated value, and with which, for the time being, he was identified. But Endicott showed no arrogance,[i.37] and assumed no authority; Ingersol manifested no resentment or irritation. If a similar spirit had been everywhere exhibited, the good-will and harmony of neighborhoods would never have been disturbed, and the records of courts reduced to less than half their bulk.

This statement deserves to be kept because it shows the character of the two men in a very honorable way. You can clearly see how gentlemanly each of them is. Ingersol immediately shows a willingness to fix a wrong and make things right, while Endicott is thoughtful and accommodating in a situation where people are usually stubborn and inflexible—a dispute over land rights. Both are polite and willing to compromise. Endicott was the governor of the colony and a large landowner nearby; Ingersol was a farmer, working with his sons on land that their efforts had made valuable, and to which he was deeply connected. But Endicott displayed no arrogance and took no authority; Ingersol showed no anger or irritation. If more people had acted with this kind of spirit, neighborhood goodwill and harmony would never have been disrupted, and court records would be much smaller.

To his dying day, John Endicott retained a lively interest in promoting the welfare of his neighbors in the vicinity of the Orchard Farm.

To the end of his life, John Endicott maintained a strong interest in supporting the well-being of his neighbors around the Orchard Farm.

Father Gabriel Druillettes was sent by the Governor of Canada, in 1650, to Boston, in a diplomatic character, to treat with the Government here. He kept a journal, during his visit, from which the following is an extract: "I went to Salem to speak to the Sieur Indicatt who speaks and understands French well, and is a good friend of the nation, and very desirous to have his children entertain this sentiment. Finding I had no money, he supplied me, and gave me an invitation to the magistrates' table." Endicott had undoubtedly received a good education. His natural force of character had been brought under the influence of the knowledge prevalent in his day, and invigorated by an experience and aptitude in practical affairs. There is some evidence that he had, in early life, been a surgeon or physician.

Father Gabriel Druillettes was sent by the Governor of Canada in 1650 to Boston on a diplomatic mission to talk with the local government. He kept a journal during his visit, and here’s an excerpt: "I went to Salem to speak to the Sieur Indicatt, who speaks and understands French well, is a good friend of the nation, and really wants his children to share this perspective. Noticing that I had no money, he helped me out and invited me to the magistrates' table." Endicott had clearly received a solid education. His strong character had been shaped by the knowledge of his time and strengthened by practical experience and skills. There are indications that he had been a surgeon or physician earlier in life.

He was a captain in the military service before leaving England. Although he was the earliest who bore the title of governor here, having been deputed to exercise that office by the governor and company in England, and subsequently elected to that station[i.38] for a greater length of time than any other person in our history, had been colonel of the Essex militia, commandant of the expedition against the Indians at Block Island, and, for several years, major-general, at the head of the military forces of the colony, the title of captain was attached to him, more or less, from beginning to end; and it is a singular circumstance, that it has adhered to the name to this day. His descendants early manifested a predilection for maritime life. During the first half of the present century, many of them were shipmasters. In our foreign, particularly our East-India, navigation, the title has clung to the name; so much so, that the story is told, that, half a century ago, when American ships arrived at Sumatra or Java, the natives, on approaching or entering the vessels to ascertain the name of the captain, were accustomed to inquire, "Who is the Endicott?" The public station, rank, and influence of Governor Endicott required that he should first be mentioned, in describing the elements that went to form the character of the original agricultural population of this region.

He was a captain in the military before leaving England. Although he was the first to hold the title of governor here, having been appointed to that role by the governor and company in England, and later elected to that position[i.38] for longer than anyone else in our history, he had also been colonel of the Essex militia, leader of the expedition against the Indians at Block Island, and for several years, major-general, heading the military forces of the colony. The title of captain remained associated with him throughout his life, and interestingly, it has stayed attached to his name to this day. His descendants showed an early interest in a life at sea. During the first half of this century, many of them were ship captains. In our overseas trade, especially in our East-India navigation, the title has stuck with the name; so much so that it’s said that, half a century ago, when American ships arrived in Sumatra or Java, the locals, when approaching the ships to ask for the captain's name, would commonly inquire, "Who is the Endicott?" The public position, rank, and influence of Governor Endicott meant that he should be the first mentioned when describing the factors that contributed to the character of the early agricultural population in this region.

The map shows the farm of Emanuel Downing. The lines are substantially correct, although precise accuracy cannot be claimed for them, as the points mentioned in this and other cases were marked trees, heaps of stones, or other perishable or removable objects, and no survey or plot has come down to us. A collation of conterminous grants or subsequent conveyances, with references in some of them to[i.39] permanent objects, enables us to approximate to a pretty certain conclusion. This gentleman was one of the most distinguished of the early New-England colonists. He was a lawyer of the Inner Temple. He married, in the first instance, a daughter of Sir James Ware, a person of great eminence in the learned lore of his times. His second wife was Lucy, sister of Governor Winthrop of Massachusetts, who was born July 9, 1601. They were married, April 10, 1622. There seems to have been a very strong attachment between Emanuel Downing and his brother Winthrop; and they went together, with their whole heart, into the plan of building up the colony. They devoted to it their fortunes and lives. Downing is supposed to have arrived at Boston in August, 1638, with his family. On the 4th of November, he and his wife were admitted to the Church at Salem. So great had been the value of his services in behalf of the colony, in defending its interests and watching over its welfare before leaving England, that he was welcomed with the utmost cordiality to his new home. His nephew, John Winthrop, Jr., afterwards Governor of Connecticut, was associated with John Endicott to administer to him the freeman's oath. The General Court granted him six hundred acres of land. He was immediately appointed a judge of the local court in Salem, and, for many years, elected one of its two deputies to the General Court. In anticipation of his arrival in the country, the town of Salem, on the 16th of July, granted him five hundred acres. He after[i.40]wards purchased the farm on which he seems to have lived, for the most part, until he went to England in 1652. The condition of public affairs, and his own connection with them, detained him in the mother-country much of the latter part of his life. While in this colony, he was indefatigable in his exertions to secure its prosperity. His wealth and time and faculties were liberally and constantly devoted to this end.

The map shows the farm of Emanuel Downing. The lines are mostly correct, although we can’t claim completely accurate details, as the markers mentioned in this and other cases were trees, piles of stones, or other temporary objects, and no survey or plot has survived. By comparing neighboring grants or later transactions, some of which refer to[i.39] permanent objects, we can come to a fairly certain conclusion. This gentleman was one of the most notable early New England colonists. He was a lawyer from the Inner Temple. He first married a daughter of Sir James Ware, a highly respected figure in the academic circles of his time. His second wife was Lucy, the sister of Governor Winthrop of Massachusetts, who was born on July 9, 1601. They married on April 10, 1622. There appears to have been a deep bond between Emanuel Downing and his brother Winthrop; they wholeheartedly embraced the plan to build the colony. They devoted their fortunes and lives to it. Downing is believed to have arrived in Boston in August 1638 with his family. On November 4, he and his wife were admitted to the Church in Salem. His significant contributions to the colony, defending its interests and watching over its welfare before leaving England, led to a warm welcome at his new home. His nephew, John Winthrop, Jr., who later became Governor of Connecticut, partnered with John Endicott to administer the freeman's oath to him. The General Court granted him six hundred acres of land. He was quickly appointed a judge of the local court in Salem and, for many years, was elected as one of its two deputies to the General Court. In anticipation of his arrival, the town of Salem granted him five hundred acres on July 16. He later[i.40] purchased the farm where he seems to have lived for most of his time until he went back to England in 1652. The state of public affairs and his own involvement in them kept him in the mother country for much of the latter part of his life. While in this colony, he tirelessly worked to ensure its prosperity, dedicating his wealth, time, and efforts to this purpose.

The active part taken by Mr. Downing in the affairs of the settlement is illustrated in the following extract from the Salem town records:—

The active role that Mr. Downing played in the settlement's affairs is shown in the following excerpt from the Salem town records:—

"At a general Town meeting, held the 7th day of the 5th month, 1644—ordered that two be appointed every Lord's Day, to walk forth in the time of God's worship, to take notice of such as either lye about the meeting house, without attending to the word and ordinances, or that lye at home or in the fields without giving good account thereof, and to take the names of such persons, and to present them to the magistrates, whereby they may be accordingly proceeded against. The names of such as are ordered to this service are for the 1st day, Mr. Stileman and Philip Veren Jr. 2d day, Philip Veren Sr. and Hilliard Veren. 3d day, Mr. Batter and Joshua Veren. 4th day, Mr. Johnson and Mr. Clark. 5th day, Mr. Downing and Robert Molton Sr. 6th day, Robert Molton Jr. and Richard Ingersol. 7th day, John Ingersol and Richard Pettingell. 8th day, William Haynes and Richard Hutchinson. 9th day, John Putnam and John Hathorne. 10th day, Townsend Bishop and Daniel Rea. 11th day, John Porter and Jacob Barney."

At a general town meeting, held on the 7th day of the 5th month, 1644— it was ordered that two people be appointed every Sunday to walk around during worship time to notice those who either lie around the meeting house without attending to the word and ordinances, or those who stay at home or in the fields without a good reason. They are to take the names of such individuals and present them to the magistrates for appropriate action. The names of those assigned to this service are as follows: 1st day, Mr. Stileman and Philip Veren Jr.; 2nd day, Philip Veren Sr. and Hilliard Veren; 3rd day, Mr. Batter and Joshua Veren; 4th day, Mr. Johnson and Mr. Clark; 5th day, Mr. Downing and Robert Molton Sr.; 6th day, Robert Molton Jr. and Richard Ingersol; 7th day, John Ingersol and Richard Pettingell; 8th day, William Haynes and Richard Hutchinson; 9th day, John Putnam and John Hathorne; 10th day, Townsend Bishop and Daniel Rea; 11th day, John Porter and Jacob Barney.

Each patrol, on concluding its day's service, was to notify the succeeding one; and they were to start on their rounds, severally, from "Goodman Porter's near the Meeting House."

Each patrol, after finishing its day's shift, was to inform the next one; and they were to begin their rounds separately from "Goodman Porter's by the Meeting House."

The men appointed to this service were all leading characters, reliable and energetic persons. It was a singular arrangement, and gives a vivid idea of the state of things at the time. Its design was probably, not merely that expressed in the vote of the town, but also to prevent any disorderly conduct on the part of those not attending public worship, and to give prompt alarm in case of fire or an Indian assault. The population had not then spread out far into the country; and the range of exploration did not much extend beyond the settlement in the town. None but active men, however, could have performed the duty thoroughly, and in all directions, so as to have kept the whole community under strict inspection.

The men appointed to this role were all prominent figures, dependable and energetic individuals. It was a unique arrangement and gives a clear picture of the situation at the time. Its purpose was likely not just what was stated in the town's vote, but also to prevent any trouble from those not attending public worship and to quickly alert everyone in case of a fire or an Indian attack. The population had not yet spread far into the countryside, and the area of exploration didn't extend much beyond the town. However, only active men could have effectively carried out the duties required to keep the entire community under close watch.

Mr. Downing probably expended liberally his fortune and time in improving his farm, upon which there were, at least, four dwelling-houses prior to 1661, and large numbers of men employed. He was a ready contributor to all public objects. His education had been superior and his attainments in knowledge extensive. He was of an enlightened spirit, and strove to mitigate the severity of the procedures against Antinomians and others. He seems to have had an ingenious and enterprising mind. At a General Court held at Boston, Sept. 6, 1638, it was voted that, "Whereas Emanuel Downing, Esq., hath brought[i.42] over, at his great charges, all things fitting for taking wild fowl by way of duck-coy, this court, being desirous to encourage him and others in such designs as tend to the public good," &c., orders that liberty shall be given him to set up his duck-coy within the limits of Salem; and all persons are forbidden to molest him in his experiments, by "shooting in any gun within half a mile of the ponds," where, by the regulations of the town, he shall be allowed to place the decoys. The court afterwards granted to other towns liberty to set up duck-coys, with similar privileges. What was the particular structure of the contrivance, and how far it succeeded in operation, is not known; but the thing shows the spirit of the man. He at once took hold of his farm with energy, and gathered workmen upon it. Winthrop in his journal has this entry, Aug. 2, 1645:—

Mr. Downing likely invested a lot of his money and time into improving his farm, which had at least four houses on it before 1661, and employed many workers. He was always willing to support public initiatives. He had a good education and extensive knowledge. He had an enlightened perspective and tried to ease the harsh treatment against Antinomians and others. He appeared to have a clever and enterprising mind. At a General Court held in Boston on September 6, 1638, it was voted that, "Whereas Emanuel Downing, Esq., has brought[i.42] over, at his great expense, everything needed for catching wild fowl using a duck-coy, this court, eager to encourage him and others in efforts that benefit the public," etc., ordered that he be allowed to set up his duck-coy within the limits of Salem; and everyone was prohibited from disturbing him in his activities by "shooting any gun within half a mile of the ponds," where, according to town regulations, he would be permitted to place the decoys. The court later granted other towns the same permission to establish duck-coys with equivalent rights. The specifics of how the contraption worked and how successful it was are unknown, but it demonstrates the spirit of the man. He quickly took charge of his farm and gathered workers. Winthrop recorded this in his journal on August 2, 1645:—

"Mr. Downing having built a new house at his farm, he being gone to England, and his wife and family gone to the church meeting on the Lord's day, the chimney took fire and burned down the house, and bedding, apparel and household, to the value of 200 pounds."

"Mr. Downing built a new house on his farm. Since he was away in England and his wife and family had gone to church on Sunday, the chimney caught fire and burned down the house along with bedding, clothing, and household items worth 200 pounds."

This proves that his family resided on the farm; and it indicates, that, when he first occupied it, he had only such a house as could have been seasonably put up at the start, but that a more commodious one had been erected at his leisure: the expression "having built a new house" appears to carry this idea. On his return from England, he undoubtedly built again, and[i.43] had other houses for his workmen and tenants; for we find that one of them, in 1648, was allowed to keep an ordinary, "as Mr. Downing's farm, on the road between Lynn and Ipswich, was a convenient place" for such an accommodation to travellers. Public travel to and from those points goes over that same road to-day. That it was so early laid out is probably owing to the fact, that such men as Emanuel Downing were on its route, and John Winthrop, Jr., at Ipswich. Downing called his farm "Groton," in dear remembrance of his wife's ancestral home in "the old country."

This shows that his family lived on the farm, and it suggests that when he first moved in, he only had a basic house built at the time, but later, he constructed a larger one at his convenience. The phrase "having built a new house" seems to imply this idea. When he returned from England, he definitely built again and had other houses for his workers and tenants. We know that in 1648, one of them was allowed to run an inn because "Mr. Downing's farm, on the road between Lynn and Ipswich, was a convenient place" for travelers. The route for public travel to and from those locations still follows that same road today. The fact that it was established so early is likely due to notable figures like Emanuel Downing being along the route, and John Winthrop, Jr., in Ipswich. Downing named his farm "Groton" in loving memory of his wife's ancestral home in "the old country."

Originally, travel was on a track more interior. The opening of roads did not begin until after the more immediate and necessary operations of erecting houses and bringing the land, on the most available spots near them at the points first settled, under culture. Originally, communication from farm to farm, through the woods, was by marking the trees,—sometimes by burning and blackening spots on their sides, and sometimes by cutting off a piece of the bark. The traveller found his way step by step, following the trees thus marked, or "blazed," as it was called whichever method had been adopted. When the branches and brush were sufficiently cleared away, horses could be used. At places rendered difficult by large roots, partly above ground, intercepting the passage, or by rough stones, the rider would dismount, and lead the horse. From this, it was called a "bridle-path." After the way had become sufficiently opened for ox-carts or other vehicles to pass, it would begin to receive the name of a[i.44] road. On reaching a cleared and fenced piece of land, the traveller would cross it, opening and closing gates, or taking down and replacing bars, as the case might be. There were arrangements among the settlers, and, before long, acts of the General Court, regulating the matter. This was the origin of what were called "press-roads," or "farm-roads," or "gate-roads." When a proprietor concluded it to be for his interest to do so, he would fence in the road on both sides where it crossed his land, and remove the gates or bars from each end. Ultimately, the road, if convenient for long travel, would be fenced in for a great distance, and become a permanent "public highway." In all these stages of progress, it would be called a "highway." The fee would remain with the several proprietors through whose lands it passed; and, if travel should forsake it for a more eligible route, it would be discontinued, and the road-track, enclosed in the fields to which it originally belonged, be obliterated by the plough. Many of the "highways," by which the farmers passed over each other's lands to get to the meeting-house or out to public roads, in 1692, have thus disappeared, while some have hardened into permanent public roads used to this day. When thus fully and finally established, it became a "town road," and if leading some distance into the interior, and through other towns, was called a "country road." The early name of "path" continued some time in use long after it had got to be worthy of a more pretentious title. The old "Boston Path," by which the country was originally[i.45] penetrated, long retained that name. It ran through the southern and western part of Salem Village by the Gardners, Popes, Goodales, Flints, Needhams, Swinnertons, Houltons, and so on towards Ipswich and Newbury.

Originally, travel was more about getting around locally. Roads didn’t really start to open up until after the immediate need to build houses and cultivate the best land near those first settlements. At first, farmers communicated with each other through the woods by marking trees—sometimes by burning or blackening spots on them, and sometimes by cutting back bark. Travelers made their way step by step by following these marked trees, called “blazed” paths depending on the method used. Once the branches and brush were cleared, horses could be used. When faced with large roots sticking up or rough stones blocking the way, riders would dismount and lead their horses. This led to the term “bridle-path.” After the path was cleared enough for ox-carts or other vehicles, it would start being called a[i.44] road. Upon reaching a cleared and fenced area, travelers would cross it, opening and closing gates or putting up and taking down bars as needed. Settlers made arrangements among themselves, and eventually there were acts from the General Court to regulate this. This was the origin of what were known as “press-roads,” “farm-roads,” or “gate-roads.” If a landowner thought it was in their interest, they would fence in the road on both sides where it crossed their property and remove the gates or bars at each end. Eventually, if it was convenient for long travel, the road would be fenced in for a long distance and become a permanent “public highway.” Throughout all these stages, it would be referred to as a “highway.” The fee would stay with the various landowners it ran through, and if traffic shifted to a better route, it would be discontinued, and the road would be reclaimed by the plow, disappearing back into the fields it belonged to. Many of the "highways" that farmers used to cross each other's land to reach the meeting house or public roads in 1692 have vanished, while some have turned into permanent public roads we use today. Once fully established, it became a "town road," and if it led a good distance into the countryside and through other towns, it was called a "country road." The early term "path" was still used for a while before more impressive titles were adopted. The old "Boston Path," which was the initial route into the countryside, kept that name for a long time. It ran through the southern and western parts of Salem Village by the Gardners, Popes, Goodales, Flints, Needhams, Swinnertons, Houltons, and so on towards Ipswich and Newbury.

On the 30th of September, 1648, Governor Winthrop, writing to his son John, says "they are well at Salem, and your uncle is now beginning to distil. Mr. Endicott hath found a copper mine in his own ground. Mr. Leader hath tried it. The furnace runs eight tons per week, and their bar iron is as good as Spanish." Whatever may be thought by some of the logic which infers that "all is well" in Salem, because they are beginning "to distil;" and however little has, as yet, resulted here from the discovery of copper-mines, or the manufacture of iron, the foregoing extract shows the zeal and enthusiasm with which the wealthier settlers were applying themselves to the development of the capabilities of the country.

On September 30, 1648, Governor Winthrop wrote to his son John, saying, "They are doing well in Salem, and your uncle is starting to distill. Mr. Endicott has discovered a copper mine on his property. Mr. Leader has tested it. The furnace produces eight tons per week, and their bar iron is as good as Spanish." No matter what some might think about the logic that assumes "all is well" in Salem just because they’re beginning to "distill," and regardless of how little has come from the discovery of copper mines or iron manufacturing so far, this quote shows the energy and enthusiasm with which the wealthier settlers were working to develop the potential of the land.

Mr. Downing seems to have resided permanently on his farm, and to have been identified with the agricultural portion of the community. His house-lot in the town bounded south on Essex Street, extending from Newbury to St. Peter's Street. He may not, perhaps, have built upon it for some time, as it long continued to be called "Downing's Field." Two of his daughters married sons of Thomas Gardner: Mary married Samuel; and Ann, Joseph. They came into possession of the "Downing Field." Mary was the mother of John, the progenitor of a large branch of[i.46] the Gardner family. Mr. Downing had another large lot in the town, which, on the 11th of February, 1641, was sold to John Pickering, described in the deed as follows: "All that parcel of ground, lying before the now dwelling-house of the said John Pickering, late in the occupation of John Endicott, Esq., with all the appurtenances thereunto belonging, abutting on the east and south on the river commonly called the South River, and on the west on the land of William Hathorne, and on the north on the Town Common." The deed is signed by Lucy Downing, and by Edmund Batter, acting for her husband in his absence. On the 10th of February, 1644, he indorsed the transaction as follows: "I do freely agree to the sale of the said Field in Salem, made by my wife to John Pickering: witness my hand," &c. The attesting witnesses were Samuel Sharpe and William Hathorne. This land was then called "Broad Field." On his estate, thus enlarged, Pickering, a few years afterwards, built a house, still standing. The estate has remained, or rather so much of it as was attached to the homestead, in that family to this day, and is now owned and occupied by John Pickering, Esq., son of the eminent scholar and philologist of that name, and grandson of Colonel Timothy Pickering, of Revolutionary fame,—the trusted friend of Washington.

Mr. Downing seemed to have lived permanently on his farm and was a part of the farming community. His property in the town bordered Essex Street to the south, stretching from Newbury to St. Peter's Street. He might not have developed it for a while, as it continued to be referred to as "Downing's Field" for a long time. Two of his daughters married Thomas Gardner's sons: Mary married Samuel, and Ann married Joseph. They took over "Downing's Field." Mary was the mother of John, who started a large branch of the Gardner family. Mr. Downing owned another large piece of land in town, which he sold to John Pickering on February 11, 1641. The deed describes it as: "All that parcel of ground, lying before the now dwelling-house of the said John Pickering, late in the occupation of John Endicott, Esq., with all the appurtenances thereunto belonging, abutting on the east and south on the river commonly called the South River, and on the west on the land of William Hathorne, and on the north on the Town Common." The deed is signed by Lucy Downing and by Edmund Batter, who acted on her husband's behalf during his absence. On February 10, 1644, he endorsed the sale with this note: "I do freely agree to the sale of the said Field in Salem, made by my wife to John Pickering: witness my hand," etc. The witnesses to this were Samuel Sharpe and William Hathorne. This land was then known as "Broad Field." Pickering built a house on this expanded property a few years later, which still stands today. The estate has remained in that family, or at least the part attached to the homestead, up to the present day and is currently owned and occupied by John Pickering, Esq., the son of the renowned scholar and philologist of the same name, and grandson of Colonel Timothy Pickering, who was famous during the Revolutionary War and was a trusted friend of Washington.

Emanuel Downing was the father of Sir George Downing, one of the first class that graduated at Harvard College,—a man of extraordinary talents and wonderful fortunes. After finishing his collegiate[i.47] course, in 1642, he studied divinity, probably under the direction of Hugh Peters; went to the West Indies, acting as chaplain in the vessel; preached and received calls to settle in several places; went on to England; entered the parliamentary service as chaplain to a regiment; was rapidly drawn into notice, and promoted from point to point, until he became scoutmaster-general in Cromwell's army. This office seems to have combined the functions of inspector and commissary-general, and head of the reconnoitering department. In 1654, he was married to Frances, sister of Viscount Morpeth, afterwards Earl of Carlisle; thus uniting himself with "the blood of all the Howards," one of the noblest families in England. The nuptials were celebrated with great pomp, an epithalamium in Latin, &c. All this, within eleven years after he took his degree at Harvard, is surely an extraordinary instance of rising in the world. He was a member of Parliament for Scotland. Cromwell sent him to France on diplomatic business, and his correspondence in Latin from that court was the beginning of a career of great services in that line. He was soon commissioned ambassador to the Hague, then the great court in Europe. Thurlow's state papers show with what marvellous vigilance, activity, and efficiency he conducted, from that centre, the diplomatic affairs of the commonwealth. At the restoration of the monarchy, he made the quickest and the loftiest somersault in all political history. It was done between two days. He saw Charles the Second at the Hague, on his way to England to re[i.48]sume his crown: and the man who, up to that moment, had been one of the most zealous supporters of the commonwealth, came out next morning as an equally zealous supporter of the king. He accompanied this wonderful exploit by an act of treachery to three of his old associates,—including Colonel Oakey, in whose regiment he had served as chaplain,—which cost them their lives. He was forthwith knighted, and his commission as ambassador renewed. After a while, he returned to England; went into Parliament from Morpeth, and ever after the exchequer was in his hands. By his knowledge, skill, and ability, he enlarged the financial resources of the country, multiplied its manufactures, and extended its power and wealth. He was probably the original contriver of the policy enforced in the celebrated Navigation Act, having suggested it in Cromwell's time. By that single short act of Parliament, England became the great naval power of the world; her colonial possessions, however widely dispersed, were consolidated into one vast fountain of wealth to the imperial realm; the empire of the seas was fixed on an immovable basis, and the proud Hollander compelled to take down the besom from the mast-head of his high-admiral.

Emanuel Downing was the father of Sir George Downing, one of the first students to graduate from Harvard College—a man of exceptional talents and remarkable fortune. After completing his college course in 1642, he studied theology, likely under Hugh Peters; he went to the West Indies, serving as chaplain on a ship; he preached and received offers to settle in various places; then he traveled to England, where he worked as a chaplain in a regiment during the parliamentary service. He quickly gained attention and was promoted until he became scoutmaster-general in Cromwell's army. This role seemed to combine the duties of an inspector and commissary-general, as well as head of the reconnaissance department. In 1654, he married Frances, sister of Viscount Morpeth, later the Earl of Carlisle; thus linking himself to “the blood of all the Howards,” one of the most prestigious families in England. The wedding was celebrated with great fanfare, including a Latin epithalamium, etc. All this occurred within eleven years after he earned his degree from Harvard, which is certainly an impressive example of rising through the ranks. He served as a member of Parliament for Scotland. Cromwell sent him to France on diplomatic missions, and his correspondence in Latin from that court marked the start of a significant career in that field. He was soon appointed ambassador to the Hague, then the foremost court in Europe. Thurlow's state papers reveal how remarkably vigilant, active, and efficient he was in handling the diplomatic affairs of the commonwealth from that center. When the monarchy was restored, he made the quickest and most dramatic shift in all of political history. It happened in just two days. He met Charles the Second at the Hague, on his way to England to reclaim his crown: and the man who, until that moment, had been one of the most passionate supporters of the commonwealth, emerged the next morning as an equally passionate supporter of the king. This remarkable turnaround was accompanied by an act of betrayal against three of his former associates—including Colonel Oakey, in whose regiment he had served as chaplain—resulting in their executions. He was immediately knighted, and his ambassadorial commission was renewed. After some time, he returned to England, entered Parliament from Morpeth, and thereafter the treasury was in his hands. Through his knowledge, skill, and capability, he expanded the nation's financial resources, increased its manufacturing, and enhanced its power and wealth. He was likely the original architect of the policy enforced in the famous Navigation Act, having proposed it during Cromwell's time. With that single, brief act of Parliament, England emerged as the world's leading naval power; her colonial holdings, no matter how far-flung, were unified into a vast source of wealth for the imperial realm; the empire of the seas was established on a solid foundation, and the proud Dutch were forced to take down the broom from the masthead of their high-admiral.

Sir George Downing did one thing in favor of the power of the people, in the British system of government, which may mitigate the resentment of mankind for his execrable seizure and delivery to the royal vengeance of Oakey, Corbett, and Barkstead. He introduced into Parliament and established the prin[i.49]ciple of Specific Appropriations. The House of Commons has, ever since, not only held the keys of the treasury, but the power of controlling expenditures. The fortune of Sir George, on the failure of issue in the third generation, went to the foundation of Downing College, in Cambridge, England. It amounted to one hundred and fifty thousand pounds sterling. It is not improbable, that Downing Street, in London, owes its name to the great diplomatist.

Sir George Downing did one important thing for the power of the people in the British government, which might ease some of the anger people have towards him for his terrible actions in handing over Oakey, Corbett, and Barkstead to royal punishment. He introduced and established the principle of Specific Appropriations in Parliament. Since then, the House of Commons has not only controlled the treasury but also the authority to manage spending. When Sir George's line failed after the third generation, his fortune was used to establish Downing College in Cambridge, England. It amounted to one hundred and fifty thousand pounds. It’s quite possible that Downing Street in London is named after this influential diplomat.

This remarkable man spent his later youth and opening manhood on Salem Farms. In his college vacations and intervals of study, he partook, perhaps, in the labors of the plantation, mingled with the rural population, and shared in their sports. The crack of his fowling-piece re-echoed through the wild woods beyond Procter's Corner; he tended his father's duck-coys at Humphries' Pond, and angled along the clear brooks. It is an observable circumstance, as illustrating the transmission of family traits, that the same ingenious activity and versatility of mind, which led Emanuel Downing, while carrying on the multifarious operations of opening a large farm in the forest, presiding in the local court at Salem, and serving year after year in the General Court as a deputy, to contrive complicated machinery for taking wild fowl and getting up distilleries, re-appeared in his son, on the broader field of the manufactures, finances, and foreign relations of a great nation.

This remarkable man spent his later teens and early adulthood on Salem Farms. During his college breaks and study periods, he engaged in the work on the plantation, interacted with the local community, and participated in their activities. The sound of his shotgun echoed through the wild woods near Procter's Corner; he looked after his father's duck decoys at Humphries' Pond and fished in the clear streams. It's interesting to note that the same cleverness and versatility that allowed Emanuel Downing to manage the diverse tasks of running a large farm in the woods, preside over the local court in Salem, and serve year after year in the General Court as a deputy—while also inventing complicated devices for hunting wild fowl and setting up distilleries—was evident in his son, who applied these skills on a much larger scale in the realms of manufacturing, finance, and foreign relations of a great nation.

A tract of three hundred acres, next eastward of the Downing farm, was granted to Thomas Read. He[i.50] became a freeman in 1634, was a member of the Salem Church in 1636, received his grant the same year, and was acknowledged as an inhabitant, May 2, 1637. The farm is now occupied and owned by the Hon. Richard S. Rogers. It is a beautiful and commanding situation, and attests the taste of its original proprietor. Mr. Read seems to have had a passion for military affairs. In 1636, he was ensign in a regiment composed of men from Saugus, Ipswich, Newbury, and Salem, of which John Endicott was colonel, and John Winthrop, Jr., lieutenant-colonel. In 1647, he commanded a company. During the civil wars in England, he was attracted back to his native country. He commanded a regiment in 1660, and held his place after the Restoration. He died about 1663.

A tract of three hundred acres, just east of the Downing farm, was granted to Thomas Read. He[i.50] became a freeman in 1634, was a member of the Salem Church in 1636, received his grant that same year, and was recognized as a resident on May 2, 1637. The farm is currently owned and occupied by Hon. Richard S. Rogers. It’s a beautiful and prominent location, reflecting the taste of its original owner. Mr. Read seemed to have a strong interest in military matters. In 1636, he was an ensign in a regiment made up of men from Saugus, Ipswich, Newbury, and Salem, led by Colonel John Endicott and Lieutenant-Colonel John Winthrop, Jr. By 1647, he was in command of a company. During the civil wars in England, he was drawn back to his homeland. In 1660, he led a regiment and kept his position after the Restoration. He passed away around 1663.

Our antiquarians were long at a loss to understand a sentence in one of Roger Williams's letters to John Winthrop, Jr., in which he says, "Sir, you were not long since the son of two noble fathers, Mr. John Winthrop and Mr. Hugh Peters." How John Winthrop, Jr., could be a son of Hugh Peters was the puzzle. Peters was not the father of either of Winthrop's two wives; and there was nothing in any family records or memorials to justify the notion. On the contrary, they absolutely precluded it. By the labors and acumen of the Hon. James Savage and Mr. Charles Deane, of Cambridge, who have no superiors in grappling with such a difficulty, its solution seems, at last, to be reached. "After long fruitless search," Mr. Savage has expressed a conviction that Mr. Deane has "ac[i.51]quired the probable explication." The clue was thus obtained: Mr. Savage says, "This approach to explanation is gained from 'the Life and Death of Hugh Peters, by William Yonge, Dr. Med. London. 1663,' a very curious and more scarce tract." The facts discovered are that Peters taught a free school at Maldon, in Essex; and that a widow lady with children and an estate of two or three hundred pounds a year befriended him. She was known as "Mistress Read." Peters married her. The second wife of John Winthrop, Jr., was Elizabeth, daughter of Colonel Read, of Essex. By marrying Mrs. Read, Peters became the step-father of the younger Winthrop's wife; and, by the usage of that day, he would be called Winthrop's father.

Our historians have struggled for a long time to make sense of a line in one of Roger Williams's letters to John Winthrop, Jr., where he states, "Sir, you were not long ago the son of two noble fathers, Mr. John Winthrop and Mr. Hugh Peters." The mystery was how John Winthrop, Jr. could be a son of Hugh Peters, since Peters was not the father of either of Winthrop's two wives, and there was nothing in any family records or memorials to support that idea. In fact, the records completely ruled it out. Thanks to the efforts and insight of the Hon. James Savage and Mr. Charles Deane from Cambridge, who are unmatched in tackling such intricacies, it seems we have finally reached a solution. "After a long and fruitless search," Mr. Savage has expressed confidence that Mr. Deane has "acquired the probable explanation." The clue was found: Mr. Savage mentions, "This approach to explanation is derived from 'the Life and Death of Hugh Peters, by William Yonge, Dr. Med. London. 1663,' a very interesting and rarer work." The facts revealed are that Peters ran a free school in Maldon, Essex; and a widow with children and an estate worth two or three hundred pounds a year helped him. She was known as "Mistress Read." Peters married her. The second wife of John Winthrop, Jr. was Elizabeth, the daughter of Colonel Read from Essex. By marrying Mrs. Read, Peters became the stepfather of Winthrop's wife; and by the customs of that time, he would have been referred to as Winthrop's father.

A few additional particulars, in reference to Peters and our Salem Read, may shed further light on the subject. While a prisoner in the Tower of London, awaiting the trial which, in a few short days, consigned him to his fate, Peters wrote "A Dying Father's Last Legacy to an only Child," and delivered it to his daughter just before his execution. This is one of the most admirable productions of genius, wisdom, and affection, anywhere to be found. In it he gives a condensed history of his life, which enables us to settle some questions, which have given rise to conflicting statements, and kept some points in his biography in obscurity. In the first place, the title proves that he had, at the time of his death, no other child. In the course of it, he tells his daughter, that, when he was[i.52] fourteen years of age, his mother, then a widow, removed with him to Cambridge, and connected him with the University there. His elder brother had been sent to Oxford for his education. After residing eight years in Cambridge, he took his Master's degree, and then went up to London, where he was "struck with the sense of his sinful estate by a sermon he heard under Paul's, which was about forty years since, which text was the burden of Dumah or Idumea, and stuck fast. This made me to go into Essex; and after being quieted by another sermon in that country, and the love and labors of Mr. Thomas Hooker, I there preached, there married with a good gentlewoman, till I went to London to ripen my studies, not intending to preach at all." He then relates the circumstances which subsequently led him again to engage in preaching. He is stated to have been born in 1599: his death was in 1660. Putting together these dates and facts, it becomes evident that he could not have been more than twenty-two years of age when he married "Mistress Read." The "Last Legacy" shows, not merely in the manner in which he speaks of her,—"a good gentlewoman,"—but, in its express terms, that she was not the mother of the "only child" to whom it was addressed. "Besides your mother," he states that he had had "a godly wife before." There is no indication that there were children by the earlier marriage. If there were, they died young. He married, for his second wife, Deliverance Sheffield, at Boston, in March, 1639.[i.53]

A few more details about Peters and our Salem Read might clarify things. While he was a prisoner in the Tower of London, waiting for a trial that would soon seal his fate, Peters wrote "A Dying Father's Last Legacy to an Only Child," which he gave to his daughter just before his execution. This piece is one of the most impressive displays of genius, wisdom, and love you'll find. In it, he provides a brief history of his life that helps settle some questions that have sparked conflicting stories, keeping some parts of his biography unclear. First, the title shows that he had no other children at the time of his death. He tells his daughter that when he was fourteen, his mother, then a widow, moved with him to Cambridge and connected him with the University there. His older brother had been sent to Oxford for his education. After living in Cambridge for eight years, he earned his Master's degree and then went to London, where he was “struck by the awareness of his sinful state from a sermon he heard at St. Paul's about forty years ago, which was based on the text about the burden of Dumah or Idumea, and it stuck with me. This led me to go to Essex; after being calmed by another sermon there and the care and efforts of Mr. Thomas Hooker, I preached there and married a good woman until I went to London to further my studies, not planning to preach at all.” He then shares the events that led him back to preaching. He is believed to have been born in 1599 and died in 1660. Considering these dates and details, it’s clear he couldn't have been more than twenty-two when he married “Mistress Read.” The “Last Legacy” indicates, not only through how he refers to her as “a good gentlewoman,” but also in explicit terms, that she was not the mother of the “only child” addressed. He mentions that besides your mother, he had “a godly wife before.” There’s no sign of any children from that first marriage. If there were, they likely died young. He married his second wife, Deliverance Sheffield, in Boston in March 1639.[i.53]

His first wife, the time of whose death is unknown, had left the children by her former husband in his hands and under his care. He evidently cherished the memory of the "good gentlewoman of Essex" with the tenderest and most sacred affection. She had not only been the dear wife of his youth, but her property placed him above want. No wonder that the strongest attachment existed between him and her children. John Winthrop, Jr., and his wife, called him father, not merely in conformity with custom, being their step-father in point of fact, but with the fondness and devotion of actual children. It was on account of this intimate and endeared connection, and in consideration of the pecuniary benefit he had derived from his marriage to the mother of the younger Winthrop's wife, that he made arrangements, in case he should not return to America, that his Salem property should go to her and her husband. Having married a second wife, and there being issue of said marriage, he would not have alienated so considerable a part of his property from the legal heir without some good and sufficient reason. The foregoing view of the case explains the whole. The solution of the mystery which had enveloped Roger Williams's language is complete. Elizabeth, the daughter of the second marriage, to whom the "Last Legacy" was addressed, was baptized in the First Church at Salem, on the 8th of March, 1640. It does not appear, that, during her subsequent life, there was any intimacy, or even acquaintance, between her and the[i.54] Winthrops, as there was no ground for it, she being in no way connected with them.

His first wife, whose date of death is unknown, left her children from a previous marriage in his care. He clearly held the memory of the "good gentlewoman of Essex" in the highest affection. Not only was she the beloved wife of his youth, but her property also ensured he wasn't in need. It's no surprise that he felt a strong bond with her children. John Winthrop, Jr., and his wife called him father, not just out of tradition since he was their stepfather, but with genuine love and devotion like that of true children. Because of this close and cherished relationship, and considering the financial benefits he gained from marrying the mother of the younger Winthrop's wife, he made arrangements, in case he didn't return to America, for his property in Salem to go to her and her husband. After marrying a second time and having children with her, he wouldn't have transferred such a significant portion of his estate away from the legal heir without a compelling reason. This perspective clarifies everything. The mystery surrounding Roger Williams's comments is resolved. Elizabeth, the daughter from the second marriage, to whom the "Last Legacy" was addressed, was baptized at the First Church in Salem on March 8, 1640. It appears that throughout her life, she had no close relationship or even acquaintance with the Winthrops, as there was no reason for it, given that she had no connection to them.

May not Thomas Read, of Salem, have been a son of Colonel Read, of Maldon in Essex, and a brother of the wife of the younger Winthrop? Peters says, in the "Last Legacy," "Many of my acquaintances, going for New England, had engaged me to come to them when they sent, which accordingly I did." Thomas Read came over some time before him; so did John Winthrop, Jr., and wife. They were the same as children to him. They sent for him, and he came. After it was ascertained and determined that Peters should settle in Salem, Read joined the church here, and became a full inhabitant. Peters located his grant of land in sight of Read's residence, on the next then unappropriated territory, at a distance of about two and a half miles. When Read returned to England, he left his property here in the care of the Winthrops. Wait Winthrop, as the agent and attorney of his heirs, sold it to Daniel Eppes. If, as I conjecture, Thomas Read was a son of Colonel Read, of Essex, his coming here with Peters, and his connection with the Winthrops, are accounted for. His strong predilection for military affairs was natural in a son of a colonel of the English army. It led him back to the mother-country, on the first sound of the great civil war reaching these shores, and raised him to the rank he finally attained. The conjecture that he was a brother of the wife of the younger Winthrop is favored by the fact, that her son, Fitz John Win[i.55]throp, was a captain in Read's regiment, at the time of the restoration of the Stuarts.

Could Thomas Read from Salem have been the son of Colonel Read from Maldon in Essex, and the brother-in-law of the younger Winthrop? Peters mentions in the "Last Legacy," "Many of my acquaintances who were heading to New England asked me to join them when they sent for me, which I did." Thomas Read arrived some time before him, along with John Winthrop, Jr., and his wife. They were like siblings to him. They sent for him, and he came. Once it was confirmed that Peters would settle in Salem, Read joined the church there and became a full resident. Peters chose his land grant near Read’s home, about two and a half miles away in then-unclaimed territory. When Read returned to England, he entrusted his property to the Winthrops. Wait Winthrop, acting as the agent for his heirs, sold it to Daniel Eppes. If, as I suspect, Thomas Read was indeed the son of Colonel Read from Essex, his arrival with Peters and his ties to the Winthrops make sense. His strong interest in military matters was natural for the son of an English army colonel. This interest brought him back to England when news of the civil war reached these shores and helped elevate him to the rank he ultimately achieved. The idea that he was a brother of the younger Winthrop’s wife is supported by the fact that her son, Fitz John Winthrop, was a captain in Read's regiment during the restoration of the Stuarts.

During the short period of the residence of Hugh Peters in America, professional duties, and the extent to which his great talents were called upon in ecclesiastical and political affairs, in all parts of the colony, left him but little opportunity to attend to his two-hundred-acre grant. It was to the north of the present village of Danvers Plains, on the eastern side and adjoining to Frost-Fish Brook. The history of this grant confirms the supposition of his particular connection with the family of the younger Winthrop. It seems that it had not been formally laid out by metes and bounds while Peters was here. Owing to this circumstance, perhaps, it escaped confiscation at the time of his condemnation and execution. Some years afterwards, June 4, 1674, a committee of the town laid out the grant "to Mr. Peters." The record of this transaction says, "The land is in the possession of John Corwin." Captain John Corwin had married, in May, 1665, Margaret, daughter of John Winthrop, Jr. She survived her husband, and sold the same land, May 22, 1693, to "Henry Brown, Jr., of Salisbury, yeoman." These facts show that this portion of Mr. Peters's lands did go, according to the agreement when he left America, to the family of John Winthrop, Jr.

During Hugh Peters' brief time in America, his professional responsibilities and the demand for his considerable talents in church and political matters throughout the colony left him with little chance to manage his two-hundred-acre land grant. This land was located north of what is now Danvers Plains, on the eastern side next to Frost-Fish Brook. The history of this grant supports the idea of his close ties to the family of the younger Winthrop. It appears that the land had not been formally surveyed while Peters was present. This might explain why it avoided confiscation during his trial and execution. Years later, on June 4, 1674, a town committee formally laid out the grant "to Mr. Peters." The record of this event notes, "The land is in the possession of John Corwin." Captain John Corwin married Margaret, the daughter of John Winthrop, Jr., in May 1665. She outlived her husband and sold the same land on May 22, 1693, to "Henry Brown, Jr., of Salisbury, yeoman." These details indicate that this part of Mr. Peters's land did indeed go, as per the agreement upon his departure from America, to the family of John Winthrop, Jr.

Whether he had erected a house on this grant is not known. From his characteristic energy, activity, and promptitude, it is probable that he had begun to clear[i.56] it. In agriculture, as in every thing else, he gave a decisive impulse. It is stated that he had a particular design to attempt the culture of hemp. He introduced many implements of labor, and started new methods of improvement. He disclosed to the producer of agricultural growths the idea of raising what the land was most capable of yielding in abundance, in greater quantities than were needed for local consumption, and finding for the surplus an outside market. He is allowed to have introduced the coasting and foreign trade on an intelligent and organized basis, and to have promoted ship-building and the export of the products of the forests and the fields generally to the Southern plantations, the West Indies, and even more distant points. If he had remained longer in the country, the farming interests, and the settlers in what was afterwards called Salem Village, within which his tract was situated, would have felt his great influence. As it was, he undoubtedly did much to inspire a zeal for improvement. His town residence was on the south-western corner of Essex and Washington Street, then known as "Salem Corner," where the office of the Horse-railroad Company now is. The lot was a quarter of an acre. Roger Williams probably had resided there, and sold to Peters, who was his successor in the ministry of the First Church, and whose attorney sold it to Benjamin Felton, in 1659. The range of ground included within what are now Washington, Essex, Summer, and Chestnut Streets, and extending to the South River, as it was before any[i.57] dam or mills had been erected over or across it, was a beautiful swell of land, with sloping surfaces, intersected by a creek from near the foot of Chestnut Street to its junction with the South River under the present grade of Mill Street. To the south of the corner, occupied successively by Roger Williams and Hugh Peters, Ralph Fogg, the Lady Deborah Moody, George Corwin, Dr. George Emory, Thomas Ruck, Samuel Skelton, Endicott, Pickering, Downing, and Hathorne, each had lots, extending in order to the foot of what is now Phelps Street. Most, if not all of them, had houses on their lots. Elder Sharp had what was called "Sharp's Field," bordering on the north side of Essex Street, extending from Washington to North Streets. His house was at the north corner of Lynde and Washington Streets. Edmund Batter, Henry Cook, Dr. Daniel Weld, Stephen Sewall, and Edward Norris, were afterwards on his land. Hugh Peters also owned the lot, consisting of a quarter of an acre, on the north-eastern corner of Essex and Washington Streets, now occupied by what is known as Stearns's Building, and was preparing to erect a house upon it when he was sent to England. His attorney sold it, in 1652, to John Orne, the founder of the family of that name.

Whether he built a house on this land is unknown. Given his typical energy, activity, and quickness, it's likely he started to clear[i.56] it. In agriculture, as in everything else, he made a strong impact. It's said he had a specific plan to try growing hemp. He introduced many farming tools and initiated new methods for improvement. He helped farmers understand the idea of growing what the land could produce abundantly, in larger amounts than needed for local use, and finding an external market for the excess. He is credited with establishing coasting and foreign trade in a smart, organized way and with promoting shipbuilding and the export of products from the forests and fields to the Southern plantations, the West Indies, and even farther away. If he had stayed longer in the area, the farming community and the settlers in what later became Salem Village, where his land was located, would have felt his significant influence. As it was, he certainly inspired a passion for improvement. His town residence was at the southwestern corner of Essex and Washington Street, then known as "Salem Corner," where the Horse-railroad Company office is now located. The lot was a quarter of an acre. Roger Williams likely lived there and sold it to Peters, who succeeded him as the minister of the First Church, and whose lawyer sold it to Benjamin Felton in 1659. The area now covered by Washington, Essex, Summer, and Chestnut Streets, extending to the South River, before any[i.57] dam or mills were built over it, was a beautiful piece of land with sloping surfaces, crossed by a creek from near the foot of Chestnut Street to its junction with the South River beneath what is now Mill Street. To the south of the corner, successively occupied by Roger Williams and Hugh Peters, Ralph Fogg, Lady Deborah Moody, George Corwin, Dr. George Emory, Thomas Ruck, Samuel Skelton, Endicott, Pickering, Downing, and Hathorne each had lots, extending down to the foot of what is now Phelps Street. Most, if not all, had houses on their lots. Elder Sharp owned what was known as "Sharp's Field," bordering the north side of Essex Street, stretching from Washington to North Streets. His house was at the northwest corner of Lynde and Washington Streets. Edmund Batter, Henry Cook, Dr. Daniel Weld, Stephen Sewall, and Edward Norris later settled on his land. Hugh Peters also owned the lot, a quarter of an acre, at the northeastern corner of Essex and Washington Streets, now occupied by Stearns's Building, and was preparing to build a house there when he was sent to England. His lawyer sold it, in 1652, to John Orne, the founder of that family name.

The daughter of Mr. Peters came over to America shortly after his death, bringing with her her mother, who, for many years, had been subject to derangement. They were kindly received; and some of his property, particularly a valuable farm in the vicinity[i.58] of Marblehead, which the daughter sold to the American ancestor of the Devereux family, was recovered from the effect of his attainder. She probably soon went back to England, where she spent her days. Papers on file in the county court show that Elizabeth Barker, widow, "daughter of Mr. Hugh Peters," was living, in March, 1702, in good health, at Deptford, Kent, in the immediate vicinity of London, and had been living there for about forty years.

The daughter of Mr. Peters came to America shortly after his death, bringing along her mother, who had been experiencing mental health issues for many years. They were warmly welcomed, and some of his property, especially a valuable farm near Marblehead[i.58] that the daughter sold to the American ancestor of the Devereux family, was recovered from the consequences of his legal troubles. She probably returned to England soon after, where she spent the rest of her life. Documents in the county court indicate that Elizabeth Barker, widow, "daughter of Mr. Hugh Peters," was living in good health in March 1702 at Deptford, Kent, near London, and had been there for about forty years.

In consequence, perhaps, of the intimate connection between Mr. Peters and the family of John Winthrop, Jr., the name of the latter is to be added to the cluster of eminent men who, at that time, were drawn to reside in Salem. He was here, it is quite certain, from 1638 to 1641, if not for a longer period. There are indications of his presence as early as March of the former year, when he was appointed with Endicott to administer the freeman's oath to his uncle Downing. On the 25th of the next June, he had liberty to set up a salt-house at Royal Neck, on the east side of Wooleston River. There he erected a dwelling-house and other buildings, as appears by the depositions of sundry persons in a land suit about thirty years afterwards, who state that they worked for him, and were conversant with him there for several years. His first experiments and enterprises in the salt-manufacture, which he subsequently conducted on a very extensive scale in Connecticut, were performed at Royal Neck. His daughter, the widow successively of Antipas Newman and Zerubabel Endicott, in the suit just men[i.59]tioned, recovered possession of that property, comprising forty acres, with the buildings and improvements. In 1646, John Winthrop, Jr., accompanied by a brother of Hugh Peters, Rev. Thomas Peters from Cornwall in England, began a plantation at Pequot River; and Trumbull, in his "History of Connecticut," says that "Mr. Thomas Peters was the first minister of Saybrook." The fortunes and families of Hugh Peters and John Winthrop, Jr., seem all along to have been linked together.

As a result, possibly due to the close relationship between Mr. Peters and the family of John Winthrop, Jr., the latter's name can be added to the notable figures who were living in Salem at that time. He certainly lived there from 1638 to 1641, if not longer. Evidence of his presence dates back to March of 1638, when he was appointed, along with Endicott, to administer the freeman's oath to his uncle Downing. On June 25 of the following year, he received permission to set up a salt house at Royal Neck, on the east side of Wooleston River. There, he built a house and other structures, as shown by the testimonies of several people involved in a land dispute about thirty years later, who stated that they worked for him and had interactions with him there for several years. His initial experiments and ventures in salt manufacturing, which he later expanded significantly in Connecticut, were conducted at Royal Neck. His daughter, who was the widow of both Antipas Newman and Zerubabel Endicott, regained ownership of that property—consisting of forty acres, along with the buildings and improvements—during the aforementioned lawsuit. In 1646, John Winthrop, Jr. and Rev. Thomas Peters, a brother of Hugh Peters who came from Cornwall, England, started a plantation at Pequot River; Trumbull mentions in his "History of Connecticut" that "Mr. Thomas Peters was the first minister of Saybrook." The fortunes and families of Hugh Peters and John Winthrop, Jr. seem to have always been intertwined.

Downing, Read, and Peters, three of the original planters of Salem Farms, were drawn back to England and kept there by the engrossing interest which the wonderful revolution then breaking out in that kingdom could not but awaken in such minds as theirs. Here and everywhere, a great check was given to the early progress of the country by the turn of the tide which carried such men back to England, and prevented others from coming over. If the Parliament had not attempted to arrest the usurpations of the crown at that time, and the Stuarts been suffered to establish an absolute monarchy, the eyes and hearts of all free spirits would have remained fixed on America, and a perpetual stream of emigration brought over, for generations and for ever, thousands upon thousands of such men as came at the beginning. The effects that would have been thus produced in America and in England, in accelerating the progress of society here, and sinking it into debasement there; and thereby upon the fortunes of mankind the world[i.60] over, is a subject on which a meditative and philosophical mind may well be exercised.

Downing, Read, and Peters, three of the original settlers of Salem Farms, were pulled back to England and kept there by the intense interest sparked by the remarkable revolution happening in that country. This shift significantly hindered the early development of the colonies, as it drew such individuals back to England and discouraged others from coming over. If Parliament hadn’t tried to stop the crown’s overreach at that time, and if the Stuarts had been allowed to create an absolute monarchy, the attention and aspirations of all free-minded individuals would have remained focused on America, leading to a continuous flow of immigrants bringing thousands of people like those who came in the early days. The impact of this on both America and England, in terms of speeding up societal progress here and leading to degradation there; and the resulting effects on the fortunes of humanity around the globe, is a topic that could engage a thoughtful and reflective mind.

But, although these men were lost, others are worthy of being enumerated, in forming an estimate of the elements that went to make the character of the people, a chapter in whose history, of awful import, we are preparing ourselves to explore.

But even though these men were lost, there are others worth mentioning when evaluating the factors that shaped the character of the people, a crucial chapter in their history that we are getting ready to examine.

Francis Weston was a leading man at the very beginning. In 1634, with Roger Conant and John Holgrave, he represented Salem in the first House of Deputies ever assembled. His land grant was some little distance to the west of the meeting-house of the village. He must have been a person of more than ordinary liberality of spirit; for he discountenanced the intolerance of his age, and kept his mind open to receive truth and light. He did not conceal his sympathy with those who suffered for entertaining Antinomian sentiments. He was ordered to quit the colony in 1638. For the same offence, his wife, who probably had refused to go, was placed in the stocks "two hours at Boston and two at Salem, on a lecture day." Weston, having ventured back, five years afterwards, was put in irons, and imprisoned to hard labor. But, as he stood to his principles, and there was danger to be apprehended from his influence, he was again driven out of the colony.

Francis Weston was a key figure from the very start. In 1634, along with Roger Conant and John Holgrave, he represented Salem in the first-ever House of Deputies. His land grant was located a little west of the village meeting house. He must have been someone with a more than average openness of spirit; he rejected the intolerance of his time and was receptive to new ideas and insights. He didn’t hide his support for those who faced persecution for their Antinomian beliefs. He was ordered to leave the colony in 1638. For the same reason, his wife, who likely refused to go, was punished by spending "two hours in the stocks at Boston and two hours at Salem, on a lecture day." Weston, attempting to return five years later, was arrested, chained, and forced into hard labor. However, since he remained true to his beliefs and posed a threat due to his influence, he was once again expelled from the colony.

Richard Waterman came over from England in 1629, recommended to Governor Endicott by the governor and deputy in London. He was a noted hunter. "His chief employment," says the letter introducing[i.61] him to Endicott, "will be to get you good venison." A land grant was assigned him near Davenport's Hill. But he, too, had a spirit that resisted the severe and arbitrary policy of the times. He became a dissenter from the prevalent creed, and sympathized with those who suffered oppression. In 1664, he was brought before the court, condemned to imprisonment, and finally banished. Weston and Waterman subsequently were conspicuous in Rhode-Island affairs. While residing in the village, the latter probably devoted himself to the opening of his land, and the pursuit of game through the forests. I find but one notice of him as connected with public affairs.

Richard Waterman came over from England in 1629, recommended to Governor Endicott by the governor and deputy in London. He was a well-known hunter. "His main job," says the letter introducing[i.61] him to Endicott, "will be to get you good venison." He was given a land grant near Davenport's Hill. However, he also had a spirit that resisted the harsh and arbitrary policies of the time. He became a dissenter from the dominant beliefs and showed support for those who faced oppression. In 1664, he was brought before the court, sentenced to imprisonment, and ultimately banished. Weston and Waterman later played significant roles in Rhode Island affairs. While living in the village, Waterman likely focused on developing his land and hunting in the forests. I find only one mention of him related to public affairs.

For some years, the settlements were necessarily confined to the shores of bays or coves, and the banks of rivers. There were no wheel-carriages of any kind, for transportation or travel, until something like roads could be made; and that was the work of time. A few horses had been imported; but it was long before they could be raised to meet the general wants, or come much into use. Every thing had to be water-borne. The only vehicles were boats or canoes, mostly the latter. There were two kinds of canoes. Large white-pine logs were scooped or hollowed out, and wrought into suitable shape, about two and a half feet in breadth and twenty in length. These were often quite convenient and serviceable, but not to be compared with the Indian canoes, which were made of the bark of trees, wrought with great skill into a beautiful shape. The birch canoe was an admirable struc[i.62]ture, combining elements and principles which modern naval architecture may well study to imitate. In lightness, rapidity, freedom and ease of motion, it has not been, and cannot be, surpassed. Its draft, even when bearing a considerable burden, was so slight, that it would glide over the shallowest bars. It was strong, durable, and easily kept in repair. Although dangerous to the highest degree under an inexperienced and unskilful hand, no vessel has ever been safer when managed by persons trained to its use. The cool and quick-sighted Indian could guide it, with his exquisitely moulded paddle, in perfect security, through whirling rapids and over heavy seas, around headlands and across bays. The settlers early supplied themselves with canoes, by which to thread the interior streams, and cross from shore to shore in the harbors. One great advantage of the light canoe, before roads were opened through the woods, was, that it could be unloaded, and borne on the shoulders across the land, at any point, to another stream or lake, thus cutting off long curves, and getting from river to river. The lading would be transported in convenient parcels, the canoe launched, loaded, and again be floated on its way. Canoes soon came into universal use, particularly in this neighborhood. Wood, in his "New-England's Prospect," speaking of Salem, says, "There be more canowes in this town than in all the whole Patent, every household having a water horse or two." It was so important for the public safety to have them kept in good condition, that the town took the matter[i.63] in hand. The quarterly court records have the following entry under the date of June 27, 1636:—

For several years, settlements were limited to the shores of bays or coves and the banks of rivers. There were no wheeled vehicles of any kind for transportation or travel until roads could be created, which took time. A few horses had been brought in, but it was a long time before they could be bred to meet the general demand or be widely used. Everything had to be transported by water. The only vehicles available were boats or canoes, mostly the latter. There were two types of canoes. Large white pine logs were hollowed out and shaped, about two and a half feet wide and twenty feet long. These were often quite useful, but nothing compared to the Indian canoes, which were made from tree bark and crafted with great skill into beautiful shapes. The birch canoe was an exceptional structure, incorporating features and principles that modern shipbuilding should study to emulate. In terms of lightness, speed, agility, and ease of movement, it has not been surpassed and likely never will be. Its draft was so shallow, even when carrying a significant load, that it could glide over the shallowest bars. It was strong, durable, and easy to repair. Though it could be extremely dangerous in the hands of someone inexperienced or unskilled, no boat has ever been safer when handled by trained users. The cool and observant Indian could steer it with his finely crafted paddle through swirling rapids and rough seas, around headlands and across bays. The settlers quickly got canoes to navigate the interior streams and cross from shore to shore in the harbors. One major advantage of the lightweight canoe, before roads were cut through the woods, was that it could be unloaded and carried on people's shoulders across the land, allowing for shortcuts from one stream or lake to another. The cargo would be divided into manageable loads, the canoe launched, loaded, and set afloat again. Canoes soon became widely used, especially in this area. Wood, in his "New-England's Prospect," mentions Salem, saying, "There are more canoes in this town than in the entire Patent, with every household having a water horse or two." To ensure public safety and keep them in good condition, the town took charge of the situation. The quarterly court records have the following entry dated June 27, 1636:—

"It was ordered and agreed, that all the canoes of the north side of the town shall be brought the next second day, being the 4th day of the 5th month, about 9 o'clock, a.m., unto the cove of the common landing place of the North River, by George Harris his house—And that all the canoes of the south side are to be brought before the port-house in the South River, at the same time, then and there to be viewed by J. Holgrave, P. Palfrey, R. Waterman, R. Conant, P. Veren, or the greater number of them. And that there shall be no canoe used (upon penalty, of forty shillings, to the owner thereof) than such as the said surveyors shall allow of and set their mark upon; and if any shall refuse or neglect to bring their canoes to the said places at the time appointed, they shall pay for said fault 10 shillings."

"It was decided that all the canoes from the north side of town should be brought the day after tomorrow, on the 4th of the 5th month, around 9 o'clock, AM, to the cove at the public landing spot on the North River, near George Harris's house. All the canoes from the south side are to be brought in front of the port house on the South River at the same time to be inspected by J. Holgrave, P. Palfrey, R. Waterman, R. Conant, P. Veren, or a majority of them. No canoe is to be used (with a penalty of forty shillings for the owner) other than those approved and marked by the surveyors. If anyone fails to bring their canoes to the designated spots at the scheduled time, they will be fined 10 shillings for that offense."

The names of the men associated with Waterman prove that he was ranked among the chief citizens of the town. The austere manners of the age, among communities like that established here; the exclusion, at that time, by inexorable laws, of many forms of amusement; and the general sombre aspect of society, kept down the natural exhilaration of life to such a degree, that, when the pressure was occasionally removed, the whole people bounded into the liveliest outbursts of glad excitement. It was no doubt a gala day. Ceremony, sport, and festivity, in all their forms, took full effect. The surveyors performed their functions with the utmost display of authority, examined the canoes with the gravest scrutiny, and affixed[i.64] their marks with all due formality. A light, graceful, and most picturesque fleet swarmed, from all directions, to the appointed rendezvous. The harbor glittered with the flashing paddles, and was the scene of swift races and rival feats of skill, displaying manly strength and agility. It must have been an aquatic spectacle of rare gayety and beauty, not surpassed nor equalled in some respects, when, more than a century afterwards, the "Grand Turk" or the "Essex" frigate was launched, or when Commodore Forbes, still later, swept into our peaceful waters with his boat flotilla. It was the first Fourth of July ever celebrated in America.

The names of the men connected with Waterman show that he was considered one of the leading citizens of the town. The strict behaviors of the time, in communities like this one; the harsh laws that limited many forms of entertainment; and the overall serious nature of society kept the natural joy of life in check. So, when there was a chance to relax, the entire community erupted into lively expressions of happiness. It was definitely a festive day. Ceremony, sports, and celebrations were in full swing. The surveyors carried out their roles with great authority, closely inspected the canoes, and marked them with all the necessary formality. A lively, beautiful fleet gathered from all directions at the designated meeting point. The harbor sparkled with flashing paddles and was alive with fast races and competitive displays of skill, showcasing strength and agility. It must have been an aquatic event of rare joy and beauty, unmatched in some ways, even over a century later when the "Grand Turk" or the "Essex" frigate was launched, or when Commodore Forbes later entered our calm waters with his fleet of boats. It was the first Fourth of July ever celebrated in America.

Thomas Scruggs was an early inhabitant of Salem; often represented the town as deputy in the General Court; was one of the judges of the local court, and always recognized among the rulers of the town. In January, 1636, he received a grant of three hundred acres on the south-west limits of its territory. The next month, an exchange took place, which is thus recorded in the town-book of grants: "It was ordered, that, whereas Mr. Scruggs had a farm of three hundred acres beyond Forest River, and that Captain Trask had one of two hundred acres beyond Bass River, and Captain Trask freely relinquishing his farm of two hundred acres, it was granted unto Mr. Thomas Scruggs, and he thereupon freely relinquished his farm of three hundred acres." This brought Scruggs upon the Salem Farms, between Bass River and the great pond, Wenham Lake. The real object in making this arrangement was to advance a project which the lead[i.65]ing people of Salem at that time had much at heart. They were very desirous to have the college established on the tract relinquished by Scruggs. What would have been the effect of placing it there, in the immediate neighborhood of the sea-shore, in full view of the spacious bay, its promontories, islands, and navigation, is a question on which we may speculate at our leisure. The effort failed: Captain Trask and Mr. Scruggs had done all they could to accomplish it, and gave their energies to the welfare of the community in other directions. From the little that is recorded of Scruggs, it is quite evident that he was an intelligent and valuable citizen. The event that brought his career as a public man to a close proves that his mind was enlightened, liberal, and independent; that he was in advance of the times in which he lived. When the bitter and violent persecution of the celebrated Anne Hutchinson, on account of her Antinomian sentiments, took place, Mr. Scruggs disapproved and denounced it. He gave his whole influence, earnestly and openly, against such attempts to suppress freedom of inquiry and the rights of conscience. He, with others in Salem, was proscribed, disarmed, and deprived of his public functions. He appears to have been suffered to remain unmolested on his estate, and died there in 1654. He had but one child, Rachel; and the name, as derived from him, became extinct. The inventory of his property is dated on the 24th of June of that year. The items mentioned in it amount to £244. 10s. 2d. Consider[i.66]ing the rates of value at that time, it was a large property. At the same date, an agreement is recorded by which his widow, Margery, conveys to her son-in-law, John Raymond, all her real estate, upon these conditions: She to have the use of her house during her life, the bedding, and other "household stuff;" and he to pay her five pounds "in hand," twenty pounds per annum, and five pounds "at the hour of her death." This was an ample provision, in those times, for her comfort while she lived, and for her funeral charges. I do not remember to have found this last point arranged for, in such a form of expression, in any other instance.

Thomas Scruggs was an early resident of Salem; he often represented the town as a deputy in the General Court and served as one of the judges in the local court, always recognized among the town leaders. In January 1636, he was granted three hundred acres on the southwest edge of the town's territory. The following month, an exchange occurred, recorded in the town's grant book: "It was ordered that, since Mr. Scruggs had a farm of three hundred acres beyond Forest River, and Captain Trask had one of two hundred acres beyond Bass River, and Captain Trask generously relinquished his two hundred-acre farm, it was granted to Mr. Thomas Scruggs, who then willingly gave up his three hundred-acre farm." This move brought Scruggs to the Salem Farms, situated between Bass River and Wenham Lake. The main goal of this arrangement was to support a project that the leading figures of Salem were very passionate about. They were eager to establish a college on the land relinquished by Scruggs. What would have happened if it had been located there, right by the coastline, with a clear view of the expansive bay, its promontories, islands, and shipping lanes, is a topic we can ponder in our spare time. The effort was unsuccessful: Captain Trask and Mr. Scruggs did everything they could to make it happen and focused their efforts on the community's welfare in other ways. From the little recorded about Scruggs, it is clear that he was an intelligent and valuable citizen. The circumstances that ended his public career indicate that he was enlightened, liberal, and independent in thought; he was ahead of his time. During the harsh and violent persecution of the renowned Anne Hutchinson due to her Antinomian beliefs, Mr. Scruggs condemned the actions taken against her. He publicly and passionately opposed any attempts to suppress freedom of inquiry and the rights of conscience. Along with others in Salem, he faced exclusion, was disarmed, and stripped of his public roles. He seems to have been allowed to continue living peacefully on his estate and died there in 1654. He had one child, Rachel, and his lineage ended with him. The inventory of his estate is dated June 24 of that year, totaling £244. 10s. 2d. Considering the value at that time, that was a substantial estate. On the same date, an agreement is recorded where his widow, Margery, transfers all her property to her son-in-law, John Raymond, under certain conditions: she would retain the use of her house for her lifetime, along with the bedding and other "household stuff;" and he would pay her five pounds "up front," twenty pounds annually, and five pounds "at the time of her death." This was a generous provision for her comfort during her life and for her burial expenses. I don't recall seeing this last aspect arranged in such specific terms in any other instance.

William Alford was an early settler. He was a member of the numerous and wealthy society, or guild, of Skinners, in the city of London, and probably came here with the view of establishing an extensive trade in furs. He received accordingly, in 1636, a grant of two hundred acres, including what was for some time called Alford's Hill, afterwards Long Hill, now known as Cherry Hill. It is owned and occupied by R.P. Waters, Esq. Alford sympathized in religious views with his neighbor Scruggs, and with him was subjected to censure, and disarmed by order of the General Court. He sold his lands to Henry Herrick, and left the jurisdiction.

William Alford was an early settler. He was a member of the wealthy Skinners guild in London and likely came here to set up a large fur trading business. In 1636, he was granted two hundred acres, which included what was initially called Alford's Hill, later Long Hill, and now known as Cherry Hill. It is currently owned and occupied by R.P. Waters, Esq. Alford shared similar religious beliefs with his neighbor Scruggs, and together they faced criticism and were disarmed by the General Court. He sold his land to Henry Herrick and left the area.

One of the most enlightened, and perhaps most accomplished, men among the first inhabitants of Salem Village, was Townsend Bishop. He was admitted a freeman in 1635. The next year, he appears on the list of members of the Salem Church. He was one[i.67] of the judges of the local court, and, almost without intermission from his first coming here, a deputy to the General Court. In 1645, as his attention had been led to the subject, he conceived doubts in reference to infant baptism; and it was noticed that he did not bring forward a child, recently born, to the rite. Although himself on the bench, and ever before the object of popular favor and public honors, he was at once brought up, and handed over for discipline. The next year, he sold his estates, and probably removed elsewhere. He appears no more in our annals. Where he went, I have not been able to learn. It is to be hoped that he found somewhere a more congenial and tolerant abode. It is evident that he could not breathe in an atmosphere of bigotry; and it was difficult to find one free from the miasma in those days.

One of the most enlightened and possibly most accomplished individuals among the first residents of Salem Village was Townsend Bishop. He became a freeman in 1635. The following year, he appeared on the list of members of the Salem Church. He served as one[i.67] of the judges in the local court and, almost continuously since his arrival, as a deputy to the General Court. In 1645, as he began to reflect on the topic, he developed doubts about infant baptism; it was noted that he did not present a recently born child for the ceremony. Although he was a judge and always enjoyed popular support and public honors, he was immediately brought up for discipline. The next year, he sold his properties and likely moved elsewhere. He no longer appears in our records. I have not been able to discover where he went. Hopefully, he found a more supportive and accepting community. It is clear that he could not thrive in an environment of intolerance, which was hard to find free from back then.

Five of the most valuable of the first settlers of the village—Weston, Waterman, Scruggs, Alford, and Bishop—were thus early driven into exile, or subdued to silence, by the stern policy on which the colony was founded. It is an error to characterize this as religious bigotry. It was not so much a theological as a political persecution. Its apparent form was in reference to tenets of faith, but the policy was deeper than this. Any attempt to make opposition to the existing administration was treated with equal severity, whatever might be the subject on which it ventured to display itself.

Five of the most valuable early settlers of the village—Weston, Waterman, Scruggs, Alford, and Bishop—were quickly driven into exile or silenced by the strict policies that the colony was built on. It's a mistake to label this as just religious intolerance. It was more of a political than a theological persecution. While it seemed to be about beliefs, the underlying policy was more complex. Any challenge to the current administration was met with the same harsh response, no matter what the issue was that sparked the dissent.

The men who sought this far-off "nook and corner of the world," crossing a tempestuous and dangerous[i.68] ocean, and landing on the shores of a wilderness, leaving every thing, however dear and valuable, behind, came to have a country and a social system for themselves and of themselves alone. Their resolve was inexorable not to allow the mother-country, or the whole outside world combined, to interfere with them. And it was equally inexorable not to suffer dissent or any discordant element to get foothold among them. Sir Christopher Gardner's rank and title could not save him: he was not of the sort they wanted, and they shipped him back. Roger Williams's virtues, learning, apostolic piety, could not save him; and they drove him into a wintry wilderness, hunting him beyond their borders. It was not so much a question whether Baptists, Antinomians, or Quakers were right or wrong, as a preformed determination not to have any dissentients of any description among them. They had sacrificed all to find and to make a country for themselves, and they meant to keep it to themselves. They had gone out of everybody else's way, and they did not mean to let anybody else come into their way. They did not understand the great truth which Hugh Peters preached to Parliament, "Why," said he, "cannot Christians differ, and yet be friends? All children should be fed, though they have different faces and shapes: unity, not uniformity, is the Christian word." They admitted no such notion as this. They thought uniformity the only basis of unity. They meant to make and to keep this a country after their own pattern, a Congregational, Puritan, Cambridge-[i.69]Platform-man's country. The time has not yet come when we can lift up clean hands against them. Two successive chief-magistrates of the United States have opened the door and signified to one-eighth part of our whole people, that it will be best for them to walk out. So long as the doctrine is maintained that this is the white man's country, or any man's, or any class or kind of men's country, it becomes us to close our lips against denunciation of the Fathers of New England because they tried to keep the country to themselves. The sentiment or notion on which they acted, in whatever form it appears, however high the station from which it emanates, or however long it lasts in the world, is equally false and detestable in all its shapes. It is a defiant rebellion against that law which declares that "all nature's difference is all nature's peace;" that there can be no harmony without variety of sound, no social unity without unlimited freedom, and no true liberty where any are deprived of equal rights; that differences ought to bring men together, rather than keep them apart; and that the only government that can stand against the shocks of time, and grow stronger and dearer to all its people, is one that recognizes no differences of whatever kind among them. The only consistent or solid foundation on which a republic or a church can be built, is an absolute level, with no enclosures and no exclusion.

The men who sought this distant "nook and corner of the world," crossed a stormy and hazardous[i.68] ocean and landed on the shores of a wilderness, leaving behind everything they held dear and valuable. They came to create a country and a social system solely for themselves. Their decision was firm: they would not let the mother country or the outside world interfere with them. Equally unyielding was their stance against any dissent or discord among them. Sir Christopher Gardner's title and rank couldn't save him; he wasn't the kind of person they wanted, so they sent him back. Roger Williams’s virtues, knowledge, and devout nature didn’t protect him either; they forced him into a bleak wilderness, driving him beyond their borders. It wasn’t really about whether Baptists, Antinomians, or Quakers were right or wrong; it was a predetermined refusal to allow any dissenters among them. They had given up everything to find and create a country for themselves, and they intended to keep it to themselves. They had stepped away from everyone else and had no intention of letting anyone else intrude. They did not grasp the profound truth that Hugh Peters preached to Parliament: "Why," he said, "can't Christians disagree and still be friends? All children should be fed, even if they look different: unity, not uniformity, is the Christian ideal." They rejected this idea and believed that uniformity was the only basis for unity. They intended to shape and maintain this as a country after their own design, a Congregational, Puritan, Cambridge-[i.69]Platform-man’s country. The time hasn’t come yet when we can lift our hands against them. Two consecutive presidents of the United States have opened the door and signaled to one-eighth of our population that it would be best for them to leave. As long as the belief persists that this is the white man’s country, or any man’s, or any specific group’s country, we must refrain from condemning the Founding Fathers of New England for trying to keep the country for themselves. The sentiment or idea behind their actions—no matter how it appears, how high the position from which it comes, or how long it endures in the world—is equally false and detestable in every form. It is a bold rebellion against that principle that states, "All nature’s differences are all nature’s peace;" that there can be no harmony without a variety of sounds, no social unity without unlimited freedom, and no true liberty where some are denied equal rights; that differences should bring people together instead of keeping them apart; and that the only government that can withstand the tests of time and grow stronger and more cherished by all its people is one that recognizes no differences among them. The only consistent and solid foundation on which a republic or a church can be built is an absolute level, with no barriers and no exclusions.

Townsend Bishop's grant of three hundred acres was made on the 16th of January, 1636. When he sold it, Oct. 18, 1641, it appears by the deed, that there[i.70] were on it edifices, gardens, yards, enclosures, and meadows. A large force must have been put and kept upon it, from the first, to have produced such results in so short a time. Orchards had been planted. The manner in which the grounds were laid out is still indicated by embankments, with artificial slopes and roadways, which exhibit the fine taste of the proprietor, and must have required a large expenditure of money and labor. Although the estate has always been in the hands of owners competent to take care of it and keep it in good preservation, none but the original proprietor would have been likely to have made the outlay apparent on its face, on the plan adopted. The mansion in which he resided stands to-day. Its front, facing the south, has apparently been widened, at some remote intermediate date since its original erection, by a slight extension on the western end, beyond the porch. It has been otherwise, perhaps, somewhat altered in the course of time by repairs; but its general aspect, as exhibited in the frontispiece of this volume, and its original strongly compacted and imperishable frame, remain. No saw was used in shaping its timbers; they were all hewn, by the broad-axe, of the most durable oak: they are massive, and rendered by time as hard to penetrate almost as iron. The walls and stairway of the cellar, the entrance to which is seen by the side of the porch, constructed of such stones as could be gathered on the surface of a new country, bear the marks of great antiquity. A long, low kitchen, with a stud of scarcely[i.71] six feet, extended originally the whole length of the lean-to, on the north side of the house. The rooms of the main house were of considerably higher stud. The old roadway, the outlines of which still remain, approached the house from the east, came up to its north-east corner, wound round its front, and continued from its north-west corner, on a track still visible, over a brook and through the apple-orchard planted by Bishop, to the point where the burial-ground of the village now is; and so on towards the lands then occupied by Richard Hutchinson, also to the lands afterwards owned by Nathaniel Ingersol, towards Beaver Dam, and the first settlements in that direction and to the westward. In general it may be said, that the structural proportions and internal arrangements of the house, taken in its relations to the vestiges and indications on the face of the grounds, show that it is coeval with the first occupancy of the farm. But we do not depend, in this case, upon conjectural considerations, or on mere tradition, which, on such a point, is not always reliable. It happens to be demonstrated, that this is the veritable house built and occupied by Townsend Bishop, in 1636, by a singular and irrefragable chain of specific proof. A protracted land suit, hereafter to be described, gave rise to a great mass of papers, which are preserved in the files of the county courts and the State Department; among them are several plots made by surveyors, and adduced in evidence by the parties. Not only the locality but a diagram of the house, as then standing, are given.[i.72] The spot on which it stood is shown. Further, it appears, that in the deeds of transference of the estate, the homestead is specially described as the house in which Townsend Bishop lived, called "Bishop's Mansion." This continues to a period subsequent to the style of its architecture, and within recent tradition and the memory of the living. In the old Salem Commoner's records, it is called "Bishop's Cottage," which was the name generally given to dwelling-houses in those early times. Having, as occasion required, been seasonably repaired, it is as strong and good a house to-day as can be found. Its original timbers, if kept dry and well aired, are beyond decay; and it may stand, a useful, eligible, and comely residence, through a future as long as the past. It may be doubted whether any dwelling-house now in use in this country can be carried back, by any thing like a similar strength of evidence, to an equal antiquity. Its site, in reference to the surrounding landscape, was well chosen. Here its hospitable and distinguished first proprietor lived, in the interims of his public and official service, in peace and tranquillity, until ferreted out by the intrusive spirit of an intolerant age. Here he welcomed his neighbors,—Endicott, Downing, Peters, John Winthrop, Jr., Read, and other kindred spirits.[A]

Townsend Bishop's grant of three hundred acres was made on January 16, 1636. When he sold it on October 18, 1641, the deed shows that there[i.70] were buildings, gardens, yards, enclosures, and meadows on the property. A large effort must have been put in to create such results in such a short time. Orchards had already been planted. The way the land was laid out is still shown by embankments, with artificial slopes and roads that display the owner's fine taste and must have required a significant investment of money and labor. Although the estate has always been owned by capable individuals who maintained it well, none but the original owner would have likely made such a visible investment based on the design. The mansion where he lived still stands today. Its front, facing south, seems to have been widened at some point since it was originally built, with a slight extension on the western end beyond the porch. It has likely been somewhat changed over time due to repairs, but its overall look, as shown in the frontispiece of this volume, and its original strong and durable frame remain intact. No saw was used to shape its beams; they were all hewn with a broad axe from the sturdiest oak: they are massive and have become almost as hard to penetrate as iron over time. The walls and the cellar stairway, which can be seen by the side of the porch, were made of stones gathered from the surface of the new land and show signs of great age. A long, low kitchen, with a ceiling barely[i.71] six feet high, originally stretched the entire length of the lean-to on the north side of the house. The main house's rooms had significantly higher ceilings. The old driveway, which still has traces, approached the house from the east, reached its northeast corner, wound around the front, and continued from its northwest corner, over a brook and through the apple orchard planted by Bishop, to where the village burial ground now is; and so on toward the lands then occupied by Richard Hutchinson, as well as the lands later owned by Nathaniel Ingersol, toward Beaver Dam, and the early settlements in that direction and to the west. Generally, it can be said that the structural proportions and internal arrangements of the house, in relation to the visible remnants and signs on the property, indicate that it is contemporary with the first occupation of the farm. However, we don't rely on speculation or mere tradition, which isn't always trustworthy in such matters. It has been proven that this is indeed the house built and occupied by Townsend Bishop in 1636, through a unique and undeniable series of specific evidence. A lengthy land dispute, to be detailed later, resulted in a large collection of documents preserved in the county court and State Department files; among them are several plots made by surveyors, which were presented as evidence. These not only show the location but also include a diagram of the house as it then stood.[i.72] The exact spot where it stood is shown. Furthermore, it appears that in the deeds transferring the estate, the homestead is specifically described as the house where Townsend Bishop lived, called "Bishop's Mansion." This continues even after the architectural style evolved, and within the recent memory of the living. In the old Salem Commoner's records, it is referred to as "Bishop's Cottage," which was the common term for homes back then. Having been repaired as needed, it is as strong and good a house today as can be found. Its original beams, if kept dry and well-ventilated, are impervious to decay; and it may stand, a useful, attractive, and beautiful home, for a future as long as the past. It may be questioned whether any dwelling in use today in this country can be traced back, with a similar strength of evidence, to an equal age. Its location, in regard to the surrounding landscape, was well chosen. Here its hospitable and distinguished first owner lived, during his public service, in peace and tranquility, until disturbed by the intrusive spirit of an intolerant age. Here he welcomed his neighbors—Endicott, Downing, Peters, John Winthrop, Jr., Read, and other kindred spirits.[A]

In the course of a mysterious providence, this venerable mansion was destined to be rendered mem[i.74]orable by its connection with the darkest scene in our annals. As that scene cannot otherwise be comprehended in all the elements that led to it, it is necessary to give the intermediate history of the Townsend Bishop farm and mansion. In 1641, Bishop sold it to Henry Chickering, who seems to have been residing for some time in Salem, and to whom, in January, 1640, a grant of land had been made by the town. He continued to own it until the 4th of October, 1648; although he does not appear to have resided on the farm long, as he soon removed to Dedham, from which place he was deputy to the General Court in 1642, and several years afterwards. He sold the farm at the above-mentioned date to Governor Endicott for one hundred and sixty pounds. In 1653, John Endicott, Jr., the eldest son of the Governor, married Elizabeth, daughter of Jeremiah Houchins, an eminent citizen of Boston, who had before resided in Hingham, which place he represented as deputy for six years. The name was pronounced "Houkins," and so perhaps was finally spelled "Hawkins." By agreement, or "articles of marriage contract," Endicott bestowed the farm upon his son. "Present possession" was given. How long, or how much of the time, the young couple lived on the estate, is not known. Their principal residence was in Boston. The General Court, in 1660, granted John Endicott,[i.75] Jr., four hundred acres of land on the eastern side of the upper part of Merrimac River. After the purchase of the farm from Chickering, the Endicott property covered nearly a thousand acres in one tract, extending from the arms of the sea to the centre of the present village of Tapleyville. On the 10th of May, 1662, the Governor executed a deed, carrying out the engagements of the marriage contract, giving to his son John, his heirs, and assigns for ever, the Bishop farm. Governor Endicott died in 1665. A will was found signed and sealed by him, dated May 2, 1659, in which, referring to the marriage gift to John, he bequeathes the aforesaid farm to "him and his heirs," but does not add, "and assigns." Another item of the will is, "The land I have bequeathed to my two sons, in one place or another, my will is that the longest liver of them shall enjoy the whole, except the Lord send them children to inherit it after them." Unfortunately, there were no witnesses to the will. It was not allowed in Probate. The matter was carried up to the General Court; and it was decided Aug. 1, 1665, that the court "do not approve of the instrument produced in court to be the last will and testament of the late John Endicott, Esq., governor." In October of the same year, John Endicott, Jr., petitioned the General Court to act on the settlement of his father's estate; and the court directs administration to be granted to "Mrs. Elizabeth Endicott and her two sons, John and Zerubabel," and that they bring in an inventory to the next county court at Boston, and[i.76] to dispose of the same as the law directs. Upon this, the widow of the Governor, and his son Zerubabel, again appeal to the General Court; and on the 23d of May, 1666, "after a full hearing of all parties concerned in the said estate, i.e., the said Mrs. Elizabeth Endicott and her two sons, Mr. John and Mr. Zerubabel Endicott, Mr. Jeremiah Houchin being also present in court, and respectively presenting their pleas and evidences in the case," it was finally decided and ordered by the court, that the provisions of the document purporting to be the will of Governor Endicott should be carried into effect, with these exceptions: that the Bishop or Chickering farm shall go to his son John "to him, his heirs and assigns for ever;" and that Elizabeth, the wife of said son John, if she should survive her husband, shall enjoy during her life all the estate of her husband in all the other houses and lands mentioned in the instrument purporting to be his father's will. The court adjudge that this must have been "the real intent of the aforesaid John Endicott, Esq., deceased, who had during his life special favor and respect for her." They give the widow of the Governor "the goods and chattels" of the said John Endicott, Esq., her late husband, provided that, if "she shall die seized to the value of more than eighty pounds sterling" thereof, the surplus shall be divided between her two sons: John to have a double portion thereof. Finally, they appoint the widow sole administratrix, and require her to bring in a true inventory to the next court for the county of Suffolk, and to pay all debts.[i.77]

In a mysterious twist of fate, this old mansion was destined to become memorable for its connection to the darkest event in our history. Since that event can’t be fully understood without knowing the elements that led to it, it’s important to share the history of the Townsend Bishop farm and mansion. In 1641, Bishop sold it to Henry Chickering, who had been living in Salem for some time, and to whom the town had given a land grant in January 1640. He kept it until October 4, 1648; however, he doesn’t seem to have lived on the farm for long, as he soon moved to Dedham, where he served as a deputy to the General Court in 1642 and several years after. He sold the farm to Governor Endicott for one hundred sixty pounds on the date mentioned. In 1653, John Endicott Jr., the Governor’s eldest son, married Elizabeth, the daughter of Jeremiah Houchins, a prominent Boston citizen who had previously lived in Hingham, where he served as deputy for six years. The name was pronounced "Houkins," and might eventually have been spelled "Hawkins." By agreement, or "articles of marriage contract," Endicott gave the farm to his son. "Present possession" was granted. It’s unclear how long the young couple lived on the estate, as their main home was in Boston. In 1660, the General Court granted John Endicott Jr. four hundred acres of land on the eastern side of the upper Merrimac River. After purchasing the farm from Chickering, the Endicott property totaled nearly a thousand acres in one piece, stretching from the arms of the sea to the center of what is now Tapleyville. On May 10, 1662, the Governor executed a deed to fulfill the marriage contract, giving his son John, his heirs, and assigns the Bishop farm forever. Governor Endicott passed away in 1665. A will was found, signed and sealed by him, dated May 2, 1659, in which he referred to the marriage gift to John and bequeathed the farm to "him and his heirs," but didn’t mention "and assigns." Another item in the will states, "The land I have bequeathed to my two sons, in one place or another, my will is that the longest liver of them shall enjoy the whole, unless the Lord sends them children to inherit it after them." Unfortunately, there were no witnesses to the will. It wasn’t approved in Probate. The case was brought to the General Court, which decided on August 1, 1665, that they "do not approve of the instrument produced in court to be the last will and testament of the late John Endicott, Esq., governor." In October of that same year, John Endicott Jr. asked the General Court to settle his father’s estate; the court ordered that "Mrs. Elizabeth Endicott and her two sons, John and Zerubabel" be granted administration and required them to submit an inventory to the next county court in Boston, and to manage it according to the law. Following this, the Governor’s widow and his son Zerubabel appealed to the General Court again; on May 23, 1666, "after a full hearing of all parties concerned, namely, Mrs. Elizabeth Endicott and her two sons, Mr. John and Mr. Zerubabel Endicott, with Mr. Jeremiah Houchin present to submit their pleas and evidence," the court ultimately decided that the provisions of the document claiming to be Governor Endicott’s will should be executed, with these exceptions: the Bishop or Chickering farm would go to his son John "to him, his heirs and assigns forever;" and that Elizabeth, wife of John, if she outlived her husband, would enjoy all of her husband’s estate in all the other houses and lands listed in the document claiming to be his father’s will for the rest of her life. The court ruled that this must have been "the real intent of the said John Endicott, Esq., deceased, who had a special favor and respect for her during his life." They granted the Governor's widow "the goods and chattels" of the late John Endicott, Esq., her husband, with the condition that if "she dies owning more than eighty pounds sterling" of those, the excess would be split between her two sons, with John receiving a double portion. Lastly, they appointed the widow as the sole administratrix and required her to submit a true inventory to the next Suffolk County court and to pay all debts.

John and his father-in-law had it all their own way. The decision of the court was perhaps correct, according to legal principles; although it is not so certain that it was, in all respects, in conformity with the intent of Governor Endicott. Undoubtedly, as the language of the deed shows, he had made up his mind to give to his son John and "his assigns" absolute, full, and final possession of the Bishop farm. But it seems equally certain, that he meant to have the rest of his landed estate, including the Orchard Farm and the Ipswich-river farm, go directly and wholly to the survivor, if either of his sons died without issue. The facts and dates are as follows: His son John was married in 1653. The Governor's will was made in 1659. It had then become quite probable that John might not have issue. The will gives him and his heirs, but not his assigns, the Bishop farm. In the event of his death without issue, his widow would have her dower and legal life right in it, but the final heir would be Zerubabel. In 1662, the Governor, who had, some years before, removed to Boston, where he resided the remainder of his life, executed a deed, giving to his son John, "his heirs and assigns," a full and permanent title to the Bishop farm. This was a variation of the plan for the disposition of his estate as shown in his will. He probably designed to make a new will, securing to his natural heirs, so far as his other landed property was concerned, what he had thus permitted to pass away from them in the Bishop farm; that is, the full and immediate possession by[i.78] the survivor, if either of the sons died without issue. It was a favorite idea, almost a sacred principle, in those days, to have lands go in the natural descent. The sentiment is quite apparent in the tenor of the Governor's will. When he deprived, by his deed to John in 1662, Zerubabel's family of the right to the final possession of the Bishop farm, it can hardly be doubted that he relied upon the provisions of his will to secure to them the immediate, complete possession of all his other lands, without the incumbrance of any claim of dower or otherwise of John's widow. But the pressure of public duties prevented his duly executing his will, and putting it into a new shape, in conformity with the circumstances of the case. The troubles that followed teach the necessity of the utmost caution and carefulness in that most difficult and most irremediable of all business transactions,—the attempt to continue the control of property, after death, by written instruments.

John and his father-in-law had everything their way. The court's decision may have been correct according to the law, though it’s not entirely clear that it aligned with Governor Endicott's intentions. Clearly, as the deed states, he intended to give his son John and "his assigns" complete and final possession of the Bishop farm. However, it also seems evident that he wanted the rest of his estate, including the Orchard Farm and the Ipswich River farm, to go entirely to the survivor if either of his sons passed away without children. Here are the facts and dates: John got married in 1653. The Governor's will was created in 1659. By then, it was quite possible that John might not have children. The will grants him and his heirs, but not his assigns, the Bishop farm. If he died without children, his widow would have her dower and legal life interest in it, but the ultimate heir

John Endicott, Jr., died in February, 1668, without issue; leaving his whole estate to his widow, "her heirs and assigns for ever." His will is dated Jan. 27, 1668, and was offered to Probate on the 29th of February, 1668. His widow married, Aug. 31, 1668, the Rev. James Allen, one of the ministers of the First Church in Boston, whose previous wife, Hannah Dummer, by whom he received five hundred acres of land, had died in March, 1668. His Endicott wife died April 5, 1673, leaving the Townsend-Bishop farm and all her other property to him; and[i.79] on the 11th of September, of the same year, he married Sarah Hawlins. By his two preceding wives he received twelve hundred acres of land. How much he got by the last-mentioned, we have no information. Besides these matrimonial accumulations, the accounts seem to indicate that he was rich before.

John Endicott, Jr., passed away in February 1668, without any children, leaving his entire estate to his widow, "her heirs and assigns forever." His will is dated January 27, 1668, and was submitted for probate on February 29, 1668. His widow married the Rev. James Allen, a minister of the First Church in Boston, on August 31, 1668. James's previous wife, Hannah Dummer, who had given him five hundred acres of land, passed away in March 1668. His Endicott wife died on April 5, 1673, leaving the Townsend-Bishop farm and all her other properties to him; and[i.79] on September 11 of the same year, he married Sarah Hawlins. Through his two previous marriages, he acquired twelve hundred acres of land. We have no information on what he gained from his last wife. In addition to these marital assets, the records suggest that he was already wealthy before.

It may well be imagined, that it could not have been very agreeable to the family at the Orchard Farm to see this choice and extensive portion of their estate, which was within full view from their windows, swept into the hands of utter strangers in so rapid and extraordinary a manner, by a series of circumstances most distasteful and provoking. But this was but the beginning of their trouble.

It’s easy to imagine that the family at the Orchard Farm must have found it very unpleasant to see this prized and expansive part of their property, which was clearly in view from their windows, quickly taken over by total strangers in such a shocking way, due to a series of frustrating and upsetting events. But this was just the start of their troubles.

On the 29th of April, 1678, Allen sold the Bishop farm to Francis Nurse, of the town of Salem, for four hundred pounds. Nurse was an early settler, and, before this purchase, had lived, for some forty years, "near Skerry's," on the North River, between the main part of the settlement in the town of Salem and the ferry to Beverly. He is described as a "tray-maker." The making of these articles, and similar objects of domestic use, was an important employment in a new country remote from foreign supply. He appears to have been a very respectable person, of great stability and energy of character, whose judgment was much relied on by his neighbors. No one is mentioned more frequently as umpire to settle disputes, or arbitrator to adjust conflicting claims. He was often on committees to determine boundaries or estimate[i.80] valuations, or on local juries to lay out highways and assess damages. The fact that he was willing to encounter the difficulties connected with such a heavy transaction as the purchase of the Bishop farm at such a price at his time of life proves that he had a spirit equal to a bold undertaking. He was then fifty-eight years of age. His wife Rebecca was fifty-seven years of age. We shall meet her again.

On April 29, 1678, Allen sold the Bishop farm to Francis Nurse from Salem for four hundred pounds. Nurse was an early settler and had lived for about forty years "near Skerry's," along the North River, between the main settlement in Salem and the ferry to Beverly. He's described as a "tray-maker." Making these items and similar household goods was an important job in a new country that was far from foreign supplies. He seems to have been a well-respected person with a strong and energetic character, whose judgment was highly valued by his neighbors. He is mentioned frequently as an umpire to settle disputes or an arbitrator to resolve conflicting claims. He often served on committees to define boundaries or estimate valuations, or on local juries to lay out highways and assess damages. The fact that he was willing to face the challenges involved in such a significant purchase as the Bishop farm at his age shows he had the spirit for bold undertakings. He was fifty-eight years old at the time, while his wife Rebecca was fifty-seven. We'll encounter her again.

They had four sons,—Samuel, John, Francis, and Benjamin; and four daughters,—Rebecca, married to Thomas Preston, Mary to John Tarbell, Elizabeth to William Russell, and Sarah, who remained unmarried until after the death of her mother. With this strong force of stalwart sons and sons-in-law, and their industrious wives, Francis Nurse took hold of the farm. The terms of the purchase were so judicious and ingenious, that they are worthy of being related, and show in what manner energetic and able-bodied men, even if not possessed of capital, particularly if they could command an effective co-operation in the labor of their families, obtained possession of valuable landed estates. The purchase-money was not required to be paid until the expiration of twenty-one years. In the mean time, a moderate annual rent was fixed upon; seven pounds for each of the first twelve years, and ten pounds for each of the remaining nine years. If, at the end of the time, the amount stipulated had not been paid, or Nurse should abandon the undertaking, the property was to relapse to Allen. Disinterested and suitable men, whose appointment was[i.81] provided for, were then to estimate the value added to the estate by Nurse during his occupancy, by the clearing of meadows or erection of buildings or other permanent improvements, and all of that value over and above one hundred and fifty pounds was to be paid to him. If any part of the principal sum should be paid prior to the expiration of twenty-one years, a proportionate part of the farm was to be relieved of all obligation to Allen, vest absolutely in Nurse, and be disposable by him. By these terms, Allen felt authorized to fix a very high price for the farm, it not being payable until the lapse of a long period of time. If not paid at all, the property would come back to him, with one hundred and fifty pounds of value added to it. It was not a bad bargain for him,—a man of independent means derived from other sources, and so situated as not to be able to carry on the farm himself. It was a good investment ahead. To Nurse the terms were most favorable. He did not have to pay down a dollar at the start. The low rent required enabled him to apply almost the entire income from the farm to improvements that would make it more and more productive. Before half the time had elapsed, a value was created competent to discharge the whole sum due to Allen. His children severally had good farms within the bounds of the estate, were able to assume with ease their respective shares of the obligations of the purchase; and the property was thus fully secured within the allotted time. Allen gave, at the beginning, a full deed, in the ordinary form, which[i.82] was recorded in this county. Nurse gave a duly executed bond, in which the foregoing conditions are carefully and clearly defined. That was recorded in Suffolk County; and nothing, perhaps, was known in the neighborhood, at the time or ever after, of the terms of the transaction. When the success of the enterprise was fully secured, Nurse conveyed to his children the larger half of the farm, reserving the homestead and a convenient amount of land in his own possession. The plan of this division shows great fairness and judgment, and was entirely satisfactory to them all. They were required, by the deeds he gave them, to maintain a roadway by which they could communicate with each other and with the old parental home.

They had four sons—Samuel, John, Francis, and Benjamin—and four daughters—Rebecca, who married Thomas Preston, Mary who married John Tarbell, Elizabeth who married William Russell, and Sarah, who stayed single until after their mother passed away. With this strong group of sturdy sons and sons-in-law, along with their hardworking wives, Francis Nurse took over the farm. The purchase terms were so thoughtful and clever that they deserve to be shared, illustrating how energetic and capable men, even without capital, especially if they had the effective labor of their families, could acquire valuable land. The purchase price didn't have to be paid until twenty-one years later. In the meantime, a reasonable annual rent was set: seven pounds for each of the first twelve years and ten pounds for the last nine years. If, by the end of the term, the full amount hadn't been paid, or if Nurse abandoned the venture, the property would revert to Allen. Disinterested and qualified individuals, as outlined in[i.81], would then determine the value Nurse added during his time there—whether through clearing meadows, building structures, or other permanent improvements—and any value over one hundred and fifty pounds would be paid to him. If a portion of the principal amount was paid before the twenty-one years were up, that percentage of the farm would be freed from any obligations to Allen and would fully belong to Nurse. With these terms, Allen could justify a high price for the farm, as payment wasn't required for a long time. If payment was never made, the property would return to him, with one hundred and fifty pounds of added value. It was a good deal for him—a man with independent income from other sources, unable to run the farm himself. It was a solid investment for the future. For Nurse, the terms were very favorable. He didn’t have to pay anything upfront. The low rent allowed him to invest almost all the farm’s income into improvements that made it increasingly productive. Before half the time had passed, he had built enough value to cover the full amount owed to Allen. His children each possessed good farms within the estate's boundaries and could easily handle their respective shares of the purchase obligations; thus, the property was completely secured within the specified timeframe. Allen initially provided a complete deed in the standard format, which[i.82] was recorded in this county. Nurse provided a properly executed bond that clearly outlined the aforementioned conditions. This was recorded in Suffolk County, and likely nothing about the transaction was known in the community at the time or afterward. Once the success of the venture was assured, Nurse transferred the larger half of the farm to his children, keeping the homestead and a reasonable amount of land for himself. The way he divided the property showed great fairness and wisdom, and it was entirely satisfactory to all of them. The deeds he provided required them to maintain a pathway to stay connected with each other and the old family home.

Here the venerable couple were living in truly patriarchal style, occupying the "mansion" of Townsend Bishop, when the witchcraft delusion occurred. They and their children were all clustered within the limits of the three-hundred-acre farm. They were one family. The territory was their own, secured by their united action, and made commodious, productive, valuable, and beautiful to behold, by their harmonious, patient, and persevering labor. Each family had a homestead, and fields and gardens; and children were growing up in every household. The elder sons and sons-in-law had become men of influence in the affairs of the church and village. It was a scene of domestic happiness and prosperity rarely surpassed. The work of life having been successfully done, it seemed that a peaceful and serene descent into the vale of years was[i.83] secured to Francis and Rebecca Nurse. But far otherwise was the allotment of a dark and inscrutable providence.

Here the respected couple were living in a truly traditional way, occupying the "mansion" of Townsend Bishop when the witchcraft craze happened. They and their children were all gathered within the three-hundred-acre farm. They were one family. The land was theirs, secured by their combined efforts, and made comfortable, productive, valuable, and visually appealing by their cooperative, patient, and persistent work. Each family had a homestead, along with fields and gardens; children were growing up in every household. The older sons and sons-in-law had become influential figures in the church and village. It was a scene of domestic happiness and prosperity that was rarely matched. With the hard work of life having been successfully completed, it seemed that a peaceful and calm transition into old age was[i.83] secured for Francis and Rebecca Nurse. But fate had something different in store with a dark and mysterious providence.

There is some reason to suspect that the prosperity of the Nurses had awakened envy and jealousy among the neighbors. The very fact that they were a community of themselves and by themselves, may have operated prejudicially. To have a man, who, for forty years, had been known, in the immediate vicinity, as a farmer and mechanic on a small scale, without any pecuniary means, get possession of such a property, and spread out his family to such an extent, was inexplicable to all, and not relished perhaps by some. There seems to have been a disposition to persist in withholding from him the dignity of a landholder; and, long after he had distributed his estate among his descendants, it is mentioned in deeds made by parties that bounded upon it, as "the farm which Mr. Allen, of Boston, lets to the Nurses." Not knowing probably any thing about it, they call it, even after Nurse's death, "Mr. Allen's farm." This, however, was a slight matter. When Allen sold the farm to Nurse, he bound himself to defend the title; and he was true to his bond. What was required to be done in this direction may, perhaps, have exposed the Nurses to animosities which afterwards took terrible effect against them.

There’s some reason to believe that the Nurses’ success stirred up envy and jealousy among their neighbors. The very fact that they formed a tight-knit community might have worked against them. For a man who had spent forty years known locally as a small-scale farmer and handyman, without any financial resources, to acquire such property and expand his family was puzzling to everyone and maybe not appreciated by some. It seems there was a tendency to deny him the title of landowner; even long after he had divided his estate among his heirs, it was referred to in deeds by neighboring parties as “the farm that Mr. Allen, of Boston, rents to the Nurses.” Not really knowing better, they continued to refer to it as “Mr. Allen’s farm,” even after Nurse's death. However, this was a minor issue. When Allen sold the farm to Nurse, he committed to defending the title, and he upheld that promise. What he needed to do in this regard may have led to animosities that later turned dangerous for the Nurses.

In granting lands originally, neither the General Court nor the town exercised sufficient care to define boundaries. There does not appear to have been any well-arranged system, based upon elaborate, accurate,[i.84] scientific surveys. Of the dimensions of the area of a rough, thickly wooded, unfrequented country, the best estimates of the most practised eyes, and measurements resting on mere exploration or perambulation, are very unreliable. The consequence was, that, in many cases, grants were found to overlap each other. This was the case with the Bishop farm; and soon after Nurse came into possession, and had begun to operate upon it, a conflict commenced; trespasses were complained of; suits were instituted; and one of the most memorable and obstinately contested land-controversies known to our courts took place. In that controversy Nurse was not formally a principal. The case was between James Allen and Zerubabel Endicott, or between Allen and Nathaniel Putnam.

When lands were first granted, neither the General Court nor the town took enough care to define boundaries. There doesn’t seem to have been a well-organized system based on thorough, precise, [i.84] scientific surveys. In a vast, densely wooded, and rarely visited area, the best estimates from the most experienced observers, along with measurements based on simple exploration, were quite unreliable. As a result, in many instances, grants ended up overlapping. This happened with the Bishop farm; shortly after Nurse took possession and began working on it, disputes arose. Complaints about trespassing were made, lawsuits were filed, and one of the most notable and fiercely fought land disputes in our courts took place. In that dispute, Nurse wasn't officially a principal. The case was between James Allen and Zerubabel Endicott, or between Allen and Nathaniel Putnam.

An inspection of the map, at this point, will enable us to understand the grounds on which the suit was contested. The Orchard Farm was granted to Endicott, as has been stated, July 3, 1632, by the General Court. The grant states the bounds on the south and on the north to be two rivers; on the east, another river, into which they both flow; and, on the west, the mainland. Where this western line was to strike the rivers on the north and south is not specified; but the natural interpretation would seem to be, in the absence of any thing to the contrary, that it was to strike them at their respective heads. The evidence of all persons who were conversant with the premises during the life of the Governor as connected with the farm was unanimous and conclusive to[i.85] this point; that is, that he and they always supposed that the west line was, as drawn on the map, from the head of one river to the head of the other; that the farm embraced all between them as far up as the tide set. It was objected, on the other side, that this made the farm much more than three hundred acres; but as an offset to that was the fact, that a considerable part of the area was swamp or marsh, not usually taken into the account in reckoning the extent of a grant, and the additional fact, that the language of the General Court in reference to quantity was not precise,—"about" three hundred acres. At the same date with the grant to Endicott, the General Court granted two hundred acres to Mr. Skelton, which tract is given on the map.

An inspection of the map, at this point, will help us understand the reasons behind the lawsuit. The Orchard Farm was granted to Endicott on July 3, 1632, by the General Court. The grant outlines the boundaries: to the south and north, two rivers; to the east, another river that both flow into; and to the west, the mainland. It doesn't specify where this western line meets the rivers to the north and south, but it would seem logical, unless stated otherwise, that it should meet them at their respective sources. Everyone who was familiar with the land during the Governor's lifetime and its connection to the farm agreed that he and they always believed the western line went, as drawn on the map, from the head of one river to the head of the other; that the farm included all the land between them up to where the tide reached. The opposing side argued that this would make the farm much larger than three hundred acres; however, it was countered that a significant portion of the area was swamp or marsh, which is usually not included when calculating the size of a grant, along with the point that the General Court's wording regarding the size was vague— "about" three hundred acres. At the same time as the grant to Endicott, the General Court also granted two hundred acres to Mr. Skelton, which area is shown on the map.

As has been stated, the General Court conferred upon the towns the exclusive right to dispose of the lands within their limits, March 3, 1635. On the 10th of December of that year, the town of Salem granted to Robert Cole the tract of three hundred acres subsequently purchased by Emanuel Downing, which is indicated on the map. On the 11th of January, 1636, the grant of three hundred acres was made to Townsend Bishop. Its language is unfortunately obscure in some expressions; but it is clear, that the tract was to be four hundred rods in length, one hundred and twenty-four rods in width at the western end, and one hundred and sixteen rods at the eastern. At the north-east corner it was to meet the water or brook that separated it from the grant to Skelton; and it[i.86] was also to "but" upon, or touch, at the eastern end, the land granted to Endicott by the General Court. After the grant to Bishop, the town, from time to time, made grants to Stileman of land north of the Bishop grant. Stileman's grants adjoined Skelton's at the north-eastern corner of the Bishop farm. That part of Stileman's land had come into possession of Nathaniel Putnam, and the residue westwardly, together with the grant to Weston, into the possession of Hutchinson, Houlton, and Ingersol. Still further west, the town had made grants to Swinnerton. Their respective locations are given in the map. The point of difficulty which gave rise to litigation was this: The Bishop farm was required, by the terms of the grant, to be one hundred and sixteen rods wide at its eastern end. But there was no room for it. The requisite width could not be got without encroaching upon either Putnam or Endicott, or both. As Endicott stood upon an earlier title than that of Bishop, and from a higher authority, and Putnam upon a later title from an inferior authority, the court of trials might have disposed of the matter, at the opening, on that ground, and Putnam been left to suffer the encroachment. But it did not so decide; and the case went on. The struggle was between Endicott to push it north, and thereby save his Orchard Farm, and the land between it and the Bishop grant, given by the town to his father, called the Governor's Plain, and Nathaniel Putnam to push it south, and thereby save the land he had received from his wife's father, Rich[i.87]ard Hutchinson, who had purchased from Stileman. Allen stood on the defensive against both of them. The Nurses had nothing to do but to attend to their own business, carrying on their farming operations up to the limits of their deed, looking to Allen for redress, if, in the end, the dimensions of their estate should be curtailed. But, being the occupants, and, until finally ousted, the owners of the land, if there was any intrusion to be repelled, or violence to be met, or fighting to be done, they were the ones to do it. They were equal to the situation.

As mentioned, the General Court granted the towns the exclusive right to manage the lands within their boundaries on March 3, 1635. On December 10 of that year, the town of Salem gave Robert Cole a tract of three hundred acres that was later bought by Emanuel Downing, as shown on the map. On January 11, 1636, three hundred acres were granted to Townsend Bishop. The wording is unfortunately unclear in some parts; however, it's evident that the tract was to be four hundred rods long, one hundred twenty-four rods wide at the western end, and one hundred sixteen rods wide at the eastern end. At the northeast corner, it was supposed to meet the water or brook that separated it from the grant to Skelton; it[i.86] was also meant to "abut" at the eastern end on the land granted to Endicott by the General Court. After the grant to Bishop, the town periodically made grants to Stileman for land north of the Bishop grant. Stileman's grants bordered Skelton's land at the northeast corner of the Bishop farm. That part of Stileman's land came into the possession of Nathaniel Putnam, while the remaining western part, along with the grant to Weston, went to Hutchinson, Houlton, and Ingersol. Further west, the town granted land to Swinnerton. Their exact locations are detailed in the map. The issue that led to litigation was this: The Bishop farm was supposed to be one hundred sixteen rods wide at its eastern end according to the grant. However, there was no space for it. The necessary width couldn’t be achieved without encroaching on either Putnam or Endicott, or both. Since Endicott held a prior title from a higher authority than Bishop's, and Putnam held a later title from a lower authority, the trial court could have dismissed the case right away on that basis, leaving Putnam to deal with the encroachment. But the court did not decide that way, and the case continued. The conflict was between Endicott trying to push it north to protect his Orchard Farm and the land between it and the Bishop grant, which had been given to his father, referred to as the Governor's Plain, and Nathaniel Putnam wanting to push it south to protect the land he had received from his father-in-law, Richard Hutchinson, who had purchased it from Stileman. Allen was on the defensive against both of them. The Nurses only had to focus on their own farming operations within the limits of their deed, looking to Allen for remedies if their estate dimensions were reduced in the end. However, since they were the occupants and, until finally evicted, the owners of the land, if there was any intrusion to repel, violence to confront, or fighting to be done, they were the ones to handle it. They were up to the situation.

After various trials in the courts of law in all possible shapes, the whole subject was carried up to the General Court, where it was decided, in conformity with the report of a special commission in May, 1679, substantially in favor of Putnam and Allen. Endicott petitioned for a new hearing. Another commission was appointed; and their report was accepted in May, 1682. It was more unfavorable to Endicott than the previous one. He protested against the judgment of the court in earnest but respectful language, and petitioned for still another hearing. They again complied with his request, and appointed a day for once more examining the case; but, when the day came, Nov. 24, 1683, he was sick in bed, and the case was settled irrevocably against him.

After several trials in various courts, the entire matter was taken to the General Court, where, in line with a special commission's report in May 1679, the decision was mostly in favor of Putnam and Allen. Endicott requested a new hearing. Another commission was formed, and their report was accepted in May 1682. This report was less favorable to Endicott than the previous one. He earnestly yet respectfully protested the court's judgment and requested another hearing. They agreed to his request and set a date to review the case again; however, on the scheduled day, November 24, 1683, he was bedridden with illness, and the case was settled permanently against him.

The map gives the lines of the Bishop farm as finally settled by the General Court. It will be noticed, that it is laid directly across the Governor's Plain, and runs far into the Orchard Farm "up to the rocks[i.88] near Endicott's dwelling-house," or, as it is otherwise stated, "within a few rods of Guppy's ditch, near to" the said house. It may be said to have been a necessity, as the original three hundred acres of the grant to Townsend Bishop had to be made up. It could not go north; for Houlton and Ingersol stood upon the Weston grant, and Hutchinson and Nathaniel Putnam stood upon Stileman's grants, to push it back. It could not go west or south-west, for there Swinnerton stood to fend off upon his grants; and there, too, was Nathaniel Putnam, upon his own grant, and lands he had purchased of another original grantee. It could not be swung round to the south without jamming up the lands of Felton and others, or pushing them over the grants, made to Robert Cole—under which Downing had purchased—and to Thomas Read. All these parties were combined to force it south-eastwardly over the grounds of Endicott. Nathaniel Putnam was his most fatal antagonist. He was a man of remarkable energy, of consummate adroitness, and untiring resources in such a transaction; and he so managed to press in the bounds of the Bishop farm, at the north-east, as to gain a valuable strip for himself. With this strong man against him, acting in combination with the rich and influential James Allen, minister of the great metropolitan First Church, and licenser of the press, who brought the whole power of his clerical and social connections in Boston and throughout the colony to bear upon the General Court, Zerubabel Endicott had no chance for justice, and no redress for[i.89] wrong. In vain he invoked the memory of his father, or of Winthrop, the grandfather of his wife. His father and both the Winthrops had long before left the scene: a new generation had risen, and there was none to help him.

The map outlines the boundaries of the Bishop farm as established by the General Court. It’s important to note that the boundary runs directly across the Governor's Plain and stretches deep into the Orchard Farm "up to the rocks[i.88] near Endicott's house," or, as it’s described another way, "within a few rods of Guppy's ditch, close to" that house. It can be said this was necessary to complete the original three hundred acres granted to Townsend Bishop. It couldn’t extend north because Houlton and Ingersol occupied the Weston grant, and Hutchinson and Nathaniel Putnam were on Stileman's grants, obstructing any northward movement. It also couldn’t move west or southwest because Swinnerton was blocking on his own grants; similarly, Nathaniel Putnam was on his grant and land he bought from another original grantee. It couldn’t swing south without cramming the lands of Felton and others or encroaching on the grants given to Robert Cole—under which Downing had made his purchase—and to Thomas Read. All these parties were united in pushing it southeast over Endicott’s land. Nathaniel Putnam was his most formidable opponent. He was a man of exceptional energy, remarkable skill, and endless resources for such matters; he manipulated the boundaries of the Bishop farm in the northeast to secure a valuable strip for himself. With this powerful adversary aligned with the wealthy and influential James Allen, minister of the prominent First Church and press licenser, who utilized his clerical and social connections in Boston and throughout the colony to influence the General Court, Zerubabel Endicott stood no chance of receiving justice and had no means of seeking redress for[i.89] the wrongs he faced. He appealed in vain to the memory of his father and Winthrop, his wife's grandfather. His father and both Winthrops had long since passed away; a new generation had emerged, and no one was there to support him.

One would have supposed, that the General Court, which had granted the Orchard Farm to Governor Endicott, would have felt bound, in self-respect and in honor, to have protected it against any overlapping grants subsequently made by an inferior authority. Under the circumstances of the case, it was its duty to have held the Orchard Farm intact, and made it up to the satisfaction of Allen and Nurse by a grant elsewhere, or an equitable compensation in money. It owed so much to the son of Endicott and the grand-daughter of Winthrop, the first noble Fathers of the colony. Perhaps the court found its justification in the phraseology of the deed of conveyance of the Bishop farm from Governor Endicott to his son John. After reciting or referring to the original town grant to Bishop, and the deeds from Bishop to Chickering, and from Chickering to himself, the Governor conveys to his son John all the houses, &c., and every part and parcel of the land "to the utmost extent thereof, according as is expressed or included in either of the forecited deeds, or town grant." It was maintained, and justly, by Allen, that he held all that was conveyed to John Endicott, Jr. But the Court had no right to encroach upon the Orchard Farm, which had[i.90] been granted to the Governor by them prior to all deeds and to the town grant to Bishop.

One would think that the General Court, which had given the Orchard Farm to Governor Endicott, would have felt obligated, out of self-respect and honor, to protect it from any overlapping grants later issued by a lower authority. Given the situation, it was their duty to keep the Orchard Farm intact and to compensate Allen and Nurse with either another grant or fair monetary compensation. They owed that much to the son of Endicott and the granddaughter of Winthrop, the first noble Fathers of the colony. Perhaps the court justified its actions based on the wording of the deed that transferred the Bishop farm from Governor Endicott to his son John. After mentioning the original town grant to Bishop, along with the deeds from Bishop to Chickering, and from Chickering to himself, the Governor grants his son John all the buildings, etc., and every part of the land "to the fullest extent, as expressed or included in either of the aforementioned deeds or town grant." Allen rightly argued that he owned everything that was conveyed to John Endicott, Jr. However, the Court had no authority to encroach upon the Orchard Farm, which had[i.90] been granted to the Governor by them before all other deeds and the town grant to Bishop.

Never did that deep and sagacious observation on the mysteries of human nature, "Men's judgments are a parcel of their fortunes," receive a more striking or melancholy illustration than in the case of Zerubabel Endicott. With his falling fortunes, his judgment and discretion fell also; his mind, maddened by a sense of wrong, seemed bent upon exposing itself to new wrongs. Having been broken down by lawsuits, that had wasted his estate, he seemed to have acquired a blind passion for them. Having destroyed his peace and embarrassed his affairs in attempts to resist the adjudications of the Court, he persisted in struggling against them. He had tried to push the Bishop grant west, over the land of Nathaniel Putnam in that quarter. The highest tribunal had settled it against him. But he appeared to be incapable of realizing the fact. He sent his hired men to cut timber on that land. They worked there some days, felled a large number of trees, and hewed them into beams and joists for the frame of a house. One morning, returning to their work, there was no timber to be found; logs, framework, and all, were gone. They were carefully piled up a mile away, by the side of Putnam's dwelling-house, who had sent two teams, one of four oxen, the other of two oxen and a horse, with an adequate force of men, and in two loadings had cleaned out the whole. Endicott of course sued him, and of course was cast.

Never has the insightful observation about the complexities of human nature—"Men's judgments are a reflection of their fortunes"—been more clearly illustrated than in the case of Zerubabel Endicott. As his fortunes declined, so did his judgment and sense. His mind, driven mad by a sense of injustice, seemed determined to expose itself to further wrongs. After being battered by lawsuits that drained his resources, he developed a reckless obsession with them. Having lost his peace and complicated his situation by trying to resist the court's rulings, he continued to fight against them. He attempted to push the Bishop's grant westward onto Nathaniel Putnam's land in that area. The highest court had ruled against him, yet he seemed unable to accept that reality. He sent his laborers to cut timber on that land. They worked there for several days, cutting down numerous trees and shaping them into beams and joists for a house. One morning, when they returned, there was no timber to be found; the logs and framework had vanished. They were neatly piled up a mile away, next to Putnam's house, where Putnam had sent two teams—one with four oxen, the other with two oxen and a horse—and enough men to haul away everything in two trips. Naturally, Endicott sued him, and predictably, he lost.

When the General Court had consented to give him[i.91] a rehearing of the case of the Bishop farm, they expressly forbade his making any "strip" of the land in the mean while. But with the infatuation which seemed to possess him, and not heeding how fatally it would prejudice his cause at the impending hearing to violate the order of the Court, he again sent a gang of men to cut wood on the land in controversy. The following shows the result:—

When the General Court agreed to give him[i.91] a new hearing for the case regarding the Bishop farm, they clearly prohibited him from making any "strip" of the land in the meantime. However, despite the obsession that seemed to overtake him, and ignoring how severely it would hurt his case at the upcoming hearing to break the Court's order, he once again sent a crew of men to cut wood on the disputed land. The following shows the result:—

"Hugh Jones, aged 46 years, and Alexius Reinolds, aged 25 years, testify and say, that we, these deponents, being desired by Mr. Zerubabel Endicott to cut up some wood, for his winter firewood, accordingly went with our teams, which had four oxen and a horse; and there we met with several other teams of our neighbors, which were upon the same account, that is to say, to help carry up Mr. Endicott some wood for his winter firewood, and when we had loaded our sleds, Thomas Preston and John Tarbell came in a violent manner, and hauled the wood out of our sleds; and Francis Nurse, being present, demanded whose men we were. Mr. Endicott, being present, answered, they were his men."

"Hugh Jones, 46 years old, and Alexius Reinolds, 25 years old, testify and say that we, the undersigned, were asked by Mr. Zerubabel Endicott to cut up some wood for his winter firewood. We went with our teams, which had four oxen and a horse. There, we encountered several other teams from our neighbors, who were there for the same reason, to help bring Mr. Endicott some firewood for the winter. After we loaded our sleds, Thomas Preston and John Tarbell aggressively came over and pulled the wood out of our sleds. Francis Nurse, who was present, asked whose workers we were. Mr. Endicott, who was also present, replied that they were his men."

These witnesses testify that this "battle of the wilderness" lasted two days,—Endicott's men cutting the wood and loading the teams, and Nurse's men pitching it off. The altercations and conflicts that took place between the parties during those two days may easily be imagined. Whether there was a final, decisive pitched battle, we are not informed. Perhaps there was. The woods rang with rough echoes, we may be well assured. A lawsuit followed; the result could not be in doubt. Endicott had no right there;[i.92] he was there in direct violation of the order of Court. Nurse was in possession, had a right, and was bound, to keep the land from being stripped.

These witnesses say that this "battle of the wilderness" went on for two days—Endicott’s men were cutting the wood and loading the teams, while Nurse’s men were unloading it. The arguments and clashes between the groups during those two days are easy to picture. Whether there was a final, decisive battle, we don't know. It’s possible there was. The woods echoed with loud noises, that much we can be sure of. A lawsuit followed; the outcome was never in doubt. Endicott had no right to be there; he was there in direct violation of the court order. Nurse was in possession, had a right to the land, and was obligated to prevent it from being stripped.[i.92]

Shortly after this, Endicott broke down, under the difficulties that had accumulated around him. On the 24th of November, 1683, as we have seen, he was "sick in bed." Two days before,—that is, on the 22d of November,—he had made his will, which was presented in court on the 27th of March, 1684. He was game to the last; for this is an item of the will:—

Shortly after this, Endicott couldn't take it anymore, overwhelmed by the problems piling up around him. On November 24, 1683, as we noted, he was "sick in bed." Two days earlier—on November 22—he had written his will, which was brought to court on March 27, 1684. He was tough until the end, as shown by this part of his will:—

"Whereas my late father, by his last will, bequeathed to me his farm called Bishop's or Chickering's farm, I do give the said farm to my five sons, to be equally divided among them."

"Since my late father, in his will, left me his farm known as Bishop's or Chickering's farm, I now give that farm to my five sons to be divided equally among them."

The will of his father had been declared invalid on that point, and others. The whole thing had been conclusively settled for years; but he never would recognize the fact. It is a singular instance of an obstinacy of will completely superseding and suppressing the reason and the judgment. He lost the perception of the actual and real, in clinging to what he felt to be the right.

The terms of his father's will had been deemed invalid on that point and others. This issue had been resolved for years, but he refused to accept it. It's a unique example of stubbornness completely overshadowing reason and judgment. He lost sight of what was real and true by holding on to what he believed was right.

Every association and sentiment of his soul had been shocked by the wrongs he had suffered. He could not walk over his fields, or look from his windows, without feeling that a property which his father had given to his brother had, in a manner that he knew would have been as odious to that father as it was to him, passed into the hands of strangers, and been used as a wedge on which everybody had conspired to deal blows,[i.93] driving it into the centre of his patrimonial acres, splitting and rending them through and through. He brooded over the thought, until, whenever his mind was turned to it, his reason was dethroned, his heart broken, and under its weight he fell into his grave.

Every bond and feeling in his soul had been jolted by the injustices he had faced. He couldn’t walk through his fields or look out his windows without realizing that a property his father had given to his brother had, in a way that would have been just as repulsive to that father as it was to him, fallen into the hands of strangers and been used as a tool for everyone to conspire against him, driving it deep into the heart of his family land, splitting and tearing it apart. He obsessed over this thought, until it left him unhinged, his heart shattered, and under that burden, he fell into despair.[i.93]

An argument addressed by him to the court and jury, in one of the innumerable trials of the Bishop-farm case, is among the papers on file. It appears to be a verbatim report of the speech as it was delivered at the time, and proves him to have been a man of talents. It is courteous, gentlemanly, and, I might say, scholarly in its diction and style, skilful in its statements, and forcible in its arguments.

An argument he presented to the court and jury during one of the many trials of the Bishop-farm case is among the documents on file. It seems to be a word-for-word account of the speech as it was delivered back then, showing him to be a talented individual. It is polite, gentlemanly, and I would say, scholarly in its language and style, skillful in its claims, and powerful in its arguments.

In all the earlier trials, the juries uniformly gave verdicts in favor of Endicott; but Allen carried the cases up to the General Court, which exercised a final and unrestrained jurisdiction in all matters referred to it. It usually appointed committees or commissioners to examine such questions, accepted their reports, and made them binding. Lands were thus disposed of without the agency, and against the decisions, of juries. In his arguments addressed to the General Court, Zerubabel Endicott protested against this jurisdiction, by which his lands were taken from him "by a committee, in an arbitrary way, being neither bound nor sworn by law or evidence." He boldly denounced it.

In all the previous trials, the juries consistently ruled in favor of Endicott; however, Allen took the cases to the General Court, which had the final say in all matters brought before it. The court typically assigned committees or commissioners to look into these issues, accepted their findings, and made them mandatory. As a result, land was transferred without the involvement of, and contrary to the decisions made by, juries. In his arguments to the General Court, Zerubabel Endicott objected to this jurisdiction, stating that his lands were taken from him "by a committee, in an arbitrary way, being neither bound nor sworn by law or evidence." He strongly condemned it.

"To be disseized of my inheritance; to be judged by three or four committee-men, who are neither bound to law nor evidence,—who are, or may be, mutable in their apprehensions,[i.94] doing one thing to-day, and soon again undoing what they did,—I conceive, to be judged in such an arbitrary way is repugnant to the fundamental law of England contained in Magna Charta, chap. 29, which says no freeman shall be disseized of his freehold but by the lawful judgment of his peers,—that is to say, by due process of law; which was also confirmed by the Petition of Right, by Act of Parliament, tertio Caroli I. And also such arbitrary jurisdiction was exploded in putting down the Star-Chamber Court; and the excessive fines imposed upon all such actings. See 'English Liberties,' as also the fourth and sixth articles against the Earl of Strafford in Baker's 'Chronicle,' folio 518."

"To be stripped of my inheritance; to be judged by a few committee members who have no obligation to follow the law or consider evidence—who can change their opinions, doing one thing today and then reversing themselves tomorrow—I believe that being judged this way is against the fundamental law of England outlined in Magna Carta, chapter 29, which states that no free person shall be deprived of their property except by the lawful judgment of their peers—that is, through due process of law; this was also reaffirmed by the Petition of Right, through Act of Parliament, tertio Caroli I. Additionally, this kind of arbitrary authority was eliminated when the Star Chamber Court was disbanded, along with the excessive fines imposed for such actions. See 'English Liberties,' as well as the fourth and sixth articles against the Earl of Strafford in Baker's 'Chronicle,' folio 518."

He closes one of his remonstrances thus:—

He ends one of his complaints like this:—

"The humble request of your petitioner to the Hon. Gen. Court, that, as an Englishman,—as a freeman of this jurisdiction; as descended from him who, in his time, sought the welfare of this commonwealth,—I may have the benefit and protection of the wholesome laws established in this jurisdiction: that, in my extreme wrong, I may have liberty to seek relief in a way of law, and may not, contrary to Magna Charta, be disseized of my freehold by the arbitrary act of two or three committee-men; the fundamental law of England knowing no such constitution, abhorring such administrations: and that the Hon. Court would release your petitioner from the injurious effects of the said committee's act, and explode so pernicious a precedent."

"I respectfully ask the Hon. General Court that, as an Englishman and a free citizen of this jurisdiction, and as a descendant of someone who sought the well-being of this commonwealth, I may receive the benefit and protection of the fair laws in this jurisdiction. That in my great distress, I may have the right to seek legal relief and not, contrary to the Magna Carta, be deprived of my property by the arbitrary decisions of two or three committee members; the fundamental laws of England recognize no such authority and reject such actions. I request that the Hon. Court frees me from the harmful effects of the committee’s actions and rejects such a dangerous precedent."

Zerubabel Endicott was an imprudent and obstinate man, but had the traits of a generous, ardent, and noble character. He was a physician by profession. His second wife—the widow, as has been stated, of Rev. Antipas Newman, of Wenham, and daughter of[i.95] John Winthrop, Jr., governor of Connecticut—survived him. Although he left five sons, the name, at one time, was borne by a single descendant only, a lad of seven years of age,—Samuel, a grandson of Zerubabel. On him it hung suspended, but he saved it. From that boy, those who bear the name in New England have been derived. We rejoice to believe that they will preserve it, and keep its honor bright.

Zerubabel Endicott was a reckless and stubborn man, but he had the qualities of a generous, passionate, and noble character. He worked as a physician. His second wife—the widow of Rev. Antipas Newman from Wenham and the daughter of[i.95] John Winthrop, Jr., the governor of Connecticut—outlived him. Even though he had five sons, the name was, at one point, carried by only one descendant, a seven-year-old boy—Samuel, Zerubabel's grandson. It rested on him, but he saved it. From that boy, all those who carry the name in New England are descended. We are glad to believe they will maintain it and keep its reputation strong.

Winthrop was recognized as the great leader in the early history of the Colony. He had a combination of qualities that marked him as a wise and good man, and gave him precedence. The eminent dignity of his character was admired and revered by all. No one was more ready to admit this than Endicott. Never were men placed towards each other in relations more severely testing their magnanimity, and none ever bore the test more perfectly. But Endicott was, after all, the most complete representative man of that generation. He was thoroughly identified with the people, participating in their virtues and in their defects. He was a strict religionist, a sturdy Puritan, a firm administrator of the law; at the same time, there are indications that he was of a genial spirit. He was personally brave, and officially intrepid. His administration of the government required nerve, and he had it. Sometimes the ardor of his temperament put him for a moment off his guard; but he was quick to acknowledge his error. He was true to the people, who never faltered in their fidelity to him. The author of "Wonder-working Providence" de[i.96]scribed him as "a fit instrument to begin the wilderness worke, of courage bold undaunted, yet sociable and of a cheerful spirit." I have presented some instances of his kind and pleasant relations with his workmen and neighbors. His name will ever be held in honored remembrance in this vicinity, where his useful enterprise was appreciated; and his descendants in our day, and to the present time, have contributed to the prosperity and the adornment of the community.

Winthrop was recognized as the great leader in the early history of the Colony. He had a mix of qualities that made him a wise and good man, giving him an edge over others. The respected dignity of his character was admired and revered by everyone. No one was more willing to acknowledge this than Endicott. Never have two people been placed in a relationship that tested their generosity more, and none have passed that test more perfectly. But Endicott was, after all, the most complete representative of that generation. He was fully connected with the people, sharing in their strengths and weaknesses. He was a strict religious man, a strong Puritan, and a firm enforcer of the law; at the same time, there are signs that he had a friendly spirit. He was personally brave and officially fearless. His leadership of the government required guts, and he had it. Sometimes the intensity of his character would catch him off guard for a moment, but he was quick to admit his mistakes. He was loyal to the people, who never wavered in their loyalty to him. The author of "Wonder-working Providence" described him as "a fit instrument to begin the wilderness worke, of courage bold undaunted, yet sociable and of a cheerful spirit." I have provided examples of his kind and friendly relationships with his workers and neighbors. His name will always be remembered with honor in this area, where his valuable work was appreciated; and his descendants today have continued to contribute to the prosperity and beautification of the community.

It is not unlikely, that hostile feelings towards the Nurses, which contributed afterwards to serious results, may have been engendered in this long-continued land quarrel. There is evidence that no such feeling existed on the part of the Endicotts: but there were many others interested; for, by testimony at the trials and in outside discussions, the whole community had become more or less implicated in the strife. The Nurses, as holding the ground and having to bear the brunt of defending it in all cases of intrusion, had a difficult position, and may have made some enemies. At any rate, this controversy was one of the means of stirring up animosities in the neighborhood; and an account of it has been deemed necessary, as contributing to indicate the elements of the awful convulsions which soon afterwards desolated Salem Village.

It's likely that the ongoing land dispute created negative feelings towards the Nurses, which later led to serious consequences. There’s evidence that the Endicotts didn’t share such animosity, but many others were involved; testimonies during the trials and other discussions showed that the entire community got caught up in the conflict. The Nurses, who were responsible for the land and had to defend it against intrusions, found themselves in a tough spot and might have made some enemies. Regardless, this controversy helped ignite tensions in the area, and it’s important to discuss it as it plays a role in understanding the terrible upheavals that soon devastated Salem Village.

When we reach the story, for which this account of the farms of the village and the population that grew up on them is a preparative, we shall come back to the Townsend-Bishop grant, and to the house, still standing, that he built and dwelt in, upon it. It may be[i.97] well to pause, and view its interesting history prior to 1692. While occupied by its original owner, the "mansion," or "cottage," was the scene of social intercourse among the choicest spirits of the earliest age of New England. Here Bishop, and, after him, Chickering, entertained their friends. Here the fine family of Richard Ingersoll was brought up. Here Governor Endicott projected plans for opening the country; and the road that passes its entrance-gate was laid out by him. To this same house, young John Endicott brought his youthful Boston bride. Here she came again, fifteen years afterwards, as the bride of the learned and distinguished James Allen, to show him the farm which, received as a "marriage gift" from her former husband, she had brought as a "marriage gift" to him. Here the same Allen, in less than six years afterwards, brought still another bride. In all these various, and some of them rather rapid, changes, it was, no doubt, often the resort of distinguished guests, and the place of meeting of many pleasant companies. During the protracted years of litigation for its possession, frequent consultations were held within it; and now, for twelve years, it had been the home of a happy, harmonious, and prosperous family, exemplifying the industry, energy, and enterprise of a New England household. A new chapter was destined, as we shall see, to be opened in its singular and diversified history. But we must return to the enumeration of the original landholders of the village.[i.98]

When we get to the story that this account of the village farms and the people who lived on them leads up to, we’ll revisit the Townsend-Bishop grant and the house that still stands today, where he built and lived. It might be[i.97] good to take a moment to look at its interesting history before 1692. While it was still owned by its original owner, the "mansion" or "cottage" hosted social gatherings among some of the most notable people of early New England. Here, Bishop, and later Chickering, welcomed their friends. This is where Richard Ingersoll's fine family grew up. It was also where Governor Endicott made plans to develop the area, and he laid out the road that leads to its entrance gate. Young John Endicott brought his young bride from Boston to this same house. Fifteen years later, she returned as the bride of the esteemed James Allen to show him the farm, which she had received as a "marriage gift" from her first husband and later brought as a "marriage gift" to him. Not long after, Allen brought another bride to the same house. Throughout these changes, it was undoubtedly a popular spot for distinguished guests and a gathering place for many enjoyable gatherings. During the long years of legal battles over its ownership, many meetings were held there; and for the past twelve years, it had been the home of a joyful, united, and thriving family, showcasing the hard work and spirit of a New England household. A new chapter was about to unfold, as we’ll see, in its unique and varied history. But first, we need to go back to listing the original landholders of the village.[i.98]

George Corwin came to Salem in 1638. He had large tracts of land in various places. He lived, a part of his time, on his farm in the village; is found to have taken an active part in the proceedings of the people, particularly in military affairs; and was captain of a company of cavalry. His great mercantile transactions probably led him to have his residence mostly in the town, first on a lot on Washington Street, near the corner of Norman Street, where his grandson the sheriff lived in 1692. In 1660, he bought of Ann, the relict of Nicholas Woodbury, a lot on Essex Street, next east of the Browne Block, with a front of about one hundred and fifty feet. Here he built a fine mansion, in which he lived the remainder of his days. He died Jan. 6, 1685, leaving an estate inventoried at £5,964. 10s. 7d.,—a large fortune for those times. His portrait is preserved by his descendants, one of whom, the late George A. Ward, describes his dress as represented in the picture: "A wrought flowing neckcloth, a sash covered with lace, a coat with short cuffs and reaching half-way between the wrist and elbow; the skirts in plaits below; an octagon ring and cane." The last two articles are still preserved. His inventory mentions "a silver-laced cloth coat, a velvet ditto, a satin waistcoat embroidered with gold, a trooping scarf and silver hat-band, golden-topped and embroidered, and a silver-headed cane." His farms in the vicinity contained fifteen hundred acres. His connections were distinguished, and his descendants have included many eminent persons. The name, by male[i.99] descent, disappeared for a time in this part of the country; but in the last generation it was restored in the female descent by an act of the Legislature, and is honorably borne by one of our most respectable families, who inherit his blood, and cherish the memorials which time has spared of their first American ancestor.

George Corwin arrived in Salem in 1638. He owned large amounts of land in various locations and spent part of his time living on his farm in the village. He was actively involved in local affairs, especially in the military, and served as captain of a cavalry unit. His significant business dealings likely kept him mainly in town, first residing on a lot on Washington Street near the corner of Norman Street, where his grandson, the sheriff, lived in 1692. In 1660, he purchased a lot on Essex Street from Ann, the widow of Nicholas Woodbury, located immediately east of the Browne Block, which had about one hundred and fifty feet of frontage. He built a beautiful mansion there and lived there for the rest of his life. He died on January 6, 1685, leaving an estate valued at £5,964. 10s. 7d., a substantial fortune for that era. His portrait is kept by his descendants, one of whom, the late George A. Ward, described his attire in the painting: "A fancy flowing neckcloth, a sash adorned with lace, a coat with short cuffs that reached halfway between the wrist and elbow; the skirts were pleated below; an octagonal ring and a cane." The last two items are still preserved. His inventory includes "a silver-laced cloth coat, a velvet one, a satin waistcoat embroidered with gold, a marching scarf and a silver hat-band, golden-topped and embroidered, and a silver-headed cane." His farms in the area totaled fifteen hundred acres. He had distinguished connections, and many prominent individuals are among his descendants. The name, through male[i.99] lineage, vanished for a time in this part of the country but was revived in the female lineage in the last generation through a legislative act and is now honorably held by one of our most respected families, who carry his bloodline and cherish the remnants that time has allowed to survive of their first American ancestor.

William Hathorne appears on the church records as early as 1636. He died in June, 1681, seventy-four years of age. No one in our annals fills a larger space. As soldier commanding important and difficult expeditions, as counsel in cases before the courts, as judge on the bench, and in innumerable other positions requiring talent and intelligence, he was constantly called to serve the public. He was distinguished as a public speaker, and is the only person, I believe, of that period, whose reputation as an orator has come down to us. He was an Assistant, that is, in the upper branch of the Legislature, seventeen years. He was a deputy twenty years. When the deputies, who before sat with the assistants, were separated into a distinct body, and the House of Representatives thus came into existence, in 1644, Hathorne was their first Speaker. He occupied the chair, with intermediate services on the floor from time to time, until raised to the other House. He was an inhabitant of Salem Village, having his farm there, and a dwelling-house, in which he resided when his legislative, military, and other official duties permitted. His son John, who succeeded him in all his public honors, also lived on his own farm in the village[i.100] a great part of the time. The name is indelibly stamped on the hills and meadows of the region, as it was in the civil history of that age, and has been in the elegant literature of the present.

William Hathorne shows up in church records as early as 1636. He passed away in June 1681 at the age of seventy-four. No one in our history has had a bigger impact. As a soldier leading significant and challenging missions, as a legal advisor in court cases, as a judge, and in countless other roles that required skill and intelligence, he was regularly called to serve the community. He was recognized as a public speaker, and I believe he is the only person from that time whose reputation as an orator has endured. He served as an Assistant, which means he was part of the upper house of the Legislature, for seventeen years. He was also a deputy for twenty years. When the deputies, who previously sat with the assistants, were separated into their own body, creating the House of Representatives in 1644, Hathorne was their first Speaker. He held that position, with occasional roles on the floor, until he moved up to the other House. He lived in Salem Village, owning a farm there, and had a house where he stayed when his legislative, military, and other official responsibilities allowed. His son John, who followed in his father's public roles, also spent a large part of his time on his own farm in the village[i.100]. The name is permanently linked to the hills and meadows of the area, as it was in the civil history of that era, and continues to be in today's elegant literature.

William Trask was one of what are called the "First Planters." He came over before Endicott, had his residence on Salem Farms, was a most energetic, enterprising, and useful citizen, and filled a great variety of public stations. He brought large tracts of land under culture, planted orchards, and established mills at the head of tide-water on the North River. He was the military leader of the first age of the plantations in this neighborhood, was captain of the train-band from the beginning, and, by his gallantry and energy in action, commanded the applause of his contemporaries. For his services in the Pequot Expedition, the General Court gave him and his associates large grants of land. His obsequies were celebrated, on the 16th of May, 1666, with great military parade; and the people of the town and the whole surrounding country followed his honored remains to the grave.

William Trask was one of the "First Planters." He arrived before Endicott, lived on Salem Farms, and was a very energetic, enterprising, and valuable member of the community. He held a wide range of public positions. He cultivated large areas of land, planted orchards, and set up mills at the head of tide-water on the North River. He was the military leader during the early days of the settlements in this area, serving as captain of the train-band from the start, and earned the admiration of his peers for his bravery and energy in action. For his contributions to the Pequot Expedition, the General Court awarded him and his associates large land grants. His funeral was held on May 16, 1666, with a significant military parade; people from the town and the entire surrounding area accompanied his honored remains to the grave.

Richard Davenport came to Salem in 1631. His first residence was in the town; but soon he was led to the Farms. In 1636, he received a grant of eighty acres; in 1638, of two hundred and twenty acres; and, in 1642, eighty acres more, to be divided between him and Captain Lothrop. Besides these, he received several smaller grants of meadow and salt marsh. Such grants were made only with the view of having[i.101] them duly improved; and it cannot be doubted that he was zealously engaged in agricultural operations. His town residence was on a lot reaching from Essex Street to the North River. Its front extended from the grounds now the site of the North Church to North Street. His house stood at some distance back from Essex Street. This estate was sold by his administrators, in 1674, to Jonathan Corwin, whose family occupied it until a very recent period. He left the town in 1643, and subsequently lived in what was afterwards Salem Village, until the public service called him away. He sold some of his estates, but retained others, on the Farms and in the town, to the time of his death. He continued the superintendence of his country estate, which seems to have been his family home, to the last. His military career gave him early distinction, and closed only with his life. In 1634, the General Court chose him "Ensign to Capt. Trask." He was concerned with Endicott in cutting out the cross from the king's colors. The following is from the record of a meeting of the court, Nov. 7, 1634: "It is ordered that Ensign Davenport shall be sent for by warrant, with command to bring his colors with him to the next court, as also any other that hath defaced the said colors." Davenport did not seem anxious to cover up his agency in this matter; for, when he offered his next child to baptism, he signified to the assembly that he was determined to commemorate and perpetuate the memory of the transaction, by having her christened "True[i.102] Cross." It was necessary to make a show of punishing Endicott and Davenport on this occasion, to prevent trouble from the home government. Soon after, we find the General Court heaping honors upon Davenport, and finally, in 1639, making him a grant of one hundred and fifty acres of land, specially noticing his services in the Pequot War, which appear to have elicited general applause. In some desperate encounters with the savages, seventeen arrows were shot "into his coat of mail," and he was wounded in unprotected parts of his person. He was twice deputy to the General Court. In 1644, the General Court organized an elaborate system of external defence, the whole based upon Castle Island, now Fort Independence, in Boston Harbor. From that point, hostile invasion by a naval force was to be repelled. Every vessel, on entering, was to report to the castle, be examined and subject to the orders of the commandant. It became the military headquarters of the colony, the protection and oversight of whose commerce were intrusted to the officer in command. This was the highest military station and trust in the gift of the Government. It was assigned to Richard Davenport; and he held it for twenty-one years, to the moment of his death. The country reposed in confidence upon his watchful fidelity. He put and kept the castle in an efficient condition. In 1659, as evidence of their satisfaction and approval of his official conduct, the General Court made him a grant of five hundred acres of land laid out in Lancaster. On the 15th of July, 1665, he was killed by[i.103] lightning, at his post. The records of the General Court speak of "the solemn stroke of thunder that took away Captain Davenport." The whole country mourned the loss of the veteran soldier; and the Court granted his family an additional tract of one hundred acres of land on the Merrimac River. He was in his sixtieth year at the time of his death. Of the company required to be raised in Salem for the Block-Island Expedition, in 1636, the three commissioned officers were furnished from the Farms,—Trask, Davenport, and Read. They were soldiers by nature and instinct, and to the end. The volleys of devoted, faithful, and mourning comrades were fired over their graves, with no great interval of time. United in early service, separated by the course of their lives, they were united again in death.

Richard Davenport arrived in Salem in 1631. His first home was in the town, but he soon moved to the Farms. In 1636, he received a grant of eighty acres; in 1638, two hundred and twenty acres; and in 1642, another eighty acres, to be shared with Captain Lothrop. In addition to these, he obtained several smaller grants of meadow and salt marsh. These grants were given with the expectation that they would be improved, and it’s clear he was actively engaged in farming. His town residence was a lot that stretched from Essex Street to the North River, with its front extending from what is now the North Church grounds to North Street. His house was set back from Essex Street. This estate was sold by his administrators in 1674 to Jonathan Corwin, whose family lived there until very recently. He left the town in 1643 and later lived in what would become Salem Village, until public duties took him away. He sold some of his properties but kept others in the Farms and town until his death. He managed his country estate, which seemed to be his family home, until the end. His military service earned him early recognition and lasted until he passed away. In 1634, the General Court appointed him "Ensign to Capt. Trask." He worked with Endicott to alter the king's colors. The following is from a court meeting record on November 7, 1634: "It is ordered that Ensign Davenport shall be summoned by warrant, with command to bring his colors with him to the next court, as well as anyone else who has defaced said colors." Davenport didn’t seem worried about his involvement; when he offered his next child for baptism, he indicated to the assembly that he wanted to commemorate the incident by naming her "True Cross." They needed to show that Endicott and Davenport faced consequences this time to avoid issues with the home government. Shortly after, the General Court honored Davenport and, in 1639, granted him one hundred and fifty acres of land, acknowledging his services in the Pequot War, which received widespread praise. In some fierce battles with the natives, seventeen arrows were shot "into his coat of mail," and he was injured in unprotected areas. He served twice as deputy to the General Court. In 1644, the General Court established a comprehensive system of external defense, centered on Castle Island, now Fort Independence, in Boston Harbor. From there, any naval invasion was to be thwarted. Every vessel entering was to report to the castle, undergo inspection, and follow the orders of the commandant. It became the military headquarters of the colony, with the oversight of its commerce entrusted to the officer in charge. This was the highest military position available from the government. Richard Davenport was appointed to this role and held it for twenty-one years until his passing. The country trusted in his vigilant loyalty. He maintained the castle in an effective state. In 1659, as a sign of their approval and satisfaction with his service, the General Court granted him five hundred acres of land in Lancaster. On July 15, 1665, he was struck and killed by lightning at his post. The General Court records mention "the solemn stroke of thunder that took away Captain Davenport." The entire country mourned the loss of this veteran soldier, and the Court awarded his family an additional one hundred acres of land along the Merrimac River. He was sixty years old at the time of his death. For the Block-Island Expedition in 1636, the three commissioned officers required from Salem were from the Farms—Trask, Davenport, and Read. They were born soldiers, devoted to duty until the end. The volleys of loyal, sorrowful comrades were fired over their graves shortly after. United in early service, they were separated by life's course but reunited in death.

Thomas Lothrop originally lived in the town, between Collins Cove and the North River. He became a member of the First Church in Salem, and was admitted a freeman in 1634. He soon removed to the Farms; and his name appears among the rate-payers at the formation of the village parish. For many years he was deputy from Salem to the General Court; and after Beverly was set off, as his residence at the time was on that side of the line, he was always in the General Court, as deputy from the new town, when his other public employments permitted. No man was ever more identified with the history of the Salem Farms. He contributed to form the structure of its society, and the character of its population, by all that[i.104] a wise and good man could do. During his whole life in America, he was more or less engaged in the military service, in arduous, difficult, and dangerous positions and operations; acting sometimes against Indians, and sometimes against the French, or, as was usually the case, against them both combined. He was occasionally sent to distant posts; commanding expeditions to the eastward as far as Acadia. He was at one time in charge of a force at Port Royal, now Annapolis, Nova Scotia. Increase Mather calls him a "godly and courageous commander." When the last decisive struggle with King Philip was approaching, and aid was needed from the eastern part of the colony to rescue the settlements on the Connecticut River from utter destruction, the "Flower of Essex" was summoned to the field. It was a choice body of efficient men, "all culled out of the towns belonging to this county," numbering about one hundred men. Lothrop, of course, was their captain. In August, 1675, they were on the ground at Hadley, the place of rendezvous. On the 26th of that month, Captain Lothrop, with his company, and Captain Beers, of Watertown, with his, after a vigorous pursuit, attacked the Indians in a swamp, about ten miles from Hatfield, at the foot of Sugar-Loaf Hill. Ten were killed on the side of the English, and twenty-six on the side of the Indians, who were driven from the swamp, and scattered in their flight; to fall, as was their custom, upon detached settlements; and continuing to waste and destroy, by fire and sword, with[i.105] hatchet, scalping-knife, torch, and gun. On the 18th of September, Lothrop, with his company, started from Deerfield, to convoy a train of eighteen wagons, loaded with grain, and furniture of the inhabitants seeking refuge from danger, with teamsters and others. Moseley, with his men, remained behind, to scout the woods, and give notice of the approach of Indians; but the stealthy savages succeeded in effecting a complete surprise, and fell upon Lothrop as his wagons were crossing a stream. They poured in a destructive fire from the woods, in all directions. They were seven to one. A perfect carnage ensued. Lothrop fell early in the unequal fight, and only seven or eight of his whole party were left to tell the story of the fatal scene. The locality of this disastrous and sanguinary tragedy has ever since been known as "Bloody Brook." In the list of those who perished by bullet, tomahawk, or arrow, on that fearful morning, we read the names of many village neighbors of the brave and lamented commander,—Thomas Bayley, Edward Trask, Josiah Dodge, Peter Woodbury, Joseph Balch, Thomas Buckley, Joseph King, Robert Wilson, and James Tufts. One of Lothrop's sergeants, who was among the slain, Thomas Smith, then of Newbury, originated in the village. His family had grants of land, including the hill called by their name.

Thomas Lothrop originally lived in the area between Collins Cove and the North River. He became a member of the First Church in Salem and was granted freeman status in 1634. He soon moved to the Farms, and his name shows up among the tax payers when the village parish was established. For many years, he served as a deputy from Salem to the General Court; and after Beverly was established, as he lived on that side of the line, he continued to serve in the General Court as the deputy from the new town whenever his other public duties allowed. No one was more closely associated with the history of the Salem Farms. He helped shape the community and the character of its residents in every way a wise and good man could. Throughout his life in America, he was engaged in military service, facing tough, challenging, and dangerous situations; sometimes fighting against Native Americans, sometimes against the French, or often both together. He was occasionally assigned to distant posts, leading operations as far east as Acadia. At one point, he led a force at Port Royal, now Annapolis, Nova Scotia. Increase Mather referred to him as a "godly and courageous commander." When the final battle with King Philip was nearing and support was needed from the eastern part of the colony to save the settlements on the Connecticut River from total destruction, the "Flower of Essex" was called to action. This was an elite group of capable men, "all chosen from the towns in this county," numbering about one hundred. Naturally, Lothrop was their captain. In August 1675, they gathered at Hadley, the designated meeting spot. On the 26th of that month, Captain Lothrop and his men, along with Captain Beers from Watertown, conducted a vigorous pursuit and attacked the Native Americans in a swamp about ten miles from Hatfield, at the base of Sugar-Loaf Hill. Ten English soldiers were killed, compared to twenty-six Native Americans, who were pushed out of the swamp and scattered in their retreat. As was their custom, they attacked isolated settlements and continued to raid and destroy using fire and weapons. On September 18, Lothrop and his men left Deerfield to escort a convoy of eighteen wagons carrying grain and supplies for residents seeking refuge from danger, along with teamsters and others. Moseley and his men stayed back to scout the woods and warn of approaching Native Americans; however, the stealthy attackers managed to surprise Lothrop as his wagons crossed a stream. They unleashed a deadly fire from the woods in all directions. The odds were seven to one. A terrible massacre ensued. Lothrop fell early in the uneven battle, and only seven or eight of his entire group survived to recount the tragic event. The site of this disastrous and bloody incident has since been known as "Bloody Brook." Among those who lost their lives to bullets, tomahawks, or arrows on that tragic morning were many neighbors of the brave and mourned commander: Thomas Bayley, Edward Trask, Josiah Dodge, Peter Woodbury, Joseph Balch, Thomas Buckley, Joseph King, Robert Wilson, and James Tufts. One of Lothrop's sergeants who was killed, Thomas Smith, originally from Newbury, had family roots in the village and was from a family that had land grants, including the hill that carried their name.

Captain Lothrop was as remarkable for the benevolence of his spirit and the tenderness of his nature as for his wisdom in council, energy in command, or gallantry in battle. Indeed, his character in private life[i.106] was so beautiful and lovable, that I cannot refrain from leading you into the recesses of his domestic circle. It presents a picture of rare attractiveness. He had no children. His wife was a kind and amiable person. They longed for objects upon which to gratify the yearnings of their affectionate hearts. He had a large estate. His character became known to the neighbors and the country people around. If there was an occurrence calling for commiseration anywhere in the vicinity, it was managed to bring it to his notice. Orphan children were received into his household, and brought up with parental care and tenderness. Many were, in this way, the objects of his charity and affections. Persons especially, who were in any degree connected with his wife's family, naturally conceived the desire to have him adopt their children. This was the case particularly with those who were in straitened circumstances. Others, knowing his disposition, would bring tales of distress and destitution to his ears. Some, perhaps, turned out to be unworthy of his goodness. In one instance, at least, where he had taken a child into his family in its infancy, touched by appeals made to his compassion by the parents, brought it up carefully, watched over its education, and become attached to it, when it had reached an age to be serviceable, the parents claimed and insisted on their right to it, and took it away, much against his will. But the good man's benevolence was not impaired, nor the stream of his affectionate charities checked, by the misconduct[i.107] or ingratitude of his wards or of their friends. His plan was to do all the good in his power to the children thus brought into his family, to prepare them for usefulness, and start them favorably in life. In the case of boys, he would get them apprenticed to worthy people in useful callings. At the time of his death, there were two grown-up members of his family, who appear to have been foisted upon his care in their earliest childhood. But there was no blame to be attached to them in the premises; and they were regarded by him with much affection. There were no relations of his own in this country in need of charitable aid or without adequate parental protection; and it was not strange that several of his wife's connections should have availed themselves of the benefit of his generous disposition. She herself gives a very interesting account of an instance of this sort, in a deposition found wrapped up among some old papers in the county court-house. The object of the statement was to explain how a connection of hers became domesticated in the family.

Captain Lothrop was just as notable for his kindness and gentle spirit as he was for his wisdom in discussions, decisive leadership, and bravery in battle. In fact, his private life[i.106] was so beautiful and lovable that I can’t help but take you into the heart of his home life. It paints a picture of rare charm. He and his wife, a kind and friendly woman, didn’t have any children but yearned for someone to share their love with. He owned a large estate, and his character became well-known among the neighbors and local community. Whenever something unfortunate happened nearby, it was sure to reach his ears. Orphaned children were welcomed into his home and raised with care and affection. Many were the recipients of his kindness and love. People connected to his wife’s family often felt inclined to ask him to adopt their children, especially those who were struggling. Others, aware of his generous nature, would share stories of hardship and poverty with him. Some may have turned out to be unworthy of his kindness. In one case, he took in a child from infancy after being moved by the parents’ pleas, raised it with love, oversaw its education, and grew attached to it. Yet, when the child was old enough to contribute, the parents insisted on taking it back, despite his strong objection. Nevertheless, the good man's compassion remained intact, and his flow of generous acts wasn’t dampened by the wrongdoings[i.107] or ingratitude of those he helped or their families. His goal was to do as much good as he could for the children brought into his home, preparing them to be useful and giving them a positive start in life. For boys, he would have them apprenticed to respectable people in practical trades. At the time of his death, there were two adult members of his family that he had taken in as small children. They bore no blame in this regard and were regarded with much affection by him. He had no relatives in the country who needed charity or lacked proper parental care, so it wasn’t surprising that several of his wife's relatives benefited from his generous nature. She herself provides a fascinating account of one such instance in a statement found among some old documents at the county courthouse. The purpose of the statement was to explain how one of her relatives became part of the family.

"When the child's mother was dead, my husband being with me at my cousin's burial, and seeing our friends in so sad a condition, the poor babe having lost its mother, and the woman that nursed it being fallen sick, I then did say to some of my friends, that, if my husband would give me leave, I could be very willing to take my cousin's little one for a while, till he could better dispose of it; whereupon the child's father did move it to my husband. My dear husband, considering my weakness, and the incumbrance I had in the family,[i.108] was pleased to return this answer,—that he did not see how it was possible for his wife to undergo such a burden. The next day there came a friend to our house, a woman which gave suck, and she understanding how the poor babe was left, being intreated, was willing to take it to nurse, and forthwith it was brought to her: but it had not been with her three weeks before it pleased the Lord to visit that nurse with sickness also; and the nurse's mother came to me desiring I would take the child from her daughter, and then my dear husband, observing the providence of God, was freely willing to receive her into his house."

"When the child's mother passed away, my husband was with me at my cousin's funeral, and seeing our friends in such a sad state—the poor baby having lost its mother and the woman who was nursing it falling ill—I said to some friends that if my husband would allow it, I would be happy to take my cousin's little one for a while until he could figure out what to do with it. The child's father then brought this up with my husband. My dear husband, recognizing my frailty and the burden I already had with our family,[i.108] kindly responded that he didn’t think it was possible for me to handle such a responsibility. The next day, a friend of ours, a woman who nursed children, came to our house. She understood how the poor baby was left motherless and, upon being asked, was willing to take care of it. Soon after, it was brought to her. However, it hadn’t been with her for three weeks before the Lord decided to visit that nurse with sickness as well; and the nurse's mother came to me asking if I would take the child from her daughter. My dear husband, seeing God's hand in this situation, was more than willing to welcome her into our home."

At the time when this addition was made to his family, there was certainly already in it another of his wife's connections, who had been brought there when an infant in a manner perhaps equally singular, and who had grown up to maturity. The particular "incumbrance," however, spoken of by her, related to another matter. She was an only daughter. Her father had died many years before, at quite an advanced age. Her mother, who was sickly and infirm as well as aged, was taken immediately into her family, and remained under her roof until her death. In her weak and helpless condition, much care and exertion were thrown upon her daughter. The only objection the captain seemed to have to increasing the burden of the household, by receiving into it this additional child with its nurse, resulted from conjugal tenderness and considerateness. It must be confessed that there are some indications of well-arranged management in the foregoing account. The friend who happened to[i.109] call at the house the "next day," and who was able to supply what the "poor babe" needed, certainly came very opportunely; and there was altogether a remarkable concurrence and sequence of circumstances. But all that he saw was a case of suffering, helpless innocence, and an opportunity for benevolence and charity; and in these, with a true theology, he read "a providence of God." That child continued, to the hour when he took his last farewell of his family, beneath his roof, and was an object of affectionate care, and in her amiable qualities a source of happiness to him and his good wife. It is stated that the children, thus from time to time domesticated in the family, called him father, and that he addressed them as his children. While they were infants, he was "a tender nursing father" to them. When fondling them in his arms, in the presence of his wife, he would solemnly take notice of the providence of God that had "disposed of them from one place to another" until they had been brought to him; and "would present them in his desires to God, and implore a blessing upon them."

When this addition was made to his family, there was already another of his wife's relatives living there, who had been brought in as a baby in a similarly unique way, and who had now grown up. However, the particular "burden" she mentioned referred to a different situation. She was an only daughter. Her father had passed away many years earlier, at quite an old age. Her mother, who was also elderly, sickly, and frail, moved in with her and lived under her roof until she died. Because of her mother's weak and helpless condition, much of the care and responsibility fell on her daughter. The only concern the captain seemed to have about adding this extra child and its nurse to the household came from a place of marital affection and consideration. It must be noted that there are signs of good organization in the aforementioned account. The friend who happened to [i.109] visit the house the "next day" and who was able to provide what the "poor babe" needed, arrived at just the right time; and there was, overall, a remarkable alignment of circumstances. But all he saw was a situation of suffering, innocent helplessness, and a chance for kindness and charity; and in this, coupled with his genuine faith, he interpreted it as "a providence of God." That child remained under his roof until the moment he said his final goodbye to his family, being an object of loving care and a source of joy for him and his caring wife. It is said that the children who came to live with them referred to him as father, and he called them his kids. When they were babies, he was "a tender, nurturing father" to them. While holding them in his arms, in front of his wife, he would solemnly acknowledge the providence of God that had "brought them from one place to another" until they arrived at his home; and "he would present them in his prayers to God and ask for His blessing upon them."

The picture presented in the foregoing details is worth rescuing from oblivion. Such instances of actual life, exhibited in the most private spheres, constitute a branch of history more valuable, in some respects, than the public acts of official dignitaries. History has been too exclusively confined, in its materials, to the movements of states and of armies. It ought to paint the portraits of individual men and[i.110] women in their common lives; it ought to lead us into the interior of society, and introduce us to the family circles and home experiences of the past. It cannot but do us good to know Thomas Lothrop, not only as an early counsellor among the legislators of the colony, and as having immortalized by his blood a memorable field of battle and slaughter, but as the centre of a happy and virtuous household on a New England farm. He made that home happy by his benignant virtue. Although denied the blessing of children of his own, his fireside was enlivened with the prattle and gayeties of the young. Joy and hope and growth were within his walls. He was not a parent; but his heart was kept warm with parental affections. He had a home where dear ones waited for him, and rushed out to meet and cling round him with loving arms, and welcome him with merry voices, when he returned from the sessions of the General Court, or from campaigns against the French and Indians.

The picture presented in the details above is definitely worth saving from being forgotten. These instances of real life, shown in the most private settings, represent a part of history that is, in some ways, more valuable than the public actions of official leaders. History has focused too much on the events of states and armies. It should also depict the lives of individual men and women in their everyday lives; it should take us into the heart of society and introduce us to the family dynamics and home experiences of the past. It benefits us to know Thomas Lothrop not just as an early advisor among the colony's lawmakers, or as someone who forever memorialized a significant battlefield, but also as the heart of a happy and virtuous household on a New England farm. He made that home joyful with his kind spirit. Although he did not have children of his own, his home was filled with the chatter and fun of young ones. Joy, hope, and growth thrived within his walls. He may not have been a parent, but his heart was full of parental love. He had a home where loved ones waited for him, running out to greet him with open arms and welcoming him with cheerful voices when he returned from sessions of the General Court or from campaigns against the French and Indians.

Besides these offices of beneficence in the domestic sphere, we find traces, in the local records, of constant usefulness and kindness among his rural neighbors. He was called, on all occasions, to advise and assist. As a judicious friend, he was relied upon and sought at the bedside of the sick and dying, and in families bereaved of their head. His name appears as a witness to wills, appraiser of estates, trustee and guardian of the young. He was the friend of all. I know not where to find a more perfect union of the hero and[i.111] the Christian; of all that is manly and chivalrous with all that is tender, benevolent, and devout.

Besides these acts of kindness at home, we see in local records that he was consistently helpful and generous to his rural neighbors. He was always called upon to give advice and lend a hand. As a wise friend, people trusted and sought him out at the bedsides of the sick and dying, and in families that had lost their heads. His name shows up as a witness to wills, appraiser of estates, trustee, and guardian of the young. He was a friend to everyone. I can't think of a better example of the perfect blend of a hero and the Christian; combining everything strong and noble with everything gentle, caring, and faithful.

Somewhere about the year 1650, after he had been married a considerable time, he revisited his native country. A sister, Ellen, had, in the mean while, grown up from early childhood; and he found her all that a fond brother could have hoped for. With much persuasion, he besought his mother to allow her to return with him to America. He stated that he had no children; that he would be a father to her, and watch over and care for her as for his own child. At length the mother yielded, and committed her daughter to his custody, not without great reluctance, trusting to his fraternal affection and plighted promise. He brought her over with him to his American home. She was worthy of his love, and he was true to his sacred and precious trust.

Somewhere around 1650, after he had been married for quite a while, he went back to his home country. His sister, Ellen, had grown up from early childhood, and he found her to be everything a caring brother could hope for. With a lot of persuasion, he asked his mother to let her come back to America with him. He explained that he had no children of his own and that he would be like a father to her, looking after and caring for her as if she were his own kid. Eventually, their mother agreed and handed her daughter over to him, though she did so with great reluctance, relying on his brotherly love and promised commitment. He brought her with him to his home in America. She deserved his love, and he stayed true to his deeply valued promise.

Ellen Lothrop became the wife of Ezekiel Cheever, the great schoolmaster; and I should consider myself false to all good learning, if I allowed the name of this famous old man to slip by, without pausing to pay homage to it. His record, as a teacher of a Latin Grammar School, is unrivalled. Twelve years at New Haven, eleven at Ipswich, nine at Charlestown, and more than thirty-eight at Boston,—more than seventy in all,—may it not be safely said that he was one of the very greatest benefactors of America? With Elijah Corlett, who taught a similar school at Cambridge for more than forty years, he bridged over the wide chasm between the education brought with them[i.112] by the fathers from the old country, and the education that was reared in the new. They fed and kept alive the lamp of learning through the dark age of our history. All the scholars raised here were trained by them. One of Cotton Mather's most characteristic productions is the tribute to his venerated master. It flows from a heart warm with gratitude. "Although he had usefully spent his life among children, yet he was not become twice a child," but held his faculties to the last. "In this great work of bringing our sons to be men, he was my master seven and thirty years ago, was master to my betters no less than seventy years ago; so long ago, that I must even mention my father's tutor for one of them. He was a Christian of the old fashion,—an old New England Christian; and I may tell you, that was as venerable a sight, as the world, since the days of primitive Christianity, has ever looked upon. He lived, as a master, the term which has been, for above three thousand years, assigned for the life of a man." Mather celebrated his praises in a poetical effusion:—

Ellen Lothrop became the wife of Ezekiel Cheever, the great schoolmaster, and I would feel untrue to all good learning if I let the name of this famous man go by without stopping to honor it. His record as a teacher of a Latin Grammar School is unmatched. Twelve years in New Haven, eleven in Ipswich, nine in Charlestown, and over thirty-eight in Boston—more than seventy years altogether—can we not say he was one of America's greatest benefactors? Alongside Elijah Corlett, who taught a similar school in Cambridge for over forty years, he connected the education brought by our forefathers from the old country to the education established here in the new world. They nurtured and kept the flame of learning alive during the dark ages of our history. All the scholars trained here learned from them. One of Cotton Mather’s notable works is a tribute to his respected mentor, coming from a heart filled with gratitude. "Although he dedicated his life to children, he never became childlike himself," but maintained his faculties until the end. "In the important task of shaping our sons into men, he was my teacher thirty-seven years ago and taught my betters over seventy years ago; so long ago that I must even mention my father's tutor among them. He was a traditional Christian—an old New England Christian; and I can tell you, that was as venerable a sight as the world has seen since the days of early Christianity. He lived as a master, a title that has been associated with the life of a man for over three thousand years." Mather praised him in a poetic tribute:—

"He lived to a great age without knowing any illness,
Until Time's scythe, waiting for him, became rusty. He lived and created; his work was tremendous,
But never declined to past perfect tense.
* * * * *
It's Corlett's efforts, and Cheever's, that we must acknowledge,
That you, New England, are not Scythia grown.

To our early schoolmasters, as Mather says, and the later too, I may add, it is owing, that the whole country did not become another Scythia.[i.113]

To our early teachers, as Mather says, and the later ones too, I’ll add that it’s thanks to them that the entire country didn’t turn into another Scythia.[i.113]

Ezekiel Cheever was in this country as early as 1637. He was then in New Haven, sharing in the work of the first settlement of that colony, teaching school as his ordinary employment, but sometimes preaching, and in other ways helping to lay the foundations of church and commonwealth. While there, he had a family of several children. The first-born, Samuel, became the minister of Marblehead. In 1650, he was keeping a school at Ipswich. About this time, he lost his wife. On the 18th of November, 1652, he married Ellen, the sister whom Captain Lothrop had brought with him from England. They had several children; one of them, Thomas, was ordained first at Malden, and afterwards at Chelsea. The old schoolmaster died on the 21st of August, 1708, aged ninety-three years and seven months. His son Thomas reached the same age. Samuel, the minister at Marblehead, was eighty-five years old at his death. The name of Ezekiel, jr., appears on the rate-list of the village parish as late as 1731, so that he must have reached the age of at least seventy-seven years.

Ezekiel Cheever was in this country as early as 1637. At that time, he was in New Haven, helping with the early settlement of that colony, working as a schoolteacher, but also preaching occasionally and contributing in various ways to establish the church and community. While there, he had several children. His firstborn, Samuel, became the minister of Marblehead. In 1650, he was running a school in Ipswich. Around this time, he lost his wife. On November 18, 1652, he married Ellen, the sister Captain Lothrop had brought with him from England. They had several children; one of them, Thomas, was ordained first in Malden and later in Chelsea. The old schoolmaster passed away on August 21, 1708, at the age of ninety-three years and seven months. His son Thomas reached the same age. Samuel, the minister in Marblehead, was eighty-five years old at his death. The name of Ezekiel, Jr. appears on the village parish's rate-list as late as 1731, so he must have lived to at least seventy-seven years.

The antiquarians have been sorely perplexed in determining the relationship of the Cheevers and Reas, as they appear to be connected together as heirs of the Lothrop property, in an order of the General Court of the 11th of June, 1681.

The historians have been really confused about figuring out the connection between the Cheevers and Reas, as they seem to be linked as heirs of the Lothrop property, according to an order from the General Court dated June 11, 1681.

The facts are these: Captain Lothrop married Bethia, daughter of Daniel Rea. He died without issue, and had made no will. As he was killed in battle, his widow undertook to set up a nuncupative[i.114] will. A snow-storm, on the day appointed to act upon the matter, so blocked up the roads, that neither Ezekiel Cheever nor his son Thomas, who had charge of his mother's rights, could get to Salem; and the court granted administration to the widow. The Cheevers demanded a rehearing: it was granted; and quite an interesting and pertinacious law-suit arose, which was finally carried up to the General Court, who decided it in 1681. The widow does not appear to have been actuated by merely selfish motives, but sought to divert a portion of the landed estate from the only legal heir, Ellen, the wife of Ezekiel Cheever, to other parties, in favor of whom her feelings were much enlisted. There is no indication of any unfriendliness between her and her "sister Cheever."

The facts are these: Captain Lothrop married Bethia, the daughter of Daniel Rea. He died without children and didn't leave a will. Since he was killed in battle, his widow tried to create a nuncupative[i.114] will. On the day they were supposed to act on it, a snowstorm blocked the roads so badly that neither Ezekiel Cheever nor his son Thomas, who was handling his mother's rights, could get to Salem, and the court granted administration to the widow. The Cheevers requested a rehearing, which was granted, leading to quite an interesting and determined lawsuit that eventually went to the General Court, which made a decision in 1681. The widow doesn't seem to have been motivated by purely selfish reasons; instead, she wanted to redirect a part of the estate from the only legal heir, Ellen, who is Ezekiel Cheever's wife, to other parties she felt strongly about. There’s no sign of any hostility between her and her "sister Cheever."

Lothrop's wife had become much attached to one of her connections, who had been brought into the family. Her husband, having been fond of children, had often expressed great affection for those of her brother, Joshua Rea. He had also sometimes, in expressing his interest in the Beverly Church, evinced a disposition to leave to it "his ten acre lot and his house upon the same," as a parsonage. Perhaps, if he had not been suddenly called away, he might have done something, particularly for the latter object. It appeared in evidence, from her statements and from others, that he had been importuned to make a will, and that it was much on his mind, particularly when recovering from a long and dangerous sickness the winter before his death; but he never could be[i.115] brought to do it. There was no evidence that he had ever absolutely determined on any thing positively or specifically. His widow, who seems to have been a perfectly honest and truthful woman, testified to a conversation that passed between them on the subject, as they were riding "together towards Wenham, the last spring, in the week before the Court of election." In passing by particular pieces of property owned by him, he indulged in some speculations as to what disposal he should make of this or that pasture or plain or woodland. But she did not represent that his expressions were absolute and determinate, but rather indicative of the then inclination of his mind. In another part of her statement, she said, "I did desire him to make his will, which, when he was sick, I did more than once or twice; and his answer to me was, that he did look upon it as that which was very requisite and fit should be done. But, dear wife, thou hast no cause to be troubled; if I should die and not make a will, it would be never the worse for thee; thyself would have the more." It is not difficult to understand the case as it probably stood in the mind of Captain Lothrop. Whenever the subject of making a will, and doing kind things for the Beverly parish, and the individuals in whose behalf his wife was so anxious, was brought up, he felt the force, as he expressed it, "of the duty which God required of a master of a family to set his house in order;" and he was no doubt strongly moved, and sometimes almost resolved, to gratify her wishes: but he remembered the[i.116] solemn promise he had made to his mother, as he parted from her for ever, and received his sister from her hands, and every sentiment of honor, and of filial and fraternal love, restrained him; and his mind settled into a conviction that it was his duty to allow his sister the benefit of the final inheritance of his property. As the particular persons to whom his wife wished him to make bequests were her relatives, and the law would give her an ample allowance in the use, for life, of his large landed property, she would be able to provide for them after his death, as he had been in the habit of doing.

Lothrop's wife had become very close to one of her relatives who had joined the family. Her husband, who loved children, had often shown great affection for those of her brother, Joshua Rea. He had also sometimes expressed interest in the Beverly Church, indicating a desire to leave them "his ten acre lot and his house upon the same" as a parsonage. Perhaps if he hadn't been taken suddenly, he might have done something for that cause. Evidence from her statements and others showed that he had been asked to make a will, which weighed on his mind, especially while recovering from a serious illness the winter before his death; however, he never managed to do it. There was no evidence that he had definitively decided on anything specific. His widow, who appeared to be an honest and truthful woman, recounted a conversation they had on the subject while riding "together towards Wenham, the last spring, in the week before the Court of election." As they passed certain properties he owned, he mused about what to do with this or that pasture or piece of woodland. But she noted that his comments were not absolute or definite; rather, they reflected his thoughts at the time. In another part of her statement, she said, "I did encourage him to make his will, which I brought up more than once when he was sick; and his response was that he thought it was something very necessary to do. But, dear wife, you have no reason to be concerned; if I should die without making a will, it wouldn't matter to you; you’d end up having even more." It's not hard to understand how Captain Lothrop probably felt about the situation. Whenever the topic of making a will and doing good things for the Beverly parish and the individuals his wife cared about came up, he sensed, as he put it, "the duty that God requires of a head of a family to get his affairs in order." No doubt he was strongly motivated and at times nearly resolved to fulfill her wishes, but he remembered the solemn promise he had made to his mother when he left her forever and handed over his sister to her. Every sentiment of honor and of love for his mother and sister held him back, leading him to believe it was his duty to let his sister benefit from the final inheritance of his property. Since the specific people his wife wanted him to leave money to were her relatives, and the law would ensure she had a good allowance to use his large estate for life, she would be able to take care of them after his death, just as he had been doing.

The General Court took a just view of the case, and decided that she should have the whole movable estate for her own "use and dispose," and the "use and benefit" for life of the houses and lands, "making no strip nor waste;" after her death, the same to go to Ellen, the wife of Ezekiel Cheever. The widow was to pay all debts due from the estate, and also twenty pounds to the children of her brother, Joshua Rea. The Court seemed to think, that, if any expectations had been excited in that quarter, she was fully as responsible for it as her late husband; and, as the Cheevers were to get nothing, while she lived, out of the estate, the Court required her to pay the sum just named to her nephews and nieces. They ordered Ezekiel Cheever to pay five pounds as costs for their hearing the case, which he did on the spot.

The General Court took a fair look at the case and decided that she should have the entire movable estate for her own "use and dispose," and the "use and benefit" of the houses and lands for her lifetime, "making no strip nor waste." After her death, everything would go to Ellen, the wife of Ezekiel Cheever. The widow was responsible for paying all debts owed by the estate, as well as twenty pounds to her brother Joshua Rea's children. The Court appeared to believe that if any expectations had been raised in that regard, she was just as accountable as her late husband. Since the Cheevers would receive nothing from the estate while she was alive, the Court required her to pay the specified amount to her nephews and nieces. They ordered Ezekiel Cheever to pay five pounds as costs for hearing the case, which he did immediately.

It may be mentioned, by the way, that the widow of Captain Lothrop was married again within eight[i.117] months of his death; but that was quite usual in those days. She and her new husband concluded that it would be troublesome to take care of Captain Lothrop's several farms. They preferred to live in the town. She was probably over sixty years of age. The conclusion of the whole matter was, that, in consideration of sixty pounds paid down, they surrendered all claim whatever to the "houseing and lands" left by Captain Lothrop, to Cheever and his wife. They conveyed them "free and clear of and from all debts owing from the estate of said Lothrop, and gifts or bequests pretended to be made by him, or by any ways or means to be had, claimed, or challenged therefrom by any person or persons whomsoever." The relict of Captain Lothrop died in 1688.

Just to note, the widow of Captain Lothrop remarried within eight[i.117] months of his death, which was quite common back then. She and her new husband decided that managing Captain Lothrop's several farms would be too much hassle. They chose to live in town instead. She was probably over sixty years old. Ultimately, they agreed to surrender all claims to the "housing and lands" left by Captain Lothrop to Cheever and his wife, in exchange for sixty pounds paid upfront. They transferred the properties "free and clear of and from all debts owed by the estate of said Lothrop, and gifts or bequests supposedly made by him, or by any other means that might be claimed or challenged by anyone." Captain Lothrop's widow passed away in 1688.

Ezekiel Cheever and his wife, having thus become possessed of all her brother's real estate, conveyed the lands belonging to it in Salem Village to their son, Ezekiel Cheever, Jr. He had, for some years, been living in the town of Salem, carrying on the business of a tailor. He was a member of the First Church, and appears to have been a respectable person. His dwelling-house stood on the lot in Washington Street occupied by the late Robert Brookhouse. He sold it to the Rev. Nicholas Noyes, on the 14th of April, 1684, removed to the village, took possession of the Lothrop farm, and was there in time to bear a share in the witchcraft delusion.

Ezekiel Cheever and his wife, after acquiring all of her brother's real estate, transferred the lands in Salem Village to their son, Ezekiel Cheever, Jr. He had been living in Salem for several years, working as a tailor. He was a member of the First Church and seemed to be a respectable person. His house was located on the lot in Washington Street that was occupied by the late Robert Brookhouse. He sold it to Rev. Nicholas Noyes on April 14, 1684, then moved to the village, took over the Lothrop farm, and was there in time to be part of the witchcraft hysteria.

In 1636, a grant of land was made to Thomas Gardner of one hundred acres. He came to this[i.118] country as early as 1624, and resided at Cape Ann. Subsequently he removed to Salem, and, with his wife, was admitted to the church. He was deputy to the General Court in 1637. His grant was in the western part of the township, and embraced land included within the limits of Salem Village. The name still remains on the same territory. His sons became proprietors of several additional tracts in the neighborhood. One of them, Joseph, is connected, in the most conspicuous and interesting manner, with our military history.

In 1636, Thomas Gardner was granted a hundred acres of land. He arrived in this[i.118] country as early as 1624 and lived at Cape Ann. Later, he moved to Salem and, along with his wife, joined the church. He served as a deputy to the General Court in 1637. His land grant was in the western part of the township and included land within the boundaries of Salem Village. The name still exists in the same area. His sons became owners of several additional parcels nearby. One of them, Joseph, is notably connected to our military history.

The destruction of Captain Lothrop and his company, on the 18th of September, filled the country with grief and consternation; and, as the year 1675 drew towards a close, the conviction became general, that the crisis of the fate of the colonies was near at hand. The Indians were carrying all before them. Philip was spreading conflagration, devastation, and slaughter around the borders, and striking sudden and deadly blows into the heart of the country. It was evident that he was consolidating the Indian power into irresistible strength. Among papers on file in the State House is a letter addressed to the governor and council, dated at Mendon, Oct. 1, 1675, from Lieutenant Phinehas Upham, of Malden. In command of a company, acting under Captain Gorham of Barnstable, who had also a company of his own, he had been on a scout for Indians beyond Mendon, which was a frontier town. Their route had been over a sweep of territory then an almost un[i.119]broken wilderness, embracing the present sites of Grafton, Worcester, Oxford, and Dudley. The result of the exploration is thus given: "Now, seeing that in all our marches we find no Indians, we verily think that they are drawn together into great bodies far remote from these parts." From other scouting parties, it became evident that this opinion was correct, and that the Indians were collecting stores and assembling their warriors somewhere, to fall upon the colonies at the first opening of spring. Further information made it certain, that their place of gathering was in the Narragansett country, in the south-westerly part of the colony of Rhode Island. There was no alternative but, as a last effort, to strike the enemy at that point, with the utmost available force. A thousand men were raised, 527 by Massachusetts, 315 by Connecticut, and 158 by Plymouth. Massachusetts organized a company of cavalry and six companies of foot soldiers, Connecticut five and Plymouth two companies of foot. All were placed under the command of Governor Winslow, of Plymouth. The winter had set in earlier than usual; much snow had fallen, and the weather was extremely cold. The seven companies of Massachusetts, under the command of Major Samuel Appleton of Ipswich, started on their march, Dec. 10. On the evening of the 12th, having effected a junction with the Plymouth companies, they reached the rendezvous, on the north side of Wickford Hill, in North Kingston, R.I. On the 13th, Winslow commenced his move upon the enemy. On the 18th,[i.120] the Connecticut troops joined him. His army was complete; the enemy was known to be near, and all haste made to reach him. The snow was deep. The Narragansetts were intrenched on a somewhat elevated piece of ground of five or six acres in area, surrounded by a swamp, within the limits of the present town of South Kingston. The Indian camp was strongly fortified by a double row of palisades, about a rod apart, and also by a thick hedge. There was but a single entrance known to our troops, which could only be reached, one at a time, over a slanting log or felled tree, slippery from frost and falling snow, about six feet above a ditch. There were other passages, known only to the Indians, by which they could steal out, a few at a time, and get a shot at our people in the flank and rear. Many of our men were cut off in this way. The allied forces had expected to pass the night, previous to reaching the hostile camp, at a garrison about fifteen miles distant from that point; but the Indians had destroyed the buildings, and slaughtered the occupants, seventeen in number, two days before. Here the troops passed the night, unsheltered from the bitter weather. The next day, Dec. 19, was Sunday; but their provisions were exhausted, and the supply they had expected to find had been destroyed with the garrison-house. There could be no delay. They recommenced their march, at half-past five o'clock in the morning, through the deep snow, which continued falling all day, and reached the borders of what was described, by a[i.121] writer well acquainted with it, as "a hideous swamp." Fortunately, the early and long-continued extreme cold weather of that winter had rendered it more passable than it otherwise would have been. But the ground was rough, and very difficult to traverse. They were chilled and worn by their long march, following winding paths through thick woods, across gullies, and over hills and fields. It was between one and two o'clock in the afternoon, and the short winter day was wearing away. Winslow saw the position at a glance, and, by the promptness of his decision, proved himself a great captain. He ordered an instant assault. The Massachusetts troops were in the van; the Plymouth, with the commander-in-chief, in the centre; the Connecticut, in the rear. The Indians had erected a block-house near the entrance, filled with sharp-shooters, who also lined the palisades. The men rushed on, although it was into the jaws of death, under an unerring fire. The block-house told them where the entrance was. The companies of Moseley and Davenport led the way. Moseley succeeded in passing through. Davenport fell beneath three fatal shots, just within the entrance. Isaac Johnson, captain of the Roxbury company, was killed while on the log. But death had no terrors to that army. The centre and rear divisions pressed up to support the front and fill the gaps; and all equally shared the glory of the hour. Enough survived the terrible passage to bring the Indians to a hand-to-hand fight within the fort. After a desperate struggle of nearly three hours, the[i.122] savages were driven from their stronghold; and, with the setting of that sun, their power was broken. Philip's fortunes had received a decided overthrow, and the colonies were saved. In all military history, there is not a more daring exploit. Never, on any field, has more heroic prowess been displayed. By the best computations, the Indian loss was at least one thousand, including the large numbers who perished from cold, as they scattered in their flight without shelter, food, or place of refuge. Of the colonial force, over eighty were killed, and one hundred and fifty wounded. Three of the Massachusetts captains—Johnson, Gardner, and Davenport—were killed on the spot. Three of the Connecticut captains—John Gallop, Samuel Marshall, and Robert Seely—also fell in the fight. Captain William Bradford, of Plymouth, was wounded by a musket-ball, which he carried in his body to his grave. Captain John Gorham, also of the Plymouth colony, was shortly after carried off by a fever, occasioned by the over-exhaustion of the march and the battle. Lieutenant Phinehas Upham, of Johnson's company, was mortally wounded. Great value appears to have been attached to the services of this officer. In the hurried preparation for the campaign, Captain Johnson had nominated his brother as his lieutenant. The General Court overruled the appointment. Johnson cheerfully acquiesced, and, in a paper addressed to the Court, assured them that he "most readily submitted to their choice of Lieutenant Upham." This single passage is an imperishable eulo[i.123]gium upon the characters of the two brave men who gave their lives to the country on that fatal but glorious day.

The destruction of Captain Lothrop and his company on September 18 filled the country with grief and shock. As the year 1675 came to an end, it became clear that the fate of the colonies was at a critical turning point. The Indians were overwhelming the settlers. Philip was spreading fire, destruction, and death across the borders and delivering sudden, deadly attacks deep into the territory. It was evident he was uniting Indian forces into an unstoppable power. Among the documents at the State House is a letter to the governor and council, dated October 1, 1675, from Lieutenant Phinehas Upham of Malden. Leading a company under Captain Gorham of Barnstable, who had his own company, Upham was scouting for Indians beyond Mendon, a frontier town. Their route took them through a stretch of nearly unbroken wilderness, including what are now Grafton, Worcester, Oxford, and Dudley. The results of the exploration were described as follows: "Now, seeing that in all our marches we find no Indians, we truly think they are gathered in large groups far away from here." Other scouting parties confirmed this belief that the Indians were stockpiling supplies and gathering warriors somewhere to attack the colonies at the first sign of spring. Further information made it clear that their assembly point was in the Narragansett area, in the southwestern part of Rhode Island. The only option left was to launch a final effort and strike at the enemy there with the greatest force possible. A thousand men were raised: 527 from Massachusetts, 315 from Connecticut, and 158 from Plymouth. Massachusetts organized a cavalry unit and six infantry companies, Connecticut formed five infantry companies, and Plymouth had two. All were commanded by Governor Winslow of Plymouth. Winter arrived earlier than usual; there was a heavy snowfall, and the weather was extremely cold. The seven Massachusetts companies, led by Major Samuel Appleton of Ipswich, began their march on December 10. On the evening of the 12th, after joining the Plymouth companies, they reached their meeting point on the north side of Wickford Hill in North Kingston, R.I. On the 13th, Winslow began his move against the enemy. On the 18th, the Connecticut troops joined him. His army was now complete; they knew the enemy was close, and they hurried to reach them. The snow was deep. The Narragansetts were entrenched on a somewhat elevated area covering five or six acres, surrounded by swamp, in what is now South Kingston. The Indian camp was strongly fortified with a double row of palisades about a rod apart and a thick hedge. There was only one entrance known to our troops, accessible only one at a time via a slanting log or fallen tree, slippery from frost and snow, about six feet above a ditch. There were other exits known only to the Indians, allowing them to sneak out in small numbers and target our soldiers from the sides and rear. Many of our men were taken out this way. The allied forces had planned to spend the night before reaching the enemy camp at a garrison fifteen miles away; however, the Indians had already destroyed the buildings and killed the seventeen occupants two days earlier. Thus, the troops spent the night exposed to the harsh weather. The next day, December 19, was Sunday; but their food supply was running low, and the provisions they expected to find had been destroyed with the garrison. There was no time to waste. They resumed their march at half-past five in the morning, struggling through the deep snow, which continued to fall all day, until they reached the borders of what a well-informed writer called "a hideous swamp." Thankfully, the intense cold of that winter made it somewhat easier to cross than it would have been otherwise. Yet, the ground was rough and very hard to navigate. They were exhausted and cold from the long march, following winding paths through dense woods, across gullies, and over hills and fields. Between one and two o'clock in the afternoon, with daylight fading, Winslow quickly assessed the situation and, with his decisive action, proved himself a great leader. He ordered an immediate assault. The Massachusetts troops took the lead; the Plymouth forces, with the commander-in-chief, were in the middle; and the Connecticut troops were in the rear. The Indians had set up a block house near the entrance, filled with sharpshooters who also lined the palisades. The soldiers rushed in, despite the deadly fire they faced. The block house indicated where the entrance was. Moseley’s and Davenport’s companies led the charge. Moseley made it through; Davenport fell under three fatal shots just inside the entrance. Isaac Johnson, captain of the Roxbury company, was killed on the log. But death held no fear for the troops. The central and rear divisions pushed forward to support the front line and fill the gaps, sharing in the glory of the moment. Enough survived the perilous entry to engage the Indians in close combat inside the fort. After a fierce struggle lasting nearly three hours, the savages were driven from their stronghold, and with the setting sun, their power was shattered. Philip's fortunes took a significant blow, and the colonies were saved. There has never been a more daring military exploit in history. Never has such heroic bravery been shown on any battlefield. By the best estimates, the Indian loss was at least a thousand, including the many who died from exposure as they fled without shelter, food, or refuge. Over eighty of the colonial forces were killed, and one hundred fifty were wounded. Three Massachusetts captains—Johnson, Gardner, and Davenport—died on the spot. Three Connecticut captains—John Gallop, Samuel Marshall, and Robert Seely—also fell during the battle. Captain William Bradford of Plymouth was wounded by a musket ball that he carried with him to his grave. Captain John Gorham, also from Plymouth, succumbed shortly after to a fever caused by the strenuous march and battle. Lieutenant Phinehas Upham of Johnson’s company was mortally wounded. His services were greatly valued. In the rush to prepare for the campaign, Captain Johnson had nominated his brother for the lieutenant position. The General Court overruled the appointment. Johnson accepted this gracefully and assured the Court in a letter that he "most readily submitted to their choice of Lieutenant Upham." This single moment stands as a lasting tribute to the characters of the two brave men who sacrificed their lives for the country on that fateful but glorious day.

Captain Gardner's company was raised in this neighborhood. Joseph Peirce and Samuel Pikeworth of Salem, and Mark Bachelder of Wenham, were killed before entering the fort. Abraham Switchell of Marblehead, Joseph Soames of Cape Ann, and Robert Andrews of Topsfield, were killed at the fort. Charles Knight, Thomas Flint, and Joseph Houlton, Jr., of Salem Village; Nicholas Hakins and John Farrington, of Lynn; Robert Cox, of Marblehead; Eben Baker and Joseph Abbot, of Andover; Edward Harding, of Cape Ann; and Christopher Read, of Beverly,—were wounded. An account of the death of Captain Gardner, in detail, has been preserved. The famous warrior, and final conqueror of King Philip, Benjamin Church, was in the fight as a volunteer, rendered efficient service, and was wounded. His "History of King Philip's War" is reprinted, by John Kimball Wiggin, as one of his series of elegant editions of rare and valuable early colonial publications entitled "Library of New England History." In the second number, Part I. of Church's history is edited by Henry Martyn Dexter. Church's account of what came within his observation in this fight, with the notes of the learned editor, is the most valuable source of information we have in reference to it. He says, that, in the heat of the battle, he came across Gardner, "amidst the wigwams in the east end of the fort,[i.124] making towards him; but, on a sudden, while they were looking each other in the face, Captain Gardner settled down." He instantly went to him. The blood was running over his cheek. Church lifted up his cap, calling him by name. "Gardner looked up in his face, but spoke not a word, being mortally shot through the head." The widow of Captain Gardner (Ann, sister of Sir George Downing) became the successor of Ann Dudley, the celebrated poetess of her day, by marrying Governor Bradstreet, in 1680. She died in 1713.

Captain Gardner's company was formed in this area. Joseph Peirce and Samuel Pikeworth from Salem, and Mark Bachelder from Wenham, were killed before they reached the fort. Abraham Switchell from Marblehead, Joseph Soames from Cape Ann, and Robert Andrews from Topsfield were killed at the fort. Charles Knight, Thomas Flint, and Joseph Houlton, Jr., from Salem Village; Nicholas Hakins and John Farrington from Lynn; Robert Cox from Marblehead; Eben Baker and Joseph Abbot from Andover; Edward Harding from Cape Ann; and Christopher Read from Beverly were all wounded. A detailed account of Captain Gardner's death has been preserved. The renowned warrior and the ultimate conqueror of King Philip, Benjamin Church, was involved in the fight as a volunteer, provided valuable assistance, and was wounded. His "History of King Philip's War" is reprinted by John Kimball Wiggin as part of his collection of beautiful editions of rare and significant early colonial publications called "Library of New England History." In the second volume, Part I of Church's history is edited by Henry Martyn Dexter. Church’s description of what he witnessed during this battle, along with the notes from the knowledgeable editor, is our most important source of information about it. He reports that during the battle, he encountered Gardner "among the wigwams at the east end of the fort,[i.124] moving towards him; but suddenly, while they were looking at each other, Captain Gardner collapsed." He immediately rushed to him. Blood was running down Gardner's face. Church lifted his cap and called him by name. "Gardner looked up at him but didn’t say a word, having been mortally shot through the head." The widow of Captain Gardner (Ann, sister of Sir George Downing) became the successor to Ann Dudley, the famous poetess of her time, when she married Governor Bradstreet in 1680. She passed away in 1713.

There is a curious parallelism between the first and the last great victory over the Indian power in the history of America. An interval of one hundred and sixty one years separates them. On the 19th of December, 1836,—the anniversary of the day when Winslow stormed the Narragansett fort,—Colonel Taylor received his orders to pursue the Florida Indians. It was a last attempt to subdue them. They had long baffled and defied the whole power of the United States. Every general in the army had laid down his laurels in inglorious and utter failure. He started on the 20th, with an army of about one thousand men. On the 25th, he found himself on the edge of a swamp, impassable by artillery or horses. On the opposite side were the Indian warriors, ready to deal destruction, if he should attempt to cross the swamp. He had the same question to decide which Winslow had; and he decided it in the same way, with equal promptness. The struggle lasted about the same time; and[i.125] the loss, in proportion to the numbers engaged, was about the same. The results were alike permanently decisive. Okee-cho-bee stands by the side of Narragansett, and the names of Josiah Winslow and Zachary Taylor are imperishably inscribed together on the tablets of military glory.

There is an interesting parallel between the first and last major victories over Native American forces in American history. There’s a gap of one hundred sixty-one years between them. On December 19, 1836—the anniversary of the day Winslow stormed the Narragansett fort—Colonel Taylor got his orders to go after the Florida Indians. This was a final effort to defeat them. They had long resisted the full power of the United States. Every general in the army had laid down their laurels in shameful and complete failure. He set out on the 20th, with an army of about one thousand men. By the 25th, he found himself at the edge of a swamp that could not be crossed by artillery or horses. On the other side were the Indian warriors, ready to attack if he tried to cross the swamp. He faced the same decision as Winslow did, and he made it just as quickly. The struggle lasted about the same amount of time, and[i.125] the loss, relative to the number of troops involved, was roughly the same. The outcomes were similarly decisive. Okee-cho-bee stands alongside Narragansett, and the names of Josiah Winslow and Zachary Taylor are forever etched together on the records of military honor.

Dr. Palfrey says that Captain Nathaniel Davenport was a son of "Davenport of the Pequot War." He was born in Salem, and brought up in the village. His name, with those of his brave father, and his associate in youth and in death Joseph Gardner, belongs to our local annals. They were both the idols of their men. Davenport was dressed, when he fell, in a "full buff suit," and was probably thought by the Indians to be the commander-in-chief. On receiving his triple wound, he called his lieutenant, Edward Tyng, to him, gave him his gun in charge, delivered over to him the command of his company, and died.

Dr. Palfrey mentions that Captain Nathaniel Davenport was a son of "Davenport of the Pequot War." He was born in Salem and grew up in the village. His name, along with those of his brave father and his lifelong companion, Joseph Gardner, is part of our local history. They were both heroes to their men. Davenport was wearing a "full buff suit" when he fell and was likely seen by the Indians as the commander-in-chief. After receiving his three wounds, he called his lieutenant, Edward Tyng, to him, entrusted him with his gun, handed over command of his company, and died.

There has been some uncertainty on the point whether Nathaniel Davenport was a son of Richard, the commandant at the castle. The fact that he was associated with William Stoughton, and Stephen Minot whose wife was a daughter of Richard Davenport, as an administrator of the estate of the latter, has been regarded as rendering it probable. Dr. Palfrey's unhesitating statement to that effect is, of itself, enough to settle the question. There is, moreover, a document on file which proves that he is correct. Nathaniel's widow had some difficulty in settling his estate, and applied to the General Court for its interposition.[i.126] Quite a mass of papers belong to the case. Among them is a bill of expenses incurred by her in connection with his funeral charges, such as, "twenty-one rings to relatives," and to those "who took care to bring him off slain, eight pounds;" and "for mourning for my mother Davenport, sisters Minot and Elliot, and myself, sixteen pounds." This latter item is decisive, as we know that two of Richard Davenport's daughters married persons of those names. It is a circumstance of singular interest, as showing by how slight an accident—for it is a mere accident—important questions of history are sometimes determinable. This item, so far as I have been able to find, is the only absolute evidence we have to the point that Richard was the father of Nathaniel Davenport; and it would not have been in existence, had not questions arisen in the settlement of the estate of the latter requiring the action of the General Court. The record of baptisms in the First Church at Salem, prior to 1636, is lost. The names of Richard Davenport's children, baptized subsequent to that date, are in the records of the Salem or Boston churches. As Nathaniel is understood to have been one of the earliest born, the record of his baptism was probably in the lost part of the Salem book.

There has been some uncertainty about whether Nathaniel Davenport was a son of Richard, the commandant at the castle. His connection with William Stoughton and Stephen Minot, whose wife was a daughter of Richard Davenport and who served as an administrator of Richard's estate, has been seen as likely proof. Dr. Palfrey's confident statement on this matter alone is enough to settle the issue. Additionally, there’s a document on record that confirms he is correct. Nathaniel’s widow faced some challenges in settling his estate and requested the General Court to intervene.[i.126] A significant amount of paperwork pertains to the case. Among these is a bill for expenses she incurred related to his funeral costs, including “twenty-one rings to relatives,” and “for those who ensured he was buried, eight pounds;” and “for mourning for my mother Davenport, sisters Minot and Elliot, and myself, sixteen pounds.” This last item is decisive, as we know that two of Richard Davenport's daughters married men with those names. It's a particularly intriguing circumstance, as it illustrates how even the smallest details—because it is a mere detail—can sometimes resolve important historical questions. As far as I have been able to find, this item is the only definitive evidence we have that Richard was the father of Nathaniel Davenport; and it wouldn’t have existed if questions hadn’t come up during the settlement of Nathaniel's estate that required action from the General Court. The baptism records from the First Church in Salem prior to 1636 are lost. The names of Richard Davenport's children, baptized after that date, are recorded in either the Salem or Boston church records. Since Nathaniel is believed to have been one of the earliest born, his baptism record was likely in the lost section of the Salem book.

It may be thought surprising, that so little appears to have been known concerning an officer of his rank and parentage, and whose death has rendered his name so memorable. To account for it, I must recur to the history of the Narragansett expedition. No military organization was ever more rapidly effected, or more[i.127] thoroughly and promptly executed its work. The commissioners of the three united colonies were satisfied that the Indian rendezvous at Narragansett, where their forces and stores were being collected and their resources concentrated, must be struck at without a moment's delay; that the blow must be swift and decisive; that it must be struck then, in the depth of winter; that, if deferred to the spring, all would be lost; that, if the Indian power was allowed to remain and to gather strength until the next season, nothing could save the settlements from destruction. Early in November, they formed their plan, and put the machinery for summoning all their utmost resources into instant action. On the 30th of November, the officers appointed for the purpose made return, that they had impressed the required number in the several counties and towns, fitted them out with arms, ammunition, clothes, and all necessary equipments; that the men were on the ground, ready to go forward. There was no time for recruiting, or raising bounties, or substitute brokerage; no time for electioneering to get commissions. The rank and file were ready: they had been brought in by a process that gave no time for canvassing for offices. A summons had been left at the house of every drafted man, to report himself the next morning. If any one failed to appear, some other member of the family, brother or father, had to take his place. The organizing and officering of this force must be done instanter. All depended upon suitable officers being selected. A company was wait[i.128]ing at Boston for a captain, and a captain must be found. Some one in authority happened to think of Nathaniel Davenport. His childhood and youth had been passed at Salem Village and on Castle Island: on reaching maturity, he had removed to New York, and been there for years in commercial pursuits. A short time before, he had returned to Boston, and engaged in business there. His father had been dead since 1665, and not many persons knew him,—only, perhaps, a few of his early associates, and the old friends of his father: but they knew, that, from his birth to his manhood, he had breathed a military atmosphere,—was a soldier, by inheritance, of the school of Lothrop, Read, and Trask; and it was determined at once to hunt him up. He was serving at Court; taken out of the jury-box in a pending trial; and placed at the head of the company. The accurate historian of Boston, Samuel G. Drake, says, "Captain Davenport's men were extremely grieved at the death of their leader; he having, by his courteous carriage, much attached them to himself, although he was a stranger to most of them when he was appointed their captain. On which occasion he made 'a very civil speech,' and allowed them to choose their sergeants themselves." He had no time to settle his accounts, arrange his affairs, or confer with any one, but led his company at once to the rendezvous. These circumstances, perhaps, partially explain why so little seems to have been known of him in Boston, or to local writers.[i.129]

It might be surprising that so little is known about an officer of his rank and background, especially since his death has made his name so significant. To understand this, I need to refer back to the history of the Narragansett expedition. No military organization was ever set up more quickly or executed its tasks more thoroughly. The commissioners from the three united colonies believed the Indian gathering at Narragansett, where their forces and supplies were being collected, needed to be attacked immediately; the strike had to be fast and decisive. It needed to happen then, in the middle of winter; delaying until spring would mean everything would be lost. If the Native American forces were allowed to stay and grow stronger until the next season, nothing could protect the settlements from destruction. In early November, they formulated their plan and initiated the process to summon all available resources right away. On November 30, the designated officers reported that they had gathered the necessary number of men from various counties and towns, equipping them with arms, ammunition, clothing, and all essential supplies; the men were on-site, ready to go. There was no time for recruiting, offering bounties, or finding substitutes; no time for political campaigning to get commissions. The rank and file were set: they had been assembled in a way that left no room for office-seeking. A notice had been left at the home of every drafted man, instructing him to report the next morning. If anyone didn’t show up, another family member, like a brother or father, had to take his place. The organization and leadership of this force had to happen immediately. Everything relied on selecting suitable officers. A company was waiting in Boston for a captain, and one needed to be found. Someone in authority thought of Nathaniel Davenport. He had spent his childhood and youth in Salem Village and on Castle Island; as he grew up, he moved to New York, where he worked in business for several years. Not long before, he returned to Boston and started a new business there. His father had passed away in 1665, and not many people knew him—only a few old friends and associates from his youth: but they understood that from birth to adulthood, he had been immersed in a military environment—he came from a line of soldiers, shaped by the teachings of Lothrop, Read, and Trask; and it was decided right away to track him down. He was serving at Court and was pulled from the jury in the middle of a trial to lead the company. The detailed historian of Boston, Samuel G. Drake, notes, “Captain Davenport's men were deeply saddened by their leader's death; he had, through his respectful demeanor, greatly won them over, even though most of them didn’t know him before he became their captain. On this occasion, he gave 'a very polite speech' and allowed them to choose their sergeants themselves.” He had no time to balance his accounts, sort out his affairs, or discuss anything with anyone, but he led his company directly to the gathering point. These circumstances likely explain why so little seems to have been recorded about him in Boston or by local writers.

Besides Captains Gardner and Davenport and the men whose names have been mentioned as killed or wounded, there were in the Narragansett fight the following from Salem Village and its farming neighborhood: John Dodge, William Dodge, William Raymond, Thomas Raymond, John Raymond, Joseph Herrick, Thomas Putnam, Jr., Thomas Abbey, Robert Leach, and Peter Prescott. There may have been others: no full roll is on record. The foregoing are gathered from partial returns miscellaneously collected in the files at the State House. The Dodges (sometimes the name is written Dodds, which appears, I think, to have been its original form), and the Raymonds (sometimes written Rayment), were, from the first, conspicuous in military affairs. A few words explanatory of their relation to the village may be here properly given.

Besides Captains Gardner and Davenport and the men who have been mentioned as killed or wounded, the following individuals from Salem Village and its surrounding farming area were involved in the Narragansett fight: John Dodge, William Dodge, William Raymond, Thomas Raymond, John Raymond, Joseph Herrick, Thomas Putnam, Jr., Thomas Abbey, Robert Leach, and Peter Prescott. There may have been others, as there is no complete roster on record. The names listed above are compiled from partial records collected in the files at the State House. The Dodges (sometimes spelled Dodds, which I believe was the original form) and the Raymonds (sometimes spelled Rayment) were prominent in military matters from the beginning. A brief explanation of their connection to the village may be appropriate here.

On the 25th of January, 1635, the town of Salem voted to William Trask, John Woodbury, Roger Conant, Peter Palfrey, and John Balch, a tract of land, as follows: "Two hundred acres apiece together lying, being at the head of Bass River, one hundred and twenty-four poles in breadth, and so running northerly to the river by the great pond side, and so in breadth, making up the full quantity of a thousand acres." These men were original settlers, having been in the country for some time before Endicott's arrival. This circumstance gave to them and others the distinguishing title of "old planters." The grant of a thousand acres, comprising the five farms above mentioned, was always known as "the Old Planters' Farms." The[i.130] first proprietors of them, and their immediate successors, appear to have arranged and managed them in concert,—to have had homesteads near together between the head of Bass River and the neighborhood of the "horse bridge," where the meeting-house of the Second Congregational Society of Beverly, or of the "Precinct of Salem and Beverly" now stands. Their woodlands and pasture lands were further to the north and east. An inspection of the map will give an idea of the general locality of the "Old Planters' Farms" in the aggregate—above the head of Bass River, extending northerly towards "the river," as the Ipswich River was called, and easterly to the "great pond," that is, Wenham Lake. Conant, Woodbury, and Balch occupied their lands at once. I have stated how Trask's portion of the grant went into the hands of Scruggs, and then of John Raymond. Palfrey is thought never to have occupied his portion. He sold it to William Dodge, the founder of the family of that name, known by way of eminence as "Farmer Dodge," whose wife was a daughter of Conant. A portion of the grant assigned to Conant was sold by one of his descendants to John Chipman, who, on the 28th of December, 1715, was ordained as the first minister of the "Second Beverly Society." He was the grandfather of Ward Chipman, Judge of the Supreme Court, and for some time President, of the Province of New Brunswick, and whose son of the same name was chief-justice of that court. He was also grandfather of the wife of the great merchant, William Gray,[i.131] whose family has contributed such invaluable service to the literature, legislation, judicial learning, and general welfare of the country. The Rev. Mr. Chipman was the ancestor of many other distinguished persons. The house in which he lived is still standing, near the site of the church in which he preached. It is occupied by his descendants, bearing his name, and, although much time-worn, has the marks of having been a structure of a very superior order for that day. The venerable mansion stands back from the road, on a smooth and beautiful lawn, bordered by a solid stone wall of even lines and surfaces. In these respects it well compares with any country residence upon which taste, skill, and wealth have, in more recent times, been bestowed.

On January 25, 1635, the town of Salem decided to grant William Trask, John Woodbury, Roger Conant, Peter Palfrey, and John Balch a tract of land, as follows: "Two hundred acres each, located at the head of Bass River, one hundred and twenty-four poles wide, running north to the river near the great pond, and so in width, making up a total of one thousand acres." These men were original settlers who had been in the area for some time before Endicott's arrival. This fact earned them and others the nickname "old planters." The one-thousand-acre grant, which included the five farms mentioned, became known as "the Old Planters' Farms." The[i.130] first owners and their immediate successors seem to have organized and managed the farms together, establishing their homes close to one another between the head of Bass River and the area near the "horse bridge," where the meeting house of the Second Congregational Society of Beverly, or the "Precinct of Salem and Beverly," currently stands. Their woodlands and pastures were located further north and east. An inspection of the map provides an idea of the general location of the "Old Planters' Farms" collectively—above the head of Bass River, extending north toward "the river," which was known as the Ipswich River, and east to the "great pond," meaning Wenham Lake. Conant, Woodbury, and Balch immediately occupied their lands. I mentioned how Trask's share of the grant ended up in the hands of Scruggs and then John Raymond. Palfrey is believed to have never lived on his portion. He sold it to William Dodge, the founder of that family, famously known as "Farmer Dodge," whose wife was a daughter of Conant. A part of the grant assigned to Conant was sold by one of his descendants to John Chipman, who was ordained as the first minister of the "Second Beverly Society" on December 28, 1715. He was the grandfather of Ward Chipman, who served as a Judge on the Supreme Court and was President of the Province of New Brunswick for a while, and his son of the same name was the Chief Justice of that court. He was also the grandfather of the wife of the prominent merchant, William Gray,[i.131] whose family has provided invaluable contributions to the literature, legislation, judicial knowledge, and overall well-being of the country. The Rev. Mr. Chipman was the ancestor of many other notable individuals. The house he lived in still stands, close to the church where he preached. It is now occupied by his descendants, who carry on his name, and while it has aged significantly, it shows signs of having been a high-quality structure for its time. The historic mansion is set back from the road, on a smooth, beautiful lawn, bordered by a solid stone wall with even lines and surfaces. In these respects, it compares well to any country residence that has received care, skill, and wealth in more recent times.

The dividing line between Beverly and Salem Village, as seen on the map, finally agreed upon in 1703, ran through the "Old Planters' Farms," particularly the portions belonging to the Dodges, Raymonds, and Woodbury. It went through "Captain John Dodge's dwelling-house, six foot to the eastward of his brick chimney as it now stands." At the time of the witchcraft delusion, the Raymonds and Dodges mostly belonged to the Salem Village parish and church. They continued on the rate-list, and connected with the proceedings entered on the record-books, until the meeting-house at the "horse bridge" was opened for worship, in 1715, when they transferred their relations to the "Precinct of Salem and Beverly."

The boundary between Beverly and Salem Village, as shown on the map, was finally settled in 1703 and ran through the "Old Planters' Farms," specifically the parts owned by the Dodges, Raymonds, and Woodbury. It passed through "Captain John Dodge's house, six feet east of his brick chimney as it currently stands." During the witchcraft panic, the Raymonds and Dodges primarily belonged to the Salem Village parish and church. They remained on the tax list and were involved in the proceedings recorded in the official books until the meeting house at the "horse bridge" opened for worship in 1715, at which point they changed their affiliation to the "Precinct of Salem and Beverly."

When Sir William Phipps got up his expedition[i.132] against Quebec, in 1690, William Raymond raised a company from the neighborhood; and so deep was the impression made upon the public mind by his ability and courage, and so long did it remain in vivid remembrance, that, in 1735, the General Court granted a township of land, six miles square, "to Captain William Raymond, and the officers and soldiers" under his command, and "to their heirs," for their distinguished services in the "Canada Expedition." The grant was laid out on the Merrimack, but, being found within the bounds of New Hampshire, a tract of equivalent value was substituted for it on the Saco River. Among the men who served in this expedition was Eleazer, a son of Captain John Putnam, who afterwards, for many years, was one of the deacons of the Salem Village Church.

When Sir William Phipps organized his expedition[i.132] against Quebec in 1690, William Raymond gathered a group from the local area; and the impression he made on the public with his skill and bravery was so strong and lasting that, in 1735, the General Court awarded a six-mile square parcel of land "to Captain William Raymond, and the officers and soldiers" under his command, and "to their heirs," for their outstanding service in the "Canada Expedition." The land was initially designated along the Merrimack River, but since it was found to be within New Hampshire’s boundaries, a similarly valued tract was given instead along the Saco River. Among those who served in this expedition was Eleazer, a son of Captain John Putnam, who later became one of the deacons of the Salem Village Church for many years.

The short, rapid, sharp, and sanguinary campaign against the Narragansetts seems to have tried to the utmost, not only the courage and spirit of the men, but the powers of human endurance. The constitutions of many were permanently impaired. As much fatigue and suffering were crowded into that short month as the physical forces of strong men could bear. We find such entries as this in the town-books:—"Salem, 1683. Samuel Beadle, who lost his health in the Narragansett Expedition, is allowed to take the place of Mr. Stephens as an innkeeper." A petition, dated in 1685, is among the papers in the State House, signed by men from Lynn, the Village, Beverly, Reading, and Hingham, praying for a grant of land, for[i.133] their services and sufferings in that expedition. The petition was granted. The following extract from it tells the story: "We think we have reason to fear our days may be much shortened by our hard service in the war, from the pains and aches of our bodies, that we feel in our bones and sinews, and lameness thereby taking hold of us much, especially in the spring and fall."

The short, intense, brutal, and bloody campaign against the Narragansetts really tested not only the courage and spirit of the men but also the limits of human endurance. Many people's health was permanently damaged. The amount of fatigue and suffering packed into that brief month was more than strong men could handle. We find entries like this in the town records:—"Salem, 1683. Samuel Beadle, who lost his health in the Narragansett Expedition, is allowed to take the place of Mr. Stephens as an innkeeper." A petition from 1685, found among the documents in the State House, was signed by men from Lynn, the Village, Beverly, Reading, and Hingham, asking for a land grant for[i.133] their service and suffering during that expedition. The petition was approved. This excerpt from it reveals their plight: "We believe we have reason to fear our lives may be significantly shortened by our hard service in the war, given the pains and aches in our bodies that we feel in our bones and muscles, and the lameness that often afflicts us, especially in the spring and fall."

While there is "reason to fear" that the days of many were shortened, there were some so tough as to survive the strain, and bid defiance to aches and pains, and almost to time itself. In a list of fourteen who went from Beverly, six, including Thomas Raymond and Lott, a descendant of Roger Conant, were alive in 1735!

While there is "reason to fear" that many people's lives were cut short, some were so resilient that they withstood the hardships, challenging both their aches and pains and almost time itself. In a list of fourteen who left Beverly, six, including Thomas Raymond and Lott, a descendant of Roger Conant, were still alive in 1735!

The grants of land made to these gallant men and their heirs amounted in all, and ultimately, to seven distinct tracts, called "Narragansett Townships." They were made in fulfilment of an express public promise to that effect. It is stated in an official document, that "proclamation was made to them, when mustered on Dedham Plain" on the 9th of December, just as they took up their march, "that, if they played the man, took the fort, and drove the enemy out of the Narragansett country, which was their great seat, they should have a gratuity in land, besides their wages." The same document, which is in the form of a message from the House of Representatives to the Council of the Province of Massachusetts, dated Jan. 10, 1732, goes on to say, "And as the condition has been performed, certainly the promise, in all equity and justice,[i.134] ought to be fulfilled. And if we consider the difficulties these brave men went through in storming the fort in the depth of winter, and the pinching wants they afterwards underwent in pursuing the Indians that escaped, through a hideous wilderness, known throughout New England to this day by the name of the hungry march; and if we further consider, that, until this brave though small army thus played the man, the whole country was filled with distress and fear, and we trembled in this capital, Boston itself; and that to the goodness of God to this army we owe our fathers' and our own safety and estates,"—therefore they urge the full discharge of the obligations of public justice and gratitude. They did not urge in vain. The grants were made on a scale, that finally was liberal and honorable to the government.

The land grants given to these brave men and their descendants totaled seven distinct areas, referred to as "Narragansett Townships." They were given as a fulfillment of a specific public promise. An official document states that "a proclamation was made to them when they gathered on Dedham Plain" on December 9, right before they started their march, "that if they acted bravely, took the fort, and drove the enemy out of the Narragansett region, which was their main stronghold, they would receive land as a reward in addition to their pay." The same document, which is a message from the House of Representatives to the Council of the Province of Massachusetts, dated January 10, 1732, continues, "And since the condition has been met, the promise, in all fairness and justice, should certainly be fulfilled. If we think about the challenges these brave men faced in storming the fort in the dead of winter, and the severe hardships they later endured while chasing the Indians who escaped through a terrible wilderness, known to this day in New England as the hungry march; and if we also consider that until this courageous but small army acted bravely, the entire region was filled with distress and fear, leaving us trembling in this capital, Boston itself; and that we owe our fathers' and our own safety and properties to the mercy of God toward this army,"—therefore they insist on the complete fulfillment of the obligations of public justice and gratitude. They did not ask in vain. The grants were provided on a scale that was ultimately generous and honorable to the government.

I have dwelt at this great length on the Narragansett campaign and fight, partly because the details have not been kept as familiar to the memory of the people as they deserve, but chiefly because they demonstrate the military genius of the community with whose character our subject requires us to be fully acquainted. The enthusiasm of the troops, when Winslow gave the order for the assault, was so great, that they rushed over the swamp with an eagerness that could not be restrained, struggling as in a race to see who could first reach the log that led into the fiery mouth of the fort. A Salem villager, John Raymond, was the winner. He passed through, survived the ordeal, and came unharmed out of the terrible fight.[i.135] He was twenty-seven years of age. He signed his name to a petition to the General Court, in 1685, as having gone in the expedition from Salem Village, and as then living there. Some years afterwards, he removed to Middleborough, joined the church in that place in 1722, and died in 1725. The fact that his last years were spent there has led to the supposition that he went from Middleborough to the Narragansett fight; but no men were drafted into that army from Middleborough. It was not a town at the time, but was organized some years afterwards. It had no inhabitants then. Philip had destroyed what few houses had been there, and slaughtered or dispersed their occupants.

I've spent a lot of time discussing the Narragansett campaign and battle, partly because the details haven't been as well remembered by people as they should be, but mainly because they showcase the military prowess of the community we need to understand fully. The troops' excitement when Winslow gave the order to attack was so intense that they charged across the swamp with an enthusiasm that couldn't be contained, racing to see who could reach the log leading into the blazing mouth of the fort first. A villager from Salem, John Raymond, was the winner. He made it through, endured the battle, and came out unharmed from the terrible fight.[i.135] He was twenty-seven years old. He signed a petition to the General Court in 1685, stating he was part of the expedition from Salem Village and was living there at that time. A few years later, he moved to Middleborough, joined the church there in 1722, and died in 1725. The fact that he spent his last years there has led some to believe he went from Middleborough to the Narragansett fight, but no men were drafted into that army from Middleborough. It wasn't a town at the time; it was established a few years later. There were no residents then. Philip had destroyed the few homes that existed and either killed or scattered the occupants.

Thus far our attention has been directed to that portion of the population of Salem Village drawn there by the original policy of the company in London to attract persons of superior social position, wealth, and education to take up tracts of land, and lead the way into the interior. It operated to give a high character to the early agriculture of the country, and facilitate the settling of the lands. Without taking into view the means they had to make the necessary outlays in constructing bridges and roads, and introducing costly implements of husbandry and tasteful improvements, but looking solely at the social, intellectual, and moral influence they exerted, it must be acknowledged that the benefit derived from them was incalculable. They gave a powerful impulse to the farming interest, and introduced a high tone to the[i.136] spirit of the community. They were early on the ground, and remained more or less through the period of the first generation. Their impress was long seen in the manners and character of the people. There was surely a goodly proportion of such men among the first settlers of this neighborhood.

So far, we've focused on the part of the population in Salem Village that was drawn there by the original plan from the company in London to attract people of higher social status, wealth, and education to settle on tracts of land and help explore the interior. This strategy helped elevate the early agriculture in the area and made it easier to settle the lands. Without considering the resources they had to invest in building bridges and roads, or bringing in expensive farming tools and nice improvements, but looking only at the social, intellectual, and moral impact they had, it’s clear that the benefits they brought were immense. They gave a significant boost to farming interests and elevated the overall spirit of the community. They were among the first on the scene and stayed involved, more or less, throughout the first generation. Their influence was evident for a long time in the behavior and character of the people. There were definitely a good number of such individuals among the original settlers of this area.

I come now to another class drawn along with and after the preceding,—the permanent, substantial yeomanry with no capital but their sturdy industry, doing hard work with their strong arms, and striking the roots of the settlement down deep into the soil by mixing their own labor with it. A glance at the map will be useful, at this point, showing the general direction by which the farming population advanced to the interior. All between the North and Cow House Rivers was, as now, called North Fields, and is still for the most part a farming territory. All north of Cow House River, westwardly to Reading and eastwardly to the sea, was originally known as the "Farms" or "Salem Farms." When the First Beverly Parish was set off in 1667, it took from the "Farms" all east of Bass River. As Topsfield and other townships were established, they were more or less encroached upon. The "Farmers" as they were called, although unorganized, regarded themselves as one community, having a common interest. The tide of settlement flowed up the rivers and brooks, sought out the meadows, and was drawn into the valleys among the hills.

I want to talk about another group that's connected to the one before— the hardworking farmers who don’t have much money but rely on their strong work ethic. They put in a lot of effort with their physical strength and establish their roots in the community by combining their labor with the land. A look at the map will help us understand how the farming population moved inland. Everything between the North and Cow House Rivers was, like today, known as North Fields, and it mostly remains a farming area. Everything north of Cow House River, extending west to Reading and east to the sea, was originally called the "Farms" or "Salem Farms." When the First Beverly Parish was formed in 1667, it took the land from the "Farms" that was east of Bass River. As Topsfield and other towns were created, they gradually encroached upon this area. The "Farmers," as they were known, although not formally organized, saw themselves as part of one community with shared interests. The wave of settlement moved up the rivers and streams, sought out the meadows, and settled in the valleys among the hills.

John Porter, called "Farmer Porter," came with[i.137] his sons from Hingham, and bought up lands to the north of Duck or Crane River. His family before long held among them more land, it is probable, than any other. He served many years as deputy in the General Court, first from Hingham and then from Salem. He is spoken of in the colonial records of Massachusetts as "of good repute for piety, integrity, and estate." The Barneys, Leaches, and others went eastwardly towards Bass River. The Putnams followed up Beaver Brook to Beaver Dam, and spread out towards the north and west; while Richard Hutchinson turned southerly to the interval between Whipple and Hathorne Hills, bought the Stileman grant, and cleared the beautiful meadows where the old village meeting-house afterwards stood. He was a vigorous and intelligent agriculturist, and a man of character. He died in 1681, at eighty years of age, leaving a large and well-improved estate. His will has this item: I give "five acres of land to Black Peter, my servant." He had given fine farms to his children severally, many years before his death. His second wife, who survived him, had no children. He had come by her into possession of a valuable addition to his estate. After distributing his property, and providing legacies for children and grandchildren, his will left it to the option of his widow to spend the residue of her days either in the family of his son Joseph, or elsewhere; if she should prefer to live elsewhere, then she should receive back, in her own right, all the property she had originally owned; if she continued[i.138] to live to her death in Joseph's family, then her property was to go to him and his heirs. This, I think, shows that he was as sagacious as he was just.

John Porter, known as "Farmer Porter," came with[i.137] his sons from Hingham and purchased land north of Duck or Crane River. Before long, his family owned more land than likely anyone else in the area. He served as a deputy in the General Court for many years, first from Hingham and later from Salem. Colonial records of Massachusetts describe him as "of good reputation for piety, integrity, and wealth." The Barneys, Leaches, and others moved eastward toward Bass River. The Putnams followed Beaver Brook to Beaver Dam, expanding north and west, while Richard Hutchinson headed south to the area between Whipple and Hathorne Hills, bought the Stileman grant, and cleared the lovely meadows where the old village meeting house eventually stood. He was a strong and capable farmer and a man of good character. He died in 1681 at eighty years old, leaving behind a large and well-maintained estate. His will included this note: I give "five acres of land to Black Peter, my servant." Many years before his death, he had given substantial farms to each of his children. His second wife, who outlived him, had no children. He had acquired a valuable addition to his estate through her. After distributing his property and providing for his children and grandchildren, his will allowed his widow to choose to live either with his son Joseph's family or elsewhere; if she chose to live elsewhere, she would regain all the property she had originally owned. If she chose to stay with Joseph's family until her death, then her property would go to him and his heirs. I think this shows that he was as wise as he was fair.

Richard Ingersoll came from Bedfordshire in England in 1629, bringing letters of recommendation from Matthew Cradock to Governor Endicott. After living awhile in town, a tract of land of eighty acres was granted to him, on the east side of Wooleston River, opposite the site of Danversport, at a place called, after him, Ingersoll's Point. He there proceeded to clear and break ground, plant corn, fence in his land, and make other improvements. He also carried on a fishery. Subsequently he leased the Townsend Bishop farm, where he lived several years. He died in 1644. Not long before his death, he purchased, jointly with his son-in-law Haynes, the Weston grant. His half of it he bequeathed to his son Nathaniel. He was evidently a man of real dignity and worth, enjoying the friendship of the best men of his day. Governor Endicott and Townsend Bishop were with him in his last sickness, and witnesses to his will. His widow married John Knight of Newbury. In a legal instrument filed among the papers connected with a case of land title, dated twenty-seven years after her first husband's death, she expresses in very striking language the tender affection and respect with which she still cherished his memory.

Richard Ingersoll came from Bedfordshire, England, in 1629, bringing letters of recommendation from Matthew Cradock to Governor Endicott. After living in town for a while, he was granted eighty acres of land on the east side of Wooleston River, across from where Danversport is now, at a place called Ingersoll's Point, named after him. He began to clear the land, plant corn, build fences, and make other improvements. He also operated a fishery. Later, he leased the Townsend Bishop farm, where he lived for several years. He died in 1644. Not long before he passed away, he bought the Weston grant with his son-in-law Haynes. He left his half to his son Nathaniel. He was clearly a person of real dignity and value, enjoying the friendship of the most respected men of his time. Governor Endicott and Townsend Bishop were with him during his final illness and witnessed his will. His widow married John Knight of Newbury. In a legal document filed among the papers related to a land title case, dated twenty-seven years after her first husband's death, she expressed in very heartfelt language the deep affection and respect with which she still held his memory.

William Haynes married Sarah, daughter of Richard Ingersoll, and occupied his half of the Weston grant. In company with his brother, Richard Haynes, he[i.139] had before bought of Townsend Bishop five hundred and forty acres, covering a considerable part of the northern end of the village territory. They sold one-third part of it to Abraham Page. Page sold to Simon Bradstreet, and John Porter bought all the three parts from the Hayneses and Bradstreet. It long constituted a portion of the great landed property of the Porter family. These facts show that William Haynes was a person of means; and the manner in which he is uniformly spoken of proves that he was regarded with singular respect and esteem. He died about 1650, and his son Thomas became subsequently a leading man in the village.

William Haynes married Sarah, the daughter of Richard Ingersoll, and took ownership of his share of the Weston grant. Together with his brother, Richard Haynes, he had previously bought five hundred and forty acres from Townsend Bishop, which included a significant part of the northern section of the village area. They sold a third of that land to Abraham Page. Page then sold it to Simon Bradstreet, and John Porter purchased all three pieces from the Haynes brothers and Bradstreet. This land eventually became part of the extensive property held by the Porter family. These details indicate that William Haynes was financially well-off, and the way he is consistently referred to suggests he was held in high regard and respect. He passed away around 1650, and his son Thomas later became a prominent figure in the village.

There has been uncertainty where William Haynes came from, or to what family of the name he belonged. Among the papers of the Ingersoll family, it has recently been found that he is mentioned as "brother to Lieutenant-Governor Haynes." There seems to be no other person to whom this language can refer than John Haynes, who, after being Governor of Massachusetts, removed to Connecticut where he was governor and deputy-governor, in alternate years, to the day of his death. John Haynes, as Winthrop informs us, was a gentleman of "great estate." His property in England is stated to have yielded a thousand pounds per annum. Dr. Palfrey says he was "a man of family as well as fortune; and the dignified and courteous manners, which testified to the care bestowed on his early nurture, won popularity by their graciousness, at the same time that they diffused a refining[i.140] influence by their example." If William of the village was brother to John of Connecticut, the fact that he and his brother Richard could make such large purchases of lands, and the remarkable respect manifested towards him, are well accounted for. The Ingersoll family traditions and entries would seem to be the highest authority on such a point.

There has been uncertainty about where William Haynes came from or which family he belonged to. Recent papers from the Ingersoll family mention him as "brother to Lieutenant-Governor Haynes." The only person this could refer to is John Haynes, who, after being Governor of Massachusetts, moved to Connecticut where he served as governor and deputy-governor in alternating years until his death. According to Winthrop, John Haynes was a gentleman of "great estate." His property in England was said to have brought in a thousand pounds a year. Dr. Palfrey described him as "a man of family as well as fortune; and his dignified and courteous manners, shaped by careful upbringing, earned popularity through their graciousness, while also spreading a refining[i.140] influence by example." If William from the village was indeed John of Connecticut's brother, then their ability to make significant land purchases and the considerable respect shown towards him are easily explained. The traditions and records of the Ingersoll family would seem to be the strongest authority on this matter.

Job Swinnerton was a brother of John who for many years was the principal physician in the town of Salem. He had several grants of land, and was a worthy, peaceable, unobtrusive citizen. He seems to have kept out of the heat of the various contentions that occurred in the village; and, although his influence was sometimes decisively put forth, he evidently did nothing to aggravate them. He died April 11, 1689, over eighty-eight years of age. He had a large family, and his descendants continue the name in the village to this day. Daniel Rea came originally to Plymouth, and in 1630 bought a dwelling-house, garden, and "all the privileges thereunto belonging," in that town. In 1632 he removed to Salem, and at once became a leading man in the management of town affairs. He had a grant of one hundred and sixty acres, which he occupied and cultivated till his death in 1662. He had but two children: one, the wife of Captain Lothrop; the other, Joshua Rea, became the founder of a large family who acted conspicuously in the affairs of the village for several generations. Jacob Barney was an original grantee, and for several years a deputy. His son of[i.141] the same name became a large landholder, and, on the 5th of April, 1692, at the very moment when the witchcraft delusion was at its height, gave two acres conveniently situated for the erection of a schoolhouse. He conveyed it to inhabitants of the neighborhood to be used for that purpose, mentioning them severally by name. I give the list, as it shows who were the principal people thereabouts at the time: "Mr. Israel Porter; Sergeant John Leach; Cornet Nathaniel Howard, Sr.; Corporal Joseph Herrick, Sr.; Benjamin Porter; Joshua Rea, Sr.; Thomas Raymond, Sr.; Edward Bishop, secundus; John Trask, Jr.; John Creesy; Joshua Rea, Jr.; John Rea; John Flint, Sr." Lawrence Leach received a grant of one hundred acres; and others of the same name and family had similar evidence that they were regarded as valuable accessions to the population. William Dodge and Richard Raymond had grants of sixty acres each; Humphrey and William Woodbury had forty each. The families of Leach, Raymond, Dodge, and Woodbury, still remain in the community of which their ancestors were the founders. John Sibley had a grant of fifty acres. Robert Goodell was a grantee, and became a large landholder.

Job Swinnerton was the brother of John, who was the main doctor in Salem for many years. He owned several plots of land and was a respectable, peaceful, and unassuming member of the community. He seemed to avoid getting involved in the various disputes happening in the village, and although he sometimes had a significant impact, he clearly did nothing to make things worse. He passed away on April 11, 1689, at over eighty-eight years old. He had a large family, and his descendants still carry on the name in the village today. Daniel Rea originally came to Plymouth, and in 1630, he bought a house, a garden, and all the associated rights in that town. In 1632, he moved to Salem and quickly became a prominent figure in local government. He received a grant of one hundred sixty acres, which he farmed until his death in 1662. He had two children: one was the wife of Captain Lothrop, and the other, Joshua Rea, became the founder of a notable family that played a significant role in the village for many generations. Jacob Barney was one of the original grantees and served as a deputy for several years. His son, also named Jacob, became a large landowner and on April 5, 1692, right at the peak of the witchcraft hysteria, donated two acres conveniently located for building a schoolhouse. He conveyed it to the local residents for that purpose, naming them individually. Here’s the list, which highlights who the leading figures were in the area at that time: "Mr. Israel Porter; Sergeant John Leach; Cornet Nathaniel Howard, Sr.; Corporal Joseph Herrick, Sr.; Benjamin Porter; Joshua Rea, Sr.; Thomas Raymond, Sr.; Edward Bishop, secundus; John Trask, Jr.; John Creesy; Joshua Rea, Jr.; John Rea; John Flint, Sr." Lawrence Leach received a grant of one hundred acres, and other family members with the same name received similar recognition as valued additions to the community. William Dodge and Richard Raymond each obtained grants of sixty acres, while Humphrey and William Woodbury received forty acres each. The families of Leach, Raymond, Dodge, and Woodbury remain part of the community established by their ancestors. John Sibley received a grant of fifty acres. Robert Goodell was also a grantee and became a substantial landholder.

The descendants of the two last-named persons are very numerous, and have maintained the respectability of their family names. They are each, at this day, represented by gentlemen whose enthusiastic interest in our antiquities is proved by their invaluable labors and acquisitions in the interesting depart[i.142]ments of genealogy and local history,—John L. Sibley, Librarian of Harvard University; and Abner C. Goodell, Register of Probate for the County of Essex.

The descendants of the two individuals mentioned last are very numerous and have upheld the respectability of their family names. Today, they are each represented by gentlemen whose passionate interest in our history is demonstrated by their invaluable work and collections in the fascinating fields of genealogy and local history—John L. Sibley, Librarian of Harvard University; and Abner C. Goodell, Register of Probate for Essex County.

Besides Townsend Bishop, there were two other persons of that name among the original inhabitants of Salem. They do not appear to have been related to him or to each other. Richard Bishop, whose wife Dulcibell had died Aug. 6, 1658, married the widow Galt, July 22, 1660. He died Dec. 30, 1674.

Besides Townsend Bishop, there were two other people with that name among the original inhabitants of Salem. They don't seem to have been related to him or to one another. Richard Bishop, whose wife Dulcibell died on August 6, 1658, married the widow Galt on July 22, 1660. He died on December 30, 1674.

Edward Bishop was in Salem in 1639, and became a member of the church in 1645. In 1660 he was one of the constables of Salem, an original member of the Beverly Church in 1667, and died in January, 1695. He was an early settler on the Farms; his lands were on both sides of Bass River, the parcels on the west side being above and below the Ipswich road. His own residence was on the Beverly side; and he was not usually connected with the concerns of the village. His name appears but once in the witchcraft proceedings, and then in favor of an accused person.

Edward Bishop was in Salem in 1639 and became a member of the church in 1645. In 1660, he was one of the constables of Salem, an original member of the Beverly Church in 1667, and he died in January 1695. He was an early settler in the Farms; his lands were on both sides of Bass River, with parcels on the west side located above and below the Ipswich Road. His home was on the Beverly side, and he was not usually involved in the village's affairs. His name appears only once in the witchcraft proceedings, and that was in support of someone accused.

Edward Bishop, commonly called "the sawyer," from the tenor of conveyances of land, dates, and other evidences, appears to have been a son of the preceding. In his earlier life, he was somewhat notable for irregularities and aberrations of conduct. With his wife Hannah, he was fined by the local court, in 1653, for depredating upon the premises of his neighbors. During the subsequent period of his history, he bore[i.143] the character of an industrious and reputable person. At some time previous to 1680, he married Bridget, widow of Thomas Oliver. On the 9th of March, 1693, he married Elizabeth Cash. He lived originally in Beverly; afterwards, at different times, on the land belonging to his father in Salem Village,—the estate he occupied being on both sides of the Ipswich road. His last years were passed in the town of Salem. He died in 1705. His daughter Hannah, born in 1646, became the wife of Captain William Raymond, one of the founders of the numerous family of that name.

Edward Bishop, often referred to as "the sawyer," seems to have been a son of the previous individual based on land transactions, dates, and other evidence. In his younger years, he was somewhat known for his irregular behavior and misconduct. Along with his wife Hannah, he was fined by the local court in 1653 for trespassing on his neighbors' property. However, over time, he developed a reputation as a hardworking and respected individual. At some point before 1680, he married Bridget, the widow of Thomas Oliver. On March 9, 1693, he wed Elizabeth Cash. He initially lived in Beverly and later, at various times, on his father's land in Salem Village—the property he occupied was on both sides of Ipswich road. He spent his final years in the town of Salem and died in 1705. His daughter Hannah, born in 1646, became the wife of Captain William Raymond, one of the founders of the prominent Raymond family.

Edward Bishop, son of the preceding, called, for distinction, "husbandman," was born in 1648. He married Sarah, daughter of William Wilds, of Ipswich. He was a respectable person, and lived in the village on an estate also occupied by "the sawyer." His house was west of the avenue leading to Cherry Hill. In 1703 he removed to Rehoboth.

Edward Bishop, the son of the previous one, known for distinction as the "farmer," was born in 1648. He married Sarah, the daughter of William Wilds from Ipswich. He was a respectable man and lived in the village on a property that was also occupied by "the sawyer." His house was located west of the avenue leading to Cherry Hill. In 1703, he moved to Rehoboth.

Edward Bishop, the eldest of his sons, married Susanna, daughter of John Putnam, and in 1713 removed to that part of Ipswich now Hamilton. Prior to 1695, these four Edward Bishops were all living; and the youngest had a wife and children. All will be found connected with our story, the second and third prominently. The fourth owed his safety, perhaps, to the influential connections of his wife.

Edward Bishop, the oldest of his sons, married Susanna, the daughter of John Putnam, and in 1713 moved to what is now Hamilton, part of Ipswich. Before 1695, all four Edward Bishops were alive, and the youngest had a wife and kids. They all play a role in our story, with the second and third being particularly significant. The fourth likely owed his safety to the powerful connections of his wife.

The first notice we have of Bray Wilkins is in the Massachusetts colonial records, Sept. 6, 1638, when he was authorized to set up a house and keep a ferry at Neponset River, and have "a penny a person." On[i.144] the 5th of November, 1639, the General Court accepted a report made by William Hathorne and Richard Davenport, commissioners appointed for the purpose, and, in accordance therewith, laid out a farm for Richard Bellingham, who had been deputy-governor, was then an assistant, and afterwards governor, "on the head of Salem, to the north-west of the town; there being in it a hill, and an Indian plantation, and a pond." This nice little farm included seven hundred acres, and "about one hundred or one hundred and fifty acres of meadow" beside. The next thing we hear about the matter is a petition to the General Court, May 22, 1661, of "Bray Wilkins and John Gingle, humbly desiring that the farm called by the name of Will's Hill, which this Court granted to the worshipful Richard Bellingham, Esq., and they purchased of him, may be laid to, and appointed to belong to, Salem; being nigh its lands, and the petitioners of its society." The Court granted the request. It seems that, about a year before, on the 9th of March, "Bray Wilkins, husbandman, and John Gingle, tailor, both of Lynn," had bought the Bellingham farm for two hundred and fifty pounds, of which they paid at the time twenty-five pounds, and mortgaged it back for the residue. The twenty-five pounds was paid as follows: twenty-four pounds in a ton of bar-iron, and one pound in money. Wilkins had, some time before, removed from Neponset, and perhaps had been working in one of the iron-manufactories then in operation at Lynn. When the balance of his wages over his[i.145] expenses enabled him, with the aid of Gingle, to raise a ton of iron and scrape together twenty shillings, they entered upon their bold undertaking. He had not a dollar in his pocket; but he had what was better than dollars,—industrious habits, a resolute will, a strong constitution, an iron frame, and six stout sons. After a while, he took into the work, in addition to his own effective family force, two trusty kinsmen, Aaron Way and William Ireland, conveying to them good farms out of his seven hundred acres. He enlarged his farm, from time to time, by new purchases, so as to more than make up for what he sold to Way and Ireland. In 1676 the mortgage was fully discharged. He and his sons bought out the heirs of Gingle, and the work was done. They held, free from debt, in one tract, a territory about two miles in length on the Reading line. Each member of the family had a house, barns, orchards, gardens, meadows, upland, and woodland; and the homestead of the old patriarch was in the midst of them, the enterprise of his laborious life crowned with complete success. The innumerable family of the name, scattered all over the country, has largely, if not wholly, been derived from this source. Bray Wilkins, and the members of his household in all its branches, were always on hand at parish meetings in Salem Village. Over a distance, as their route must have been, of five miles, they came, in all seasons and all weathers, by the roughest roads, and, in the earlier period, where there were no roads at all, through the woods, fording streams, to[i.146] meeting on the Lord's Day. He continued vigorous, hale, and active to the last; and died, as he truly characterizes himself in his will, "an ancient," Jan. 1, 1702, at the age of ninety-two.

The first mention of Bray Wilkins is in the Massachusetts colonial records, dated September 6, 1638, when he was granted permission to build a house and operate a ferry at Neponset River, charging "a penny a person." On November 5, 1639, the General Court accepted a report made by William Hathorne and Richard Davenport, the commissioners assigned for this task, and based on that, established a farm for Richard Bellingham, who had been deputy governor, was then an assistant, and later became governor, "at the head of Salem, northwest of the town; it included a hill, an Indian plantation, and a pond." This nice little farm comprised seven hundred acres and "about one hundred or one hundred and fifty acres of meadow" in addition. The next update we have is a petition to the General Court on May 22, 1661, from "Bray Wilkins and John Gingle, humbly asking that the farm known as Will's Hill, which this Court granted to the honorable Richard Bellingham, Esq., and which they purchased from him, may be assigned to belong to Salem; as it is near its lands, and the petitioners are part of its community." The Court approved their request. It appears that about a year earlier, on March 9, "Bray Wilkins, farmer, and John Gingle, tailor, both of Lynn," had purchased the Bellingham farm for two hundred and fifty pounds, of which they paid twenty-five pounds upfront and mortgaged the rest. The initial twenty-five pounds was paid with twenty-four pounds in a ton of bar iron and one pound in cash. Wilkins had moved from Neponset some time earlier and might have been working in one of the iron mills operating in Lynn. When the balance of his wages after expenses allowed him, with Gingle's help, to gather a ton of iron and scrape together twenty shillings, they embarked on their ambitious venture. He didn't have a dollar to his name, but he had something better than cash—hardworking habits, determination, good health, a strong physique, and six robust sons. Eventually, he brought in two reliable relatives, Aaron Way and William Ireland, giving them good farms from his seven hundred acres. He gradually expanded his farm through new purchases to compensate for what he sold to Way and Ireland. By 1676, the mortgage was fully paid off. He and his sons bought out Gingle's heirs, completing the task. They owned, debt-free, a tract of land about two miles long along the Reading line. Each family member had their own house, barns, orchards, gardens, meadows, uplands, and woodlands; and the home of the old patriarch was centrally located among them, marking the successful culmination of his hard work. The numerous family members with that surname, found all over the country, largely trace their roots back to him. Bray Wilkins and all his extended family members were regularly present at parish meetings in Salem Village. Despite the five-mile journey they had to make, often in all types of weather and over difficult terrain, and in earlier times where there were no roads, traversing through woods and fording streams, they gathered for church on Sundays. He remained strong, healthy, and active until the end, and died, as he aptly described himself in his will, "an ancient," on January 1, 1702, at the age of ninety-two.

This was the way in which the large grants made to wealthy and eminent persons, governors, deputy-governors, and assistants, came into the possession and under the productive labor of a yeomanry who made good their title to the soil by the force of their characters and the strength of their muscles. One of the terms of Wilkins's purchase was, that, if he found and wrought minerals on the land, he was to pay to Bellingham or his heirs a royalty of ten pounds per annum. Believing that the best mine to be found in land is the crops that can be raised from it, he never tried to find any other.

This is how the large grants given to wealthy and prominent individuals—governors, deputy-governors, and their assistants—ended up in the hands of hardworking farmers who earned their right to the land through their character and physical labor. One of the conditions of Wilkins's purchase was that if he discovered and extracted minerals from the land, he would owe Bellingham or his heirs a royalty of ten pounds a year. Believing that the best resource to be found in the land is the crops that can be grown from it, he never bothered to look for anything else.

Bray Wilkins will appear to have shared in the witchcraft delusion, and been very unhappily connected with it; but he lived to behold its termination, and to participate in the restoration of reason. The minister of the parish at the time of his death, the Rev. Joseph Green, kept a diary which has been preserved. He thus speaks of the old man: "He lived to a good old age, and saw his children's children, and their children, and peace upon our little Israel."

Bray Wilkins seemed to have been caught up in the witchcraft hysteria and was unfortunately tied to it, but he lived to see it come to an end and to take part in the return to reason. The parish minister at the time of his death, Rev. Joseph Green, kept a diary that has been preserved. He wrote about the old man: "He lived to a ripe old age, saw his grandchildren, and their children, and experienced peace in our little community."

It is rather curious to notice such indications as the mineral clause in Wilkins's deed affords of the prevalent expectation, at the beginning of settlements in this region, that valuable minerals would be found in it. What makes it worthy of particular inquiry is, that they[i.147] were found and wrought for some time, but that no one thinks of looking after them now. Simon Bradstreet, Daniel Dennison, and John Putnam put up and carried on together, upon a large scale, iron-works, in 1674, at Rowley Village, now Boxford. Samuel and Nathan Leonard were employed to construct them, and carried them on by contract. These iron-works were long regarded as a promising enterprise and valuable investment. The Leonards were probably of the same family that, at Raynham and the neighborhood, engaged in this business to a great extent, and for a long period, making it a source of wealth and the foundation of eminent families. We know that the business was carried on extensively in Lynn, and that Governor Endicott was quite sure that he had found copper on his Orchard Farm. Who knows but that modern science and more searching methods of detection may yet discover the hidden treasures of which the fathers caught a glimpse, and their enterprises be revived and conducted with permanent energy and success?

It's pretty interesting to see things like the mineral clause in Wilkins's deed that hint at the strong hope, at the start of settlements in this area, that valuable minerals would be uncovered. What really stands out is that they[i.147] were found and worked for a while, but now no one bothers to look for them anymore. In 1674, Simon Bradstreet, Daniel Dennison, and John Putnam teamed up to run large-scale ironworks in Rowley Village, which is now Boxford. Samuel and Nathan Leonard were hired to build and operate them under contract. These ironworks were long seen as a promising venture and a worthwhile investment. The Leonards were probably part of the same family that engaged heavily in this business in Raynham and nearby areas for a significant period, turning it into a source of wealth and a foundation for prominent families. We know that this business thrived in Lynn, and Governor Endicott was quite convinced he had found copper on his Orchard Farm. Who knows, perhaps modern science and improved detection methods might still uncover the hidden treasures that the early settlers glimpsed, allowing their ventures to be revitalized and pursued with lasting vigor and success?

In 1669, Joseph Houlton testified, that, when he was about twenty years of age, in 1641, he was "a servant to Richard Ingersoll," and worked on his land at Ingersoll's Point. About the year 1652, he married Sarah, daughter of Richard Ingersoll, and widow of William Haynes. By her he had five sons and two daughters, who lived to maturity. He gave to each of them a farm; and their houses were in his near neighborhood. The sons were respectable and substantial[i.148] citizens, and persons of just views and amiable sentiments. The father was one of the honored heads of the village, and lived to a good old age. He died May 30, 1705. From him, it is probable, all of the name in this country have sprung. It will be for ever preserved in the public annals and on the geographical face of the country. Samuel Houlton, great-grandson of the original Joseph, was a representative of Massachusetts for ten years in the old Congress of the Confederation, for a time presiding over its deliberations. He was also a member of the first Congress under the Constitution, and subsequently, for a very long period, Judge of Probate for the county of Essex. He was a true patriot and wise legislator; enjoyed to an extraordinary degree the confidence and love of the people; had a commanding person and a noble and venerable aspect; and was always conspicuous by the dignity and courtesy of his manners. He was a physician by profession; but his whole life was spent in the public service. He was in both branches of the Legislature of the State, also in the Executive Council. He was major of the Essex regiment at the opening of the Revolution; was a member of the Committee of Safety, and of every convention for the framing of the Government; and, for more than thirty years, a judge of the Court of Common Pleas. He died, where he was born and had his home for the greater part of his life, in Salem Village, Jan. 2, 1816, in the seventy-eighth year of his age.

In 1669, Joseph Houlton testified that when he was about twenty years old, in 1641, he was "a servant to Richard Ingersoll" and worked on his land at Ingersoll's Point. Around 1652, he married Sarah, the daughter of Richard Ingersoll and widow of William Haynes. Together, they had five sons and two daughters who lived to adulthood. He gifted each of them a farm, and their homes were nearby. The sons were respected and established citizens, known for their fair views and kind personalities. The father was one of the respected leaders of the village and lived to a good old age. He died on May 30, 1705. It is likely that all individuals with his last name in this country are descendants of him. His legacy will be forever remembered in public records and on the map of the country. Samuel Houlton, the great-grandson of the original Joseph, served as a representative of Massachusetts for ten years in the old Congress of the Confederation, even presiding over its meetings for a time. He was also a member of the first Congress under the Constitution and later served as the Judge of Probate for Essex County for many years. He was a true patriot and wise legislator, who enjoyed exceptional trust and affection from the public; he had a commanding presence and a noble, dignified appearance, and he was always recognized for the dignity and politeness of his demeanor. He was a physician by profession, but spent his entire life in public service. He served in both branches of the state legislature and was also on the Executive Council. He held the rank of major in the Essex regiment at the start of the Revolution, was part of the Committee of Safety, and participated in every convention for forming the government. For over thirty years, he was a judge of the Court of Common Pleas. He died, in the same place where he was born and spent most of his life, in Salem Village, on January 2, 1816, at the age of seventy-eight.

In 1724 a petition was presented to the Legislature,[i.149] commencing as follows: "Whereas Salem is a most ancient town of Massachusetts Province, and very much straitened for land," the petitioners pray for a grant in the western part of the province. The petition was allowed on condition that one lot be reserved for the first settled minister, one for the ministry, and one for a school. Each grantee was required to give a bond of twenty-five pounds to be on the spot; have a house of seven feet stud and eighteen square at least, seven acres of English hay ready to be mowed, and help to build a meeting-house and settle a minister, within five years. A grandson of Joseph Houlton, of the same name, led the company that emigrated to the assigned location. The first result was the town of New Salem, in Franklin County, incorporated in 1753; named in honor of the old town from which their leading founder had come. But the people were not satisfied with having merely a school. They must have an academy. They went to work with a will, and an academy was established and incorporated in 1795. This was the second result. The academy did not flourish to an extent to suit their views, and they beset the Legislature to grant them a township of land in the woods of Maine to enable them to endow it. They carried their point, and in 1797 obtained the grant. The effort had been great, and great was the rejoicing at its successful issue. But, as bad luck would have it, just at that time land could not be sold at any price. The grant became worthless; and deep and bitter was the disappointment of the people of[i.150] New Salem. The doom of the academy seemed to be settled, and its days numbered and finished. But there were men in New Salem who were determined that the academy should be saved. They met in consultation, and, under the lead of still another Joseph Houlton, of the same descent, fixed their purpose. They sold or mortgaged their farms, which more than half a century of labor had rendered productive, and which every association and every sentiment rendered dear to them. With the money thus raised they bought the granted tract, paying a good price for it. The preservation and endowment of the academy were thus secured; but all benefit from it to themselves or their descendants was wholly relinquished. It was the only way in which the academy could be saved. Some must make the sacrifice, and they made it. They packed up bag and baggage; sold off all they could not carry; gathered their families together; bid farewell to the scenes of their birth and childhood, the homes of their life, and the fruits of their labor; and started in wagons and carts on the journey to Boston. Their location was hundreds of miles distant, far down in the eastern wilderness, and inaccessible from the extremes of settlement at that time on the Penobscot. As the only alternative, they embarked in a coasting-vessel; went down the Bay of Fundy to St. John, N.B.; took a river-sloop up to Fredericton,—a hundred miles; got up the river as they could, in barges or canoes, eighty miles further to Woodstock; and there, turning to the left, struck[i.151] into the forest, until they reached their location. The third result of this emigration, in successive generations and stages, from Salem Farms, is to be seen to-day in a handsome and flourishing village, interspersed and surrounded with well-cultivated fields,—the shire town of the county of Aroostook, in the State of Maine; which bears the name of the leader of this disinterested, self-sacrificing, and noble company. Three times was it the lot of this one family to encounter and conquer the difficulties, endure and triumph over the privations, and carry through the herculean labors, of subduing a rugged wilderness, and bringing it into the domain of civilization,—at Salem Village, New Salem, and Houlton. It would be difficult to find, in all our history, a story that more strikingly than this illustrates the elements of the glory and strength of New England,—zeal for education,—enterprise invigorated by difficulties,—and prowess equal to all emergencies.

In 1724, a petition was submitted to the Legislature,[i.149] starting with the statement: "Since Salem is one of the oldest towns in Massachusetts Province and is very short on land," the petitioners requested a land grant in the western part of the province. The petition was approved, with the condition that one lot be reserved for the first settled minister, one for the ministry, and one for a school. Each grantee had to provide a bond of twenty-five pounds, establish a house that was at least seven feet high and eighteen square feet, prepare seven acres of English hay for mowing, and assist in building a meeting house and settling a minister within five years. A grandson of Joseph Houlton, sharing his name, led the group that moved to the granted area. The immediate result was the town of New Salem, in Franklin County, which was incorporated in 1753, named after the old town from which their prominent founder originated. However, the residents were not satisfied with just a school; they wanted an academy. They got to work and successfully established an academy, which was incorporated in 1795. This was the second outcome. The academy didn’t thrive as they had hoped, so they approached the Legislature for a township of land in the woods of Maine to help fund it. They succeeded in this effort and received the grant in 1797. There was much hard work involved, and great joy followed its successful conclusion. Unfortunately, land couldn't be sold at any price at that time. The grant became worthless, leading to deep and bitter disappointment among the people of[i.150] New Salem. It seemed as though the fate of the academy was sealed, and it was doomed. But there were people in New Salem who were determined to save the academy. They gathered for consultations, and, led by yet another Joseph Houlton from the same lineage, set their minds on the goal. They sold or mortgaged their farms, which had taken more than fifty years of hard work to become productive and that were cherished due to the memories tied to them. With the money they raised, they purchased the granted land for a fair price. Thus, the preservation and endowment of the academy were secured, but they gave up all benefits from it for themselves and their descendants. It was the only way to save the academy. Some had to make sacrifices, and they did. They packed all their belongings, sold whatever they couldn’t take with them, gathered their families, said goodbye to the places of their birth and youth, the homes they had known, and the fruits of their labor; then they set off in wagons and carts on the journey to Boston. Their destination was hundreds of miles away, deep in the eastern wilderness, and hard to reach from the furthest settlements at that time on the Penobscot. As the only other option, they boarded a coasting vessel, sailed down the Bay of Fundy to St. John, N.B., took a river-sloop up to Fredericton—about a hundred miles—then continued upriver as best they could, in barges or canoes, another eighty miles to Woodstock; from there, they turned left and ventured[i.151] into the forest until they reached their destination. The third outcome of this migration, through various generations and stages from Salem Farms, can be seen today in a beautiful and thriving village surrounded by well-tended fields—Aroostook County's shire town in the State of Maine, named after the leader of this selfless, sacrificial, and noble group. This family faced and overcame difficulties three times, enduring hardships and completing the immense task of taming a rough wilderness and bringing it into civilization, in Salem Village, New Salem, and Houlton. It would be hard to find a story in our history that illustrates the spirit and strength of New England more vividly—its commitment to education, its enterprise fueled by challenges, and its ability to meet any emergency.

John Burton came early to Salem by way of Barbadoes. He combined the pursuits of a farmer and a tanner. He was a sturdy old Englishman, who, while probably holding the theological sentiments that prevailed in his day, abhorred the spirit of persecution, and was unwilling to live where it was allowed to bear sway. He does not appear to have been a Quaker, but sympathized with all who suffered wrong. In 1658, he went off in their company to Rhode Island, sharing their banishment. But his conscience would not let him rest in voluntary flight. He came[i.152] back in 1661, to bear his testimony against oppression. He was brought before the Court, as an abettor and shelterer of Quakers. He told the justices that they were robbers and destroyers of the widows and fatherless, that their priests divined for money, and that their worship was not the worship of God. They commanded him to keep silent. He commanded them to keep silent. They thought it best to bring the colloquy to a close by ordering him to the stocks. They finally concluded, upon the whole, to let him alone; and he remained here the rest of his life. His descendants are through a daughter (who married William Osborne) and his son Isaac. They are numerous, under both names. Isaac was an active and respectable citizen of the village, and a farmer of enterprise and energy. He carried on, under a lease, Governor Endicott's farm of over five hundred acres on Ipswich River, and had lands of his own. In subsequent generations, this family branched off in various directions to Connecticut, Vermont, and elsewhere. One detachment of them went to Wilton, N.H., where the family still remains on the original homestead. The late Warren Burton, who was born in Wilton,—a graduate of Harvard College in the class of 1821, and well known for his invaluable services in the cause of education, philanthropy, and letters,—was a direct descendant of John Burton, and as true to the rights of conscience as the old tanner, who bearded the lion of persecution in the day of his utmost wrath, and in his very den.[i.153]

John Burton arrived early in Salem after traveling from Barbadoes. He worked as both a farmer and a tanner. He was a strong old Englishman who, although likely sharing the religious beliefs of his time, hated persecution and refused to live in a place where it was accepted. He doesn't seem to have been a Quaker himself, but he empathized with anyone who faced injustice. In 1658, he joined them in Rhode Island, sharing in their exile. However, his conscience wouldn’t let him stay away willingly. He returned in 1661 to speak out against oppression. He was brought before the Court for aiding and sheltering Quakers. He told the justices they were robbers and destroyers of widows and orphans, that their ministers prophesied for money, and that their worship wasn’t true worship of God. They ordered him to be quiet. He told them to be quiet instead. They decided to end the discussion by sending him to the stocks. Ultimately, they chose to leave him alone, and he lived there for the rest of his life. His descendants come through a daughter (who married William Osborne) and his son Isaac. They are many, with both last names. Isaac was an active and respected citizen in the village, an energetic farmer. He managed a lease on Governor Endicott's farm of over five hundred acres along the Ipswich River and owned land of his own. In later generations, this family spread to Connecticut, Vermont, and other places. One branch settled in Wilton, N.H., where the family still lives on the original homestead. The late Warren Burton, who was born in Wilton, a Harvard College graduate from the class of 1821, and well-known for his invaluable contributions to education, philanthropy, and literature, was a direct descendant of John Burton, and as dedicated to the rights of conscience as the old tanner who confronted the lion of persecution at its fiercest, right in its den.[i.153]

Henry Herrick, who, as has been stated, purchased the Cherry-Hill farm of Alford, was the fifth son of Sir William Herrick, of Beau Manor Park, in the parish of Loughborough, in the county of Leicester, England. He came first to Virginia, and then to Salem. He was accompanied to America by another emigrant from Loughborough, named Cleaveland. Herrick became a member of the First Church at Salem in 1629, and his wife Edith about the same time. Their fifth son, Joseph, baptized Aug. 6, 1645, owned and occupied Cherry Hill in 1692. He married Sarah, daughter of Richard Leach, Feb. 7, 1667. He was a man of great firmness and dignity of character, and, in addition to the care and management of his large farm, was engaged in foreign commerce. As he bore the title of Governor, he had probably been at some time in command of a military post or district, or perhaps of a West-India colony. His descendants are numerous, and have occupied distinguished stations, often exhibiting a transmitted military stamp. Joseph Herrick was in the Narragansett fight. It illustrates the state of things at that time, that this eminent citizen, a large landholder, engaged in prosperous mercantile affairs, and who had been abroad, was, in 1692, when forty-seven years of age, a corporal in the village company. He was the acting constable of the place, and, as such, concerned in the early proceedings connected with the witchcraft prosecutions. For a while he was under the influence of the delusion; but his strong and enlightened mind soon led him out of it. He was one of[i.154] the petitioners in behalf of an accused person, when intercession, by any for any, was highly dangerous; and he was a leader in the party that rose against the fanaticism, and vindicated the characters of its victims. He inherited a repugnance to oppression, and sympathy for the persecuted. His father and mother appear, by a record of Court, to have been fined "for aiding and comforting an excommunicated person, contrary to order."

Henry Herrick, who, as previously mentioned, bought the Cherry-Hill farm from Alford, was the fifth son of Sir William Herrick of Beau Manor Park, located in the parish of Loughborough, in Leicester County, England. He first came to Virginia and then made his way to Salem. He was joined in America by another emigrant from Loughborough named Cleaveland. Herrick became a member of the First Church in Salem in 1629, and his wife, Edith, joined around the same time. Their fifth son, Joseph, baptized on August 6, 1645, owned and lived at Cherry Hill in 1692. He married Sarah, the daughter of Richard Leach, on February 7, 1667. He was known for his strong and dignified character, and alongside managing his large farm, he was involved in international trade. Holding the title of Governor, he likely commanded a military post or district at some point, or possibly a colony in the West Indies. His descendants are numerous and have held prominent positions, often showing a military legacy. Joseph Herrick participated in the Narragansett fight. This highlights the conditions of the time; he was a distinguished citizen, a large landowner, engaged in successful business, and at the age of forty-seven in 1692, he served as a corporal in the village company. He was the acting constable of the area, involved in the initial actions related to the witchcraft trials. For a time, he was swayed by the hysteria, but his strong and open-minded nature quickly brought him back to reason. He was among the petitioners advocating for someone who was accused at a time when speaking up for anyone was very dangerous; he was a leader in the movement against the fanaticism and defended the reputation of its victims. He inherited a strong dislike for oppression and a sense of compassion for the persecuted. Records from the Court show that his parents were fined "for aiding and comforting an excommunicated person, contrary to order."

William Nichols, in 1651, bought two hundred acres, which had been granted to Henry Bartholomew, partly in the village, but mostly beyond the "six-mile extent," and consequently set off to Topsfield. He had several other lots of land. He distributed nearly all his real estate, during his lifetime, to his son John; his adopted son, Isaac Burton; his daughters, the wives of Thomas Wilkins and Thomas Cave; and his grand-daughter, the wife of Humphrey Case. His only son John had several sons, and from them the name has been widely dispersed. In a deposition dated May 14, 1694, William Nichols declares himself "aged upwards of one hundred years." As his will was offered for Probate Feb. 24, 1696, he must have been one hundred and two years of age at his death.

William Nichols bought two hundred acres in 1651, which had been granted to Henry Bartholomew. Some of the land was in the village, but mostly it was beyond the “six-mile extent,” so he moved to Topsfield. He owned several other pieces of land as well. Throughout his life, he gave almost all his property to his son John, his adopted son Isaac Burton, his daughters who were married to Thomas Wilkins and Thomas Cave, and his granddaughter who was married to Humphrey Case. His only son, John, had several sons, and from them, the family name has spread widely. In a statement dated May 14, 1694, William Nichols claimed to be "over one hundred years old." Since his will was submitted for probate on February 24, 1696, he must have been one hundred and two years old when he passed away.

William Cantlebury was a large landholder, having purchased three-quarters of the Corwin grant. He died June 1, 1663. His name died with him, as he had no male issue. His property went to his daughters, who were represented, in 1692, under the names of Small, Sibley, and Buxton. The Flints, Popes,[i.155] Uptons, Princes, Phillipses, Needhams, and Walcotts, had valuable farms, and appear, from the records and documents, to have been respectable, energetic, and intelligent people. Daniel Andrew was one of the strong men of the village; had been a deputy to the General Court, and acted a prominent part before and after the witchcraft convulsion. But the great family of the village—greater in numbers and in aggregate wealth than any other, and eminently conspicuous on both sides in the witchcraft proceedings—remains to be mentioned.

William Cantlebury was a large landowner, having bought three-quarters of the Corwin grant. He died on June 1, 1663. His name ended with him, as he had no male heirs. His property went to his daughters, who were represented in 1692 under the names Small, Sibley, and Buxton. The Flints, Popes,[i.155] Uptons, Princes, Phillipses, Needhams, and Walcotts owned valuable farms and appear to have been respectable, hardworking, and intelligent people, based on the records and documents. Daniel Andrew was one of the prominent figures in the village; he had served as a deputy to the General Court and played a key role before and after the witchcraft crisis. But the most notable family in the village—larger in numbers and total wealth than any other, and notably active on both sides during the witchcraft proceedings—still needs to be mentioned.

John Putnam had a grant of one hundred acres, Jan. 20, 1641. With his wife Priscilla, he came from Buckinghamshire, England, and was probably about fifty years of age on his arrival in this country. He was a man of great energy and industry, and acquired a large estate. He died in 1662, leaving three sons,—Thomas, born in 1616; Nathaniel, in 1620; and John, in 1628. For a more convenient classification, I shall, in speaking of this family, refer, not to the original John at all, but to the sons as its three heads.

John Putnam received a grant of one hundred acres on January 20, 1641. He came here from Buckinghamshire, England, with his wife Priscilla and was probably around fifty years old when he arrived in this country. He was a very energetic and hardworking man and built up a large estate. He died in 1662, leaving behind three sons—Thomas, born in 1616; Nathaniel, born in 1620; and John, born in 1628. For easier reference, I will discuss this family by focusing on the three sons rather than the original John.

Thomas, the eldest, inherited a double share of his father's lands. He was of age when he came to America, and had received a good education. He appears to have settled, in the first instance, in Lynn, where for several years he acted as a magistrate, holding local courts, by appointment of the General Court. Upon removing to Salem, he was chosen, as the town-records show, to the office of constable. This was considered at that time as quite a distinguished position, carrying[i.156] with it a high authority, covering the whole executive local administration. Thomas Putnam was the first clerk of Salem Village, and acted prominently in military, ecclesiastical, and municipal affairs. He seems to have been a person of a quieter temperament than his younger brothers, and led a somewhat less stirring life. Possessing a large property by inheritance, he was not quite so active in increasing it; but, enjoying the society and friendship of the leading men, lived a more retired life. At the same time, he was always ready to serve the community if called for, as he often was, when occasion arose for the aid of his superior intelligence and personal influence. He married first, while in Lynn, Ann, daughter of Edward Holyoke, great-grandfather of the President of Harvard College of that name whose son, the venerable centenarian, Dr. Edward Augustus Holyoke, is remembered as a true Christian philosopher by the generation still lingering on the stage. Having lost his wife on the 1st of September, 1665, he married, on the 14th of November, 1666, Mary, widow of Nathaniel Veren; coming, through her, into possession of property in Jamaica and Barbadoes, in which places Veren had resided, more or less, in the prosecution of commercial business. His homestead, as shown on the map, was occupied by his widow in 1692, and, after her death, by her son Joseph, the father of General Israel Putnam. He had also a town residence on the north side of Essex Street, extending back to[i.157] the North River. Its front on Essex Street embraced the western part of the grounds now occupied by the North Church, and extended to a point beyond the head of Cambridge Street. He left the eastern half of this property to his son Thomas, and the western half to his son Joseph. To his son Edward he left another estate in the town, on the western side of St. Peter's Street, to the north of Federal Street.

Thomas, the eldest, inherited a larger portion of his father's lands. He was of age when he arrived in America and had received a solid education. Initially, he seems to have settled in Lynn, where for several years he served as a magistrate, holding local courts by appointment of the General Court. After moving to Salem, he was appointed constable, as shown in the town records. This was considered a distinguished position at the time, giving him significant authority over the local executive administration. Thomas Putnam was the first clerk of Salem Village and was active in military, church, and town matters. He appeared to have a calmer personality than his younger brothers and led a somewhat less eventful life. With a large inheritance, he wasn’t as eager to grow his wealth but enjoyed the company and friendship of prominent individuals, living a more reserved life. Nevertheless, he was always willing to help the community when needed, which was often the case, given his intelligence and influence. He first married Ann, the daughter of Edward Holyoke, in Lynn; Holyoke was the great-grandfather of the President of Harvard College of the same name, whose son, the venerable Dr. Edward Augustus Holyoke, is remembered as a true Christian philosopher by the current generation. After losing his wife on September 1, 1665, he married Mary, the widow of Nathaniel Veren, on November 14, 1666. Through her, he acquired property in Jamaica and Barbados, where Veren had lived while conducting business. His homestead, as shown on the map, was occupied by his widow in 1692 and, after her death, by their son Joseph, the father of General Israel Putnam. He also had a house on the north side of Essex Street, which extended back to the North River. Its front on Essex Street included the western part of the land now occupied by the North Church and stretched beyond the head of Cambridge Street. He bequeathed the eastern half of this property to his son Thomas and the western half to his son Joseph. To his son Edward, he left another estate in town, on the western side of St. Peter's Street, north of Federal Street.

Thomas Putnam died on the 5th of May, 1686. He left large estates in the village to each of his children, and a valuable piece of meadow land, of fifteen acres, to a faithful servant.

Thomas Putnam died on May 5, 1686. He left substantial estates in the village to each of his children, along with a valuable 15-acre piece of meadowland to a loyal servant.

Nathaniel Putnam married Elizabeth, daughter of Richard Hutchinson, and, besides what he received from his father, came, through his wife, into possession of seventy-five acres. On that tract he built his house and passed his life. The property has remained uninterruptedly in his family. One of them, the late Judge Samuel Putnam, of the Supreme Court of Massachusetts, enjoyed it as a country residence, and it is still held by his children. Nathaniel Putnam was a deputy to the General Court, and constantly connected with all the interests of the community. He had great business activity and ability, and was a person of extraordinary powers of mind, of great energy and skill in the management of affairs, and of singular sagacity, acumen, and quickness of perception. He died July 23, 1700, leaving a numerous family and a large estate.

Nathaniel Putnam married Elizabeth, the daughter of Richard Hutchinson, and in addition to what he inherited from his father, he gained seventy-five acres through his wife. On that land, he built his home and lived his life. The property has remained in his family without interruption. One of his descendants, the late Judge Samuel Putnam, who served on the Supreme Court of Massachusetts, used it as a country residence, and it is still owned by his children. Nathaniel Putnam was a deputy to the General Court and was always involved in the community's interests. He was very active and capable in business, a person of remarkable intelligence, great energy, and skill in managing affairs, as well as unusual insight, sharpness, and quick understanding. He died on July 23, 1700, leaving behind a large family and a significant estate.

John Putnam had the same indefatigable activity as[i.158] Nathaniel. He was often deputy to the General Court, and accumulated a very great landed property. He married Rebecca Prince, step-daughter of John Gedney, and died on the 7th of April, 1710. He was buried with military honors. He left a large family of sons and daughters. We shall often meet him in our narrative, and gather the materials, as we go along, to form an opinion of his character. The earliest rate-list in the parish record book is for 1681. At that time the three brothers were all living; the aggregate sum assessed upon ninety-four names was two hundred pounds. The rate of Thomas was £10. 6s. 3d.; that of Nathaniel, £9. 10s.; that of John, £8. No other person paid as much as either of them.

John Putnam had the same tireless energy as Nathaniel. He often served as a deputy to the General Court and built up a large amount of land. He married Rebecca Prince, the stepdaughter of John Gedney, and passed away on April 7, 1710. He was buried with military honors. He left behind a big family of sons and daughters. We'll come across him frequently in our story and gather information along the way to form an idea of his character. The earliest tax list in the parish record book is from 1681. At that time, all three brothers were alive; the total amount assessed on ninety-four names was two hundred pounds. Thomas's assessment was £10. 6s. 3d.; Nathaniel's was £9. 10s.; John's was £8. No one else paid as much as any of them.

These brothers, as well as many others of the large landholders in the village, adopted the practice of giving to their sons and sons-in-law, outright, by deed, good farms, as soon as they became heads of families; so that, as the fathers advanced in life, their own estates were gradually diminished; and, when unable any longer to take an active part in managing their lands, they divided up their whole remaining real estate, making careful contracts with their children for an adequate maintenance, to the extent of their personal wants and comfort. Joseph Houlton did this: so did the widow Margery Scruggs, old William Nichols, Francis Nurse, and many others. In his last years, John Putnam was on the rate-list for five shillings only, while all his sons and daughters were assessed severally in large sums. In this way they had the satisfac[i.159]tion of making their children independent, and of seeing them take their places among the heads of the community.

These brothers, along with many other large landowners in the village, started giving their sons and sons-in-law good farms outright through legal deeds as soon as they became heads of families. As the fathers got older, their own estates gradually shrank. When they could no longer manage their lands actively, they divided up the rest of their property, making careful agreements with their children for adequate support based on their personal needs and comfort. Joseph Houlton did this, as did widow Margery Scruggs, old William Nichols, Francis Nurse, and many others. In his final years, John Putnam was listed for just five shillings, while all his sons and daughters were assessed for significant amounts. This way, they had the satisfaction of making their children independent and watching them take their place as leaders in the community.

Where this practice was followed, there were few quarrels in families over the graves of parents, and controversies seldom arose about the provisions of wills. In some cases no wills were needed to be made. It is apparent, that, in many respects, this was a wise and good practice. It was, moreover, a strictly just one. As the sons were growing to an adult age, they added, by their labors, to the value of lands,—inserted a property into them that was truly their own; and their title was duly recognized. In a new country, land has but little value in itself; the value is imparted by the labor that clears it and prepares it to yield its products. In 1686, Nathaniel Putnam testified that for more than forty years he had lived in the village, and that in the early part of that time unimproved land brought only a shilling an acre, while a cow was worth five pounds. In 1672, the rate of taxation on unimproved land was a half penny per acre, and, for land on which labor had been expended, a penny per acre. In 1685 it was taxed at the rates of three shillings for a hundred acres of wild land, and one penny an acre for "land within fence." The relative value of improved land constantly increased with the length of time it had been under culture. It may be said that labor added two-thirds to the value of land, and that he who by the sweat of his brow added those two-thirds, to that extent owned the land. An industrious young man went out into his[i.160] father's woods, cut down the trees, cleared the ground, fenced it in, and prepared it for cultivation. All that was thus added to its value was his creation, and he its rightful owner. The right was recognized, and full possession given him, by deed, as soon as he had opened a farm, and built a house, and brought a wife into it.

Where this practice was common, there were few disputes in families over the graves of parents, and arguments about wills rarely came up. In some cases, making a will was unnecessary. It's clear that, in many ways, this was a wise and good practice. It was also strictly fair. As the sons reached adulthood, they increased the value of the land through their work, adding property that was truly theirs; and their ownership was officially acknowledged. In a new country, land itself has little value; its worth comes from the labor that clears it and prepares it to produce. In 1686, Nathaniel Putnam stated that he had lived in the village for over forty years, and during the early years, undeveloped land sold for only a shilling an acre, while a cow was worth five pounds. In 1672, the tax rate on undeveloped land was half a penny per acre, and for land that had received labor, it was a penny per acre. In 1685, undeveloped land was taxed at three shillings for a hundred acres, and one penny an acre for "land within fence." The relative value of improved land continuously increased the longer it had been cultivated. It could be said that labor added two-thirds to the value of land, and that someone who, through hard work, added those two-thirds, owned the land to that extent. An industrious young man went out into his[i.160] father's woods, cut down trees, cleared the ground, fenced it in, and prepared it for farming. Everything he added to its value was his creation, making him its rightful owner. His right was recognized, and full possession was granted to him by deed as soon as he opened a farm, built a house, and brought a wife into it.

The effect of this was to anchor a family, from generation to generation, fast to its ancestral acres. It strengthened the ties that bound them to their native fields. Its moral effect was beyond calculation. When a young man was thus enabled to start in life on an independent footing, it made a man of him while he was young. It invested him with the dignity of a citizen by making him feel his share of responsibility for the security and welfare of society. It gave scope for enterprise, and inspiration to industry, at home. It led to early marriages, under circumstances that justified them. Joseph Putnam, the youngest son of Thomas, at the age of twenty years and seven months, took as his bride Elizabeth, daughter of Israel Porter, and grand-daughter of William Hathorne, when she was sixteen years and six months old. We shall see what a valuable citizen he became; and she was worthy of him. A large and noble family of children grew up to honor them, one of the youngest of whom was Israel Putnam, of illustrious Revolutionary fame.

The result of this was to keep a family, generation after generation, closely tied to their ancestral land. It strengthened the connections to their native fields. Its moral impact was immeasurable. When a young man was able to start his life on his own terms, it matured him while he was still young. It gave him the dignity of being a citizen by making him feel responsible for the safety and well-being of society. It allowed for entrepreneurship and inspired hard work at home. It also led to early marriages under circumstances that made sense. Joseph Putnam, the youngest son of Thomas, married Elizabeth, the daughter of Israel Porter and granddaughter of William Hathorne, when he was twenty years and seven months old and she was sixteen years and six months old. We will see what a valuable citizen he became, and she was deserving of him. A large and admirable family of children grew up to honor them, one of the youngest of whom was Israel Putnam, known for his significant role in the Revolutionary War.

Though there were descendants of this family in every company of emigrants that went forth from[i.161] Salem Village, in all directions, in every generation, to Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, Maine, and all parts of the New England, Middle, Western, and Pacific States, there is about as large a proportionate representation of the name within the precincts of Salem Village to-day, as there ever was. Fifty Putnams are at present voters in Danvers, on a list of eight hundred names,—one-sixteenth of the whole number. The rate-schedule of 1712 shows almost precisely the same proportion.

Though there have been descendants of this family in every group of emigrants that left from[i.161] Salem Village, heading in all directions, in every generation, to Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, Maine, and all parts of New England, the Midwest, the West, and the Pacific States, there is still about the same proportion of the name in Salem Village today as there ever was. Currently, fifty Putnams are registered voters in Danvers, out of a total of eight hundred names—one-sixteenth of the total. The rate schedule from 1712 shows nearly the same proportion.

Edward Putnam, whom we shall meet again, was baptized July 4, 1654. After serving as deacon of the church from its organization, a period of forty years, he resigned on account of advancing age; and in 1733, as he was entering on his eightieth year, gave this account of his family: "From the three brothers proceeded twelve males; from these twelve males, forty males; and from these forty males, eighty-two males: there were none of the name of Putnam in New England but those from this family." With respect to their situation in life, he remarks: "I can say with the Psalmist, I have been young, and now am old; yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken, nor their seed begging bread except of God, who provides for all. For God hath given to the generation of my fathers a generous portion, neither poverty nor riches." When the infirmities of age prevented his longer partaking in the worship of the Lord's Day, this good old man relinquished his residence near the church, and removed to his original homestead, in[i.162] the neighborhood of his children, which had then been included in the new town of Middleton. His will is dated March 11, 1731. It was offered in Probate, April 11, 1748. After making every reasonable deduction, in view of his share of responsibility for the earlier proceedings in the witchcraft prosecutions, we may participate in the affection and veneration with which this amiable and gentle-hearted man was regarded by his contemporaries.

Edward Putnam, who we will encounter again, was baptized on July 4, 1654. After serving as a deacon of the church since its founding for forty years, he stepped down due to old age. In 1733, as he was approaching his eightieth year, he shared this account of his family: "From the three brothers came twelve male descendants; from those twelve males, forty males; and from those forty males, eighty-two males: there were no Putnams in New England except those from this family." Regarding their situation in life, he noted: "I can say with the Psalmist, I have been young, and now I am old; yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken, nor their offspring begging for bread, except from God, who provides for all. For God has given a generous portion to the generation of my fathers, neither poverty nor riches." When the frailties of age no longer allowed him to participate in Lord's Day worship, this good old man left his home near the church and moved back to his original homestead in[i.162] near his children, which had then become part of the new town of Middleton. His will is dated March 11, 1731. It was submitted for probate on April 11, 1748. After accounting for his share of responsibility in the earlier witchcraft prosecutions, we can appreciate the love and respect that this kind-hearted man received from his contemporaries.

The provisions of his will contain items which so strikingly illustrate his character, and give us such an insight of the domestic life of the times, that a few of them will be presented. According to the prevalent custom, he had given good farms to his several children when they became heads of families. In his will, he distributes the residue of his real estate among them with carefulness and an equal hand, describing the metes and bounds of the various tracts with great minuteness, so as to prevent all questions of controversy among them. He gives legacies in money to his daughters, ten pounds each; and, to his grand-daughters, five pounds each. To one of his five sons, he gives his "cross-cut saw." This was used to saw large logs crosswise, having two handles worked by two persons, and distinguished from the "pit saw," which was used to saw logs lengthwise. All his other tools were to be divided among his sons, to one of whom he also gives his cane; to another, his "Great Bible;" to another, "Mr. Jeremiah Burroughs's Works;" to another, "Mr. Flavel's Works;" and, to the other, his[i.163] "girdle and sword." To one of them he gives his desk, and "that box wherein are so many writings;" to another, his "share in the iron-works;" and to another, his share "in the great timber chain." This, with other evidence, shows that there was a boom, and arrangements on a large scale for the lumbering business, at that time, on Ipswich River. The provisions for his wife were very considerate, exact, and minute, so as to prevent all possibility of there being any difficulty in reference to her rights, or of her ever suffering want or neglect. He gives to her, absolutely and for her own disposal, the residue of his books and all his "movable estate" in the house and out of it, including all "cattle, sheep, swine," the whole stock of the homestead farm, agricultural implements, and carriages. He makes it the duty of one of his sons to furnish her with all the "firewood" she may want, with ten bushels of corn-meal, two bushels of English meal, four bushels of ground malt, four barrels of good cider,—he to find the barrels—as many apples "as she shall see cause," and nine or ten score weight of good pork, annually: he was to "keep for her two cows, winter and summer," and generally to provide all "things needful." The will specifies, apartment by apartment, from cellar to garret, one-half of the house, to be for her accommodation, use, and exclusive control, and half of the garden. The sons were to pay, in specified proportions, all his funeral charges. One of the sons was to pay her forthwith four pounds in money; and they were severally to deliver to her annu[i.164]ally, in proportions expressly stated, ten pounds for pocket money. When the relative value of money at that time is considered, and the other particulars above named taken into account, it will be allowed that he was faithful and wise in caring for the wife of his youth and the companion of his long life. There is no better criterion of the good sense and good feeling of a person than his last will and testament. The result of a quite extensive examination is a conviction that the application of this test to the early inhabitants of Salem Village is most creditable to them, particularly in the tender but judicious and effectual manner in which the rights, comfort, independence, and security of their wives were provided for.

The provisions of his will include items that really highlight his character and give us insight into the domestic life of the time, so a few of them will be shared. Following the common practice, he had given good farms to his several children when they started their own families. In his will, he carefully distributes the remainder of his real estate among them fairly, detailing the boundaries of each tract in great detail to avoid any disputes. He leaves legacies of ten pounds each to his daughters and five pounds each to his granddaughters. To one of his five sons, he gives his "cross-cut saw," which was used to cut large logs crosswise, operated by two people, distinguishing it from the "pit saw," which cut logs lengthwise. All his other tools were to be shared among his sons, and he also gives one son his cane; another son receives his "Great Bible;" another gets "Mr. Jeremiah Burroughs's Works;" another, "Mr. Flavel's Works;" and the last one gets his "girdle and sword." To one son, he gives his desk and "that box with so many writings;" to another, his "share in the iron-works;" and to another, his share "in the great timber chain." This, along with other evidence, suggests that there was a boom and large-scale operations for the lumber business at that time on Ipswich River. The provisions for his wife were very thoughtful, specific, and detailed to avoid any issues regarding her rights or the risk of her experiencing hardship or neglect. He grants her complete and discretionary control over the remainder of his books and all his "movable estate" inside and outside the house, including all "cattle, sheep, swine," the entire stock of the homestead farm, farming equipment, and vehicles. He instructs one of his sons to provide her with all the "firewood" she needs, along with ten bushels of cornmeal, two bushels of English meal, four bushels of ground malt, four barrels of good cider—he's responsible for the barrels—as many apples "as she sees fit," and nine or ten score weight of good pork each year. He was to "keep two cows for her, winter and summer," and generally provide all "things necessary." The will specifies, room by room, from cellar to attic, that half of the house is for her use and exclusive control, along with half of the garden. The sons were to cover all his funeral expenses in specified shares. One son was to pay her four pounds in cash immediately; and they were all to give her ten pounds annually for pocket money, in explicitly stated proportions. When you consider the relative value of money at that time along with the other details mentioned, it's clear that he was caring and wise in looking after the wife of his youth and lifelong partner. A person's last will and testament is one of the best indicators of their common sense and compassion. A thorough examination leads to the conclusion that applying this standard to the early residents of Salem Village shows them in a very positive light, especially in the thoughtful but sensible way they ensured the rights, comfort, independence, and security of their wives.

In the third generation, the three Putnam families began to give their sons to the general service of the country in conspicuous public stations, and in the professional walks of life. Their names appear on the page of history and in the catalogues of colleges. Major-General Israel Putnam was a grandson of the first Thomas. On the 14th of May, 1718, Archelaus, a grandson of John, and son of James, died at Cambridge, while an undergraduate. Benjamin, a son of Nathaniel, in his will, presented for Probate, April 25, 1715, says, "I give my son Daniel one hundred and fifty pounds for his learning." Daniel lived and died in the ministry, at North Reading. His name heads the list of more than thirty—all, it is probable, of this family—in the last Triennial Catalogue of Harvard University.[i.165]

In the third generation, the three Putnam families started to send their sons into public service in prominent government positions and professional fields. Their names are found in history books and college lists. Major-General Israel Putnam was a grandson of the first Thomas. On May 14, 1718, Archelaus, a grandson of John and son of James, died in Cambridge while still an undergraduate. Benjamin, a son of Nathaniel, in his will, presented for Probate on April 25, 1715, stated, "I give my son Daniel one hundred and fifty pounds for his education." Daniel lived and passed away in the ministry in North Reading. His name tops the list of over thirty—all likely from this family—in the most recent Triennial Catalogue of Harvard University.[i.165]

The brightest name in the annals of Salem Village, though frequently referred to, has not yet been presented for your contemplation. I shall hold it up and keep it in your view by a somewhat detailed description, not only because it is necessary to a full understanding of our subject, but because it is good to gaze upon a life of virtue; to pause while beholding a portrait beaming with beneficence, and radiant with all excellent, beautiful, and attractive affections.

The most notable person in the history of Salem Village, although often mentioned, hasn't been brought to your attention yet. I will highlight them and keep them in your focus through a somewhat detailed description, not just because it's necessary for a complete understanding of our topic, but also because it's uplifting to reflect on a life of virtue; to take a moment to appreciate a portrait filled with kindness, and shining with all the excellent, beautiful, and appealing qualities.

Nathaniel Ingersoll was about eleven years old at the death of his father. His mother married John Knights, of Newbury, who became the head of her household, and continued to carry on the Townsend Bishop farm for several years. Governor Endicott, the friend and neighbor of Richard Ingersoll, took Nathaniel, while still a lad, into his family. In a deposition made in Court, June 24, 1701, Nathaniel Ingersoll says, "I went to live with Governor Endicott as his servant four years, on the Orchard Farm." At that time, the term "servant" had no derogatory sense connected with it. It merely implied the relations between an employer and the employed, without the least tint of the feeling which we associate with the condition of servility. Here was a youth, who, by his father's will, was the owner of a valuable estate of seventy-five acres in the immediate neighborhood, voluntarily seeking the privilege of entering the service of his father's friend, because he thereby would be better qualified, when old enough, to enter upon his own estate. Governor Endicott's political duties were[i.166] not then regarded as requiring him to live in Boston; and his usual residence was at the Orchard Farm, where he was making improvements and conducting agricultural operations upon so large a scale that it was the best school of instruction anywhere to be found for a young person intending to make that his pursuit in life. Young John Putnam, as has been stated, was there for the same purpose, under similar circumstances.

Nathaniel Ingersoll was about eleven years old when his father passed away. His mother remarried John Knights from Newbury, who took over as the head of the household and ran the Townsend Bishop farm for several years. Governor Endicott, who was a friend and neighbor of Richard Ingersoll, took Nathaniel into his home while he was still a boy. In a court statement made on June 24, 1701, Nathaniel Ingersoll said, "I went to live with Governor Endicott as his servant for four years on the Orchard Farm." At that time, the term "servant" didn’t carry any negative connotations. It simply described the relationship between an employer and their worker, without any implication of subservience. Here was a young man who, according to his father's will, owned a valuable seventy-five-acre estate nearby, willingly choosing to serve his father's friend. He believed this would prepare him better to manage his own estate when he was older. Governor Endicott’s political responsibilities didn’t require him to live in Boston at that time, and he usually resided at the Orchard Farm, where he was making improvements and running large-scale agricultural operations. It served as the best training ground for someone planning to pursue farming as a career. Young John Putnam, as previously mentioned, was there for the same reason and under similar circumstances.

Having built a house and barn, and provided the necessary stock and materials, Nathaniel Ingersoll went upon his farm when about nineteen years of age. Soon after, probably, he married Hannah Collins of Lynn, who, during their long lives, proved a worthy helpmeet. His house was on a larger scale than was usual at that time. One of its rooms is spoken of as very large; and the uses to which his establishment was put, from time to time, prove that it must have had capacious apartments. Its site is shown on the map. The road from Salem to Andover passed it, not at an angle as now, but by a curve. The present parsonage of Danvers Centre stands on the lot. But Ingersoll's house was a little in the rear of the site occupied by the present parsonage. It faced south. In front was an open space, or lawn, called Ingersoll's Common. Here he lived nearly seventy years. During that long period, his doors were ever open to hospitality and benevolence. His house was the centre of good neighborhood and of all movements for the public welfare. His latch-string was always out[i.167] for friend or stranger. In a military sense, and every other sense, it was the head-quarters of the village. On his land, a few rods to the north-east, stood the block-house where watch was kept against Indian attacks. There a sentinel was posted day and night, under his supervision. The spot was central to the several farming settlements; and all meetings of every kind took place there. To accommodate the public, he was licensed to keep a victualling-house; also to sell beer and cider by the quart "on the Lord's Day." This last provision was for the benefit of those who came great distances to meeting, and had to find refreshment somewhere between the services. To meet the occasions arising out of this business, he probably had a separate building. Indeed, the evidence, in the language used in reference to it, is quite decisive that there was an "ordinary," distinct from the dwelling-house. The location was thought to render such an establishment necessary, and his character secured its orderly maintenance.

Having built a house and barn, and provided the necessary livestock and materials, Nathaniel Ingersoll moved onto his farm at about nineteen years old. Shortly after, he married Hannah Collins from Lynn, who proved to be a great partner throughout their long lives. His house was larger than what was typical for that time. One of its rooms is described as very spacious, and the various uses of his property over the years indicate it must have had ample rooms. Its location is shown on the map. The road from Salem to Andover passed by it in a curve, not at an angle as it does now. The current parsonage of Danvers Centre stands on that lot, but Ingersoll's house was a bit behind where the present parsonage is located. It faced south, with an open area in front known as Ingersoll's Common. He lived there for nearly seventy years, and during that time, his doors were always open for hospitality and kindness. His house became the hub of good neighborliness and initiatives for public welfare. His latch-string was always out for friends and strangers alike. In both military and other contexts, it served as the headquarters for the village. A short distance northeast on his land was a block-house that kept watch against Native American attacks, where a guard was stationed day and night under his supervision. The spot was central to several farming communities, and all kinds of meetings were held there. To serve the public, he was licensed to run an inn and sell beer and cider by the quart "on the Lord's Day." This last provision was meant to help those who traveled long distances to church and needed refreshments in between services. To accommodate this business, he likely had a separate building. In fact, evidence indicates there was an "ordinary," distinct from the main house. The location was considered to make such an establishment necessary, and his character ensured it was maintained in an orderly manner.

Travellers through the country stopped at "Nathaniel Ingersoll's corner." The earliest path or roadway to and from the eastern settlements went by it. Here Increase and Cotton Mather, and all magistrates and ministers, were entertained. Here the wants of the poor and unfortunate were made known, and all men came for counsel and advice. From the first, even when he had not reached the age of maturity, he commanded to a singular extent the confidence and respect of all men. The influence of his bearing and character,[i.168] thus early established, was never lost or abated, or disturbed for a moment during his long life. He was the umpire to settle all differences, but never made an enemy by his decisions. Although of moderate estate, compared with some of his neighbors, they all treated him with a deference greater than they sometimes paid to each other. It was his lot to be mixed up with innumerable controversies, to be in the very centre of the most vehement and frightful social convulsions, and to act decisively in some of them; but it is most marvellous to witness how uniform and universal was the consideration in which he was held. These statements are justified abundantly by evidence in records and documents.

Travelers across the country stopped at "Nathaniel Ingersoll's corner." The earliest path or road to and from the eastern settlements passed by it. Here, Increase and Cotton Mather, along with all magistrates and ministers, were welcomed. The needs of the poor and unfortunate were made known, and everyone came seeking advice and counsel. From the very beginning, even before reaching adulthood, he commanded an extraordinary level of trust and respect from all. The influence of his demeanor and character, [i.168] established from an early age, never faded, weakened, or was disrupted during his long life. He served as the arbiter to resolve conflicts but never created enemies with his decisions. Although his wealth was modest compared to some of his neighbors, they treated him with a level of respect that often exceeded what they showed one another. He found himself involved in countless controversies, right at the center of intense and alarming social upheavals, and played a decisive role in some of them; yet it is remarkable how consistently and universally he was regarded. These claims are well-supported by evidence in records and documents.

When village business was to be transacted, or consultation of any kind had, the house of Deacon Ingersoll was designated, as a matter of course, for the place of meeting. Whether it was an ecclesiastical or a military gathering, a prayer-meeting or a train-band drill, it was there. Before they had a meeting-house, it cannot be doubted, they met for worship in his large room. We find it recorded, that, after the meeting-house was built, if from the bitterness of the weather, or any other cause, it was too uncomfortable to remain in, they would adjourn to Deacon Ingersoll's. Such a free use of a particular person's premises sometimes engenders a familiarity that runs into license, and is apt to breed contempt. Not so at all in his case. There was a native-born dignity, an honest manliness and pervading integrity[i.169] about him, that were appreciated by all persons at all times. When wrong was meditated, his admonition was received with respectful consideration; when it had been committed, his rebuke awakened no resentment. The fact, that he was acknowledged and felt by all to be a perfectly just man, is apparent through the whole course of his action in all the affairs of life. His uprightness, freedom from unworthy prejudice, and clear and transparent conscientiousness, appear in all documents, depositions, and records that proceeded from him. He was often called to give evidence in land causes and other trials at law; and his testimony is always straightforward, fair, and lucid. You can tell from the style, temper, or tone of other witnesses, which side of the controversy they espoused, but not from his. In the great and protracted conflict in the courts, relating to the Townsend Bishop farm, he and all his most intimate connections and relatives were parties of adverse interest; but Zerubabel Endicott paid homage, and left it on record, to the truthfulness and uprightness of the testimony and the fairness of the course of Nathaniel Ingersoll. We shall meet other illustrations to the same effect in the course of our narrative.

When village business needed to be handled or any type of consultation was required, Deacon Ingersoll's house was automatically chosen as the meeting place. Whether it was a church gathering, a military meeting, a prayer session, or a drill, it happened there. Before they had a church building, they undoubtedly worshiped in his big room. It's noted that after the meeting house was built, if the weather was too harsh or for any other reason it was uncomfortable to stay there, they would move to Deacon Ingersoll's. Such frequent use of someone's home can sometimes create a familiarity that leads to disrespect, but that was never the case with him. He had an inherent dignity, genuine integrity, and a solid character that everyone respected. When he spoke out against wrongdoing, people listened with respect; when he had to rebuke someone, it didn't create any hard feelings. The fact that everyone viewed him as completely fair is evident throughout all his actions in life. His honesty, lack of bias, and clear conscience showed in all the documents, statements, and records he created. He was often called to testify in land disputes and other legal matters, and his testimony was always honest, fair, and clear. You could tell the bias of other witnesses from their styles, attitudes, or tones, but not from his. During the long and significant court battle over the Townsend Bishop farm, he and his closest friends and family had opposing interests, yet Zerubabel Endicott acknowledged and documented the truthfulness and fairness of Nathaniel Ingersoll’s testimony. We will encounter more examples like this as we continue our story.

Although it is anticipating the course of events, it may be well to trace the outlines of the life of this man to its distant close. Partaking of the general views of his age, he participated in the proceedings that led to the witchcraft prosecutions. He believed in what was regarded as decisive evidence against the[i.170] accused, and acted accordingly. But no one ever felt that there was any vindictiveness in his course.

Although it anticipates how things will unfold, it’s worth outlining this man's life until its distant end. Sharing the general beliefs of his time, he took part in the events that led to the witchcraft trials. He believed in what was seen as convincing evidence against the[i.170] accused and acted accordingly. However, no one ever thought there was any malice in his actions.

He lived to see the storm that desolated his beloved village pass away, and to enjoy the restoration of reason, peace, and good-will among a people who had so long been torn by strife, and subjected to untold horrors,—horrors that have never yet been fully described, and which I despair of being able adequately to depict. He did all that a good and true man could do to eradicate the causes of the mischief. He participated in the exercises of a day of Thanksgiving, set apart for the purpose, in 1700, to express the devout and contrite gratitude of the people to a merciful God for deliverance from the errors and passions that had overwhelmed them with such awful judgments. The removal of Mr. Parris having been effected, Joseph Green was settled near the close of the year 1697. He was a wise and prudent man. By kind, cautious, and well-timed measures, he gradually succeeded in extracting every root of bitterness, healing all the breaches, and restoring harmony to a long-distracted people. In this work, Deacon Ingersoll and his good associate, Edward Putnam, aided him to the utmost. When, by their united counsels and labors, the difficult work was about accomplished, Mr. Green was taken to his reward, in 1715. Greatly was he lamented; but Nathaniel Ingersoll had realized all his best wishes at last. The prayers he had poured forth for fifty years had been answered. He had seen the completed service of a pastor who had fulfilled his[i.171] highest estimate of what a Christian minister should be. He lived to witness and share in the warm and unanimous welcome of Peter Clark to a useful, honored, happy ministry which lasted more than half a century. The ordination of Mr. Clark, which took place on the 8th of June, 1717, was made the occasion of demonstrating the complete re-establishment of social harmony and Christian love throughout that entire community. The storms of strife had commenced with the settlement of the first minister, more than forty years before: they had increased in violence, until, at the witchcraft delusion, they swept in a tornado every thing to ruin. The clouds had been slowly dispersed, and the angry waves smoothed down, by Mr. Green's benignant ministry. The long, and yet unbroken, "era of good feeling" was fully inaugurated. It was a day of great rejoicing. Old men and matrons, young men and maidens, met together in happy union. Tradition says that they carried their grateful festivities to the highest point allowable by the proprieties of that period. Having witnessed this scene, and beheld the church and village of his affections start on a new and sure career of peace and prosperity, the Good Parishioner folded his mantle and departed from sight. He died in 1719, in his eighty-fifth year. He was truly the "Man of Ross." The celebrated portrait, which poetry has drawn under this name, was from an actual example in real life, not more shining than his. He left no issue; but his brothers were the founders of a family[i.172] widely diffused, many members of which have, in every subsequent age, contributed to the honor of the name. Innumerable branches have spread out from the same stock under other names. The children of the late Dr. Nathaniel Bowditch, through both father and mother, have descended from a brother of Nathaniel Ingersoll.

He lived to see the storm that devastated his beloved village pass, and to enjoy the return of reason, peace, and goodwill among people who had long been torn by conflict and subjected to untold horrors—horrors that have never been fully described and which I fear I won’t be able to portray adequately. He did everything a good and honest man could do to eliminate the causes of the trouble. He took part in a Day of Thanksgiving, designated for that purpose, in 1700, to express the heartfelt gratitude of the people to a merciful God for delivering them from the mistakes and passions that had overwhelmed them with such terrible consequences. After the removal of Mr. Parris, Joseph Green was settled near the end of the year 1697. He was a wise and careful man. Through kind, cautious, and well-timed actions, he gradually succeeded in removing every source of bitterness, healing all the rifts, and restoring harmony to a long-distracted community. In this effort, Deacon Ingersoll and his good associate, Edward Putnam, helped him to the fullest extent. When, through their combined efforts, the difficult task was nearly complete, Mr. Green was taken to his reward in 1715. He was deeply missed; however, Nathaniel Ingersoll finally saw all his best wishes fulfilled. The prayers he had offered for fifty years had been answered. He witnessed the fulfillment of his highest hopes for what a Christian minister should be. He lived to witness and share in the warm and unanimous welcome of Peter Clark to a useful, respected, and happy ministry that lasted over fifty years. The ordination of Mr. Clark, which took place on June 8, 1717, marked the complete restoration of social harmony and Christian love throughout the entire community. The storms of conflict had begun with the settlement of the first minister, more than forty years prior; they had escalated in intensity until, during the witchcraft panic, they swept everything into chaos. The clouds had slowly parted and the raging waves calmed due to Mr. Green’s kind ministry. The long, unbroken "era of good feeling" was officially established. It was a day of great celebration. Old men and women, young men and maidens, gathered together in joyful unity. Tradition says they celebrated their gratitude to the highest extent allowed by the standards of that time. Having witnessed this scene and seen the church and village he cared for embark on a new and promising path of peace and prosperity, the Good Parishioner folded his cloak and faded from view. He died in 1719 at the age of eighty-five. He was truly the "Man of Ross." The famous portrait that poetry has created under this name was based on a real-life example, no more shining than his. He had no children, but his brothers were the founders of a family widely spread, many members of which have contributed to the honor of the name in every subsequent age. Countless branches have spread out from the same lineage under different names. The children of the late Dr. Nathaniel Bowditch, through both their father and mother, descended from a brother of Nathaniel Ingersoll.

Citations and extracts from documents on file will justify all I have said of this man.

Citations and excerpts from documents on file will back up everything I've said about this man.

His wife was a spirit kindred to his own. Their only child, a daughter, died when quite young. Their hearts demanded an object on which to exercise parental affection, and to give opportunity for benevolent care, within their own household; and they induced their neighbor, Joseph Hutchinson, who had several sons, to give one of them to be theirs by adoption. When this child had grown to manhood, a deed was recorded in the Essex Registry, Oct. 2, 1691, of which this is the purport:—

His wife was a kindred spirit. Their only child, a daughter, died when she was very young. They longed for someone to direct their parental love towards and to provide care for in their home; so, they convinced their neighbor, Joseph Hutchinson, who had several sons, to give one of them up for adoption. When this child grew up, a deed was recorded in the Essex Registry on October 2, 1691, which stated the following:—

"Benjamin Hutchinson, being an infant when he was given to us by his parents, we have brought him up as our own child; and he, the said Benjamin, living with us as an obedient son, until he came of one and twenty years of age, he then marrying from us, I, the said Nathaniel Ingersoll, and Hannah, my wife, on these considerations, do, upon the marriage of our adopted son, Benjamin Hutchinson, give and bequeath to him, his heirs and assigns for ever, this deed of gift of ten acres of upland, and also three acres of meadow," &c.

"Benjamin Hutchinson was just a baby when his parents gave him to us, and we raised him as our own child. He lived with us as a dutiful son until he turned twenty-one. After he got married, I, Nathaniel Ingersoll, and my wife, Hannah, on these grounds, do hereby, in light of our adopted son Benjamin Hutchinson's marriage, give and bequeath to him, his heirs, and assigns forever, this deed of gift for ten acres of upland, and also three acres of meadow," &c.

When Mr. Parris was settled, it occurred to Deacon[i.173] Ingersoll, that it would be very convenient for him to have a certain piece of ground between the parsonage land and the Andover road; and he gave him a deed, from which the following is an extract. It is dated Jan. 2, 1689.

When Mr. Parris was settled in, Deacon[i.173] Ingersoll thought it would be really useful for him to have a specific piece of land between the parsonage property and the Andover road; so he gave him a deed, of which the following is an extract. It is dated January 2, 1689.

"To all Christian people to whom this present writing shall come, Nathaniel Ingersoll, of Salem Village, in the county of Essex, sendeth greeting. Know ye, that the said Nathaniel Ingersoll, husbandman, and Hannah, his wife, for and in consideration of the love, respect, and honor which they justly bear unto the public worship of the true and only God, and therefore for the encouragement of their well-beloved pastor, the Rev. Samuel Parris, who hath lately taken that office amongst them, and also for and in consideration of a very small sum of money to them in hand paid, with which they do acknowledge themselves fully contented and satisfied, do grant to said Samuel Parris and Elizabeth, his wife, for life, and then to the children of said Samuel and Elizabeth Parris, four and a half acres of land, adjoining upon the home field of the said Nathaniel Ingersoll; the three acres on the south alienated by gift, and the remainder by sale."

"To all Christians who read this, Nathaniel Ingersoll of Salem Village, in Essex County, sends greetings. Know this: Nathaniel Ingersoll, a farmer, and his wife Hannah, out of their love, respect, and honor for the public worship of the one true God, and to support their beloved pastor, Rev. Samuel Parris, who has recently taken this role among them, along with a small sum of money they have received and are fully satisfied with, grant to Samuel Parris and his wife Elizabeth, for their lifetime, and then to the children of Samuel and Elizabeth Parris, four and a half acres of land next to Nathaniel Ingersoll's home field; three acres on the south given as a gift, and the remainder sold."

There was a fine young orchard on the land.

There was a beautiful young orchard on the land.

Joseph Houlton had conveyed to the parish a lot for the use of the ministry, attached to the parsonage house. A question having arisen in consequence of a lost deed, or some other imagined defect in the Houlton title, whether the land originally belonged to him or to Nathaniel Ingersoll, the latter disposed of it at once by an instrument recorded in the Essex Registry, of which the following is the substance:[i.174]

Joseph Houlton had given the parish a piece of land for the ministry, connected to the parsonage. A question came up because of a lost deed, or some other supposed issue with the Houlton title, regarding whether the land originally belonged to him or to Nathaniel Ingersoll. To resolve this quickly, Ingersoll sold it through an official document recorded in the Essex Registry, of which the following is a summary:[i.174]

"Nathaniel Ingersoll to the Trustees of Salem Village Ministry land, for divers good causes and considerations me thereunto moving, but more especially for the true love and desire I have to the peace and welfare of Salem Village wherein I dwell, I hereby release, &c., all my right and title to five acres described in my brother Houlton's deed of sale," &c.

"Nathaniel Ingersoll to the Trustees of Salem Village Ministry land, for various good reasons and motivations that drive me, but especially for my genuine love and desire for the peace and well-being of Salem Village where I live, I hereby release, &c., all my rights and title to five acres described in my brother Houlton's deed of sale," &c.

In the same Registry, the following extract is found, in a deed dated Jan. 28, 1708:—

In the same Registry, the following extract is found in a deed dated Jan. 28, 1708:—

"For the desire I have that children may be educated in Salem Village, I freely give four poles square of land to Rev. Joseph Green, to have and to hold the same, not for his own particular use, but for the setting a schoolhouse upon, and the encouragement of a school in this place."

"For my wish that children can get an education in Salem Village, I willingly give four square poles of land to Rev. Joseph Green, to hold and use, not for his personal benefit, but for building a schoolhouse and supporting a school here."

The Essex Registry has a deed dated Jan. 6, 1714, of which the following is the substance:—

The Essex Registry has a deed dated January 6, 1714, of which the following is the content:—

"For the good affection that I bear unto Deacon Edward Putnam, and the desire that I have of his comfortable attendance upon the public worship of God, I have freely given unto him, the said Deacon Edward Putnam, of Salem aforesaid, for him and his heirs for ever, a piece of land, bounded northerly upon the land of Joseph Green, next to his orchard gate, westerly on the highway, and southerly and easterly on my land."

"For the strong affection I have for Deacon Edward Putnam and my wish for his regular attendance at public worship, I have freely given to him, Deacon Edward Putnam of Salem, for him and his heirs forever, a piece of land, which is bordered to the north by Joseph Green's land, next to his orchard gate, to the west by the highway, and to the south and east by my land."

Deacon Putnam was, at this time, sixty years of age. His homestead was at some distance; and it was often difficult for him to get to meeting. Ingersoll had always enjoyed the convenience of having only a few rods to go to the place of worship; and he desired to[i.175] have his beloved colleague enjoy the same privilege. Besides, he longed to have him near. The proffer was probably accepted. We find that church-meetings were held at the house of Deacon Putnam, which would not probably so often have been the case, had he remained on his farm; and we know that there were two dwelling-houses, some time afterwards, on the Ingersoll lot. It was a pleasant arrangement: the two deacons and the minister being thus brought close together, and reaching each other through Ingersoll's garden and the minister's orchard. Of the personal friendship, attachment, and genial affection between the two good old deacons, the foregoing extract is a pleasing illustration.

Deacon Putnam was sixty years old at this time. His home was quite a distance away, making it difficult for him to attend church. Ingersoll had always enjoyed the convenience of living just a short walk from the place of worship, and he wanted his dear colleague to enjoy the same benefit. Plus, he really wanted to have him close by. The offer was probably accepted. We find that church meetings were held at Deacon Putnam's house, which likely wouldn’t have happened so often if he had stayed on his farm; and we know that there were two houses built later on the Ingersoll lot. It was a nice setup: the two deacons and the minister were close together and could reach each other through Ingersoll's garden and the minister's orchard. The personal friendship, bond, and warm affection between the two good old deacons are nicely illustrated in the above passage.

Nathaniel Ingersoll's property was never very large; and, as he had enjoyed the luxury, all his life long, of benevolence and beneficence, there was no great amount to be left after suitably providing for his wife. But there was enough to enable him to express the family affection to which he was always true, and to give a parting assurance of his devotion to the church and people of the village. By his will, certain legacies were required to be paid by the residuary legatee and final heir within a reasonable time specified in the document. It bears date July 8, 1709, and was offered for Probate, Feb. 17, 1719. It begins thus:—

Nathaniel Ingersoll's property was never very large; and since he had enjoyed a life full of kindness and generosity, there wasn't much left after making sure his wife was taken care of. But there was enough to show the family love he always had and to give a final promise of his commitment to the church and the people of the village. His will required that certain legacies be paid by the remaining heir within a reasonable time stated in the document. It is dated July 8, 1709, and was presented for Probate on Feb. 17, 1719. It starts like this:—

"In the name of God, Amen. I, Nathaniel Ingersoll, of Salem, in the county of Essex, in the Province of Massachutetts Bay, in New England, being through God's mercy in good health of body and of perfect memory, but not[i.176] knowing how soon my great change may come, do make this my last will, in manner and form following: First, I give up my soul to God, in and through Jesus Christ my Redeemer, when he shall please to call for it, hoping for a glorious resurrection, in and through his merits; and my body to decent burial, at the discretion of my executors; and, as for the worldly estate God hath been pleased to give me, I dispose of it in the manner following," &c.

"In the name of God, Amen. I, Nathaniel Ingersoll, of Salem, in Essex County, in the Province of Massachusetts Bay, New England, being in good health and of sound mind, but not knowing how soon my time may come, do make this my last will as follows: First, I give my soul to God, through Jesus Christ my Redeemer, when He sees fit to call for it, hoping for a glorious resurrection through His merits; and my body to a respectful burial as determined by my executors; and concerning the worldly estate that God has chosen to give me, I dispose of it in the following manner," &c.

He gives a small sum of money, varying from thirty shillings to four pounds, to each and every nephew and niece then living, twenty-two in number. He provides for an annuity of twenty shillings a year for a sister, the only remaining member of his own immediate family, to be paid into the hands of the daughter who took care of her. Not being able to leave a large amount to any, he preferred to express his love for all. There were two items in the will which may be specially preserved from oblivion.

He gives a small amount of money, ranging from thirty shillings to four pounds, to each of his twenty-two living nephews and nieces. He sets up an annuity of twenty shillings a year for a sister, the only surviving member of his immediate family, to be paid to the daughter who looked after her. Since he couldn't leave a large sum to anyone, he chose to show his love for everyone. There were two items in the will that should be especially remembered.

"I give to the church in Salem Village the sum of fifty shillings in money, for the more adorning the Lord's Table, to be laid out in some silver cup, at the discretion of the Pastor, Deacons, and my overseers."—"After my wife's decease, I give to Benjamin (my adopted son) who was very dutiful to me, while he lived with me, and helpful to me since he has gone from me, all the remaining part of my whole estate, both real and personal,—excepting a small parcel of land of about two acres, that lyeth between Mrs. Walcots and George Wyotts by the highway, which I give to the inhabitants of Salem Village, for a training place for ever."

"I give the church in Salem Village fifty shillings in cash to enhance the Lord's Table, to be spent on a silver cup, decided by the Pastor, Deacons, and my overseers."—"After my wife's passing, I give my adopted son Benjamin, who was very caring while living with me and has continued to be helpful since, the rest of my entire estate, both real and personal—except for a small piece of land of about two acres located between Mrs. Walcot's and George Wyott's by the highway, which I give to the residents of Salem Village for a training ground forever."

The bonds required of the executors by the Probate Court were to the amount of two hundred pounds only, showing that his movable or personal estate was a very moderate one. There is a feature in the will, which is, I think, worthy of being mentioned, as evincing the excellent judgment and practical wisdom of this man.

The bonds required from the executors by the Probate Court were only for two hundred pounds, indicating that his personal assets were quite modest. There's a detail in the will that I believe is worth mentioning, as it shows the excellent judgment and practical wisdom of this man.

"I give to Hannah, my well-beloved wife, the use and improvement of my whole estate during her natural life: and my will is, that, if my wife should marry again, he that she so marrieth, before she marry, shall give sufficient security to my overseers not to make strip or waste upon any of my estate; and, if he do not become so bound, I give one-half of my whole estate to Benjamin Hutchinson, at the time of my wife's marriage."

"I give to Hannah, my beloved wife, the right to use and benefit from my entire estate for the rest of her life. However, if she decides to remarry, her new husband must provide adequate assurance to my overseers that he won't misuse or waste any part of my estate. If he fails to do so, I give half of my entire estate to Benjamin Hutchinson at the time of my wife's marriage."

He did not cut her off entirely, as is sometimes attempted to be done, in the event of a second marriage, but secured her and the estate against suffering in case she took that step. He adopted an effectual method to prevent any one from seeking to marry her for the purpose of getting the benefit of her whole income and a comfortable establishment upon his property without providing for its preservation; and, if she should be so improvident as to marry again without having his conditions complied with, he took care that she should not thereby expose to injury or loss more than one-half of his estate. Ingenuity is much exercised in making wills, particularly in reference to the rights, interests, and security of wives. It is worthy of consideration, whether, all things considered, Nathaniel[i.178] Ingersoll's plan is not about as skilful and just as any that has been devised.

He didn't completely cut her off, as is often done in the case of a second marriage, but instead made sure she and the estate would be protected if she chose to remarry. He came up with a solid way to stop anyone from wanting to marry her just to get her entire income and a comfortable life on his property without ensuring it would be maintained. And if she were to act irresponsibly and marry again without meeting his terms, he made sure that she wouldn't risk losing more than half of his estate. Creating wills requires a lot of cleverness, especially when it comes to the rights, interests, and security of wives. It's worth thinking about whether Nathaniel[i.178] Ingersoll's plan is just as clever and fair as any others that have been created.

We shall meet this man again in the course of our story. I trust to your good feeling in vindication of the space I have given to his biography; being strongly impressed with a conviction, that you will agree with me,—taking into view the influence he constantly exerted, his steadfast integrity and honor, his personal dignity and public spirit,—that the life of this citizen of a retired rural community, this plain "husbandman," is itself a monument to his memory more truly glorious than many which have been reared to perpetuate the names of men whom the world has called great. The "training place" has been carefully preserved. Occupying a central point, by the side of the principal street, this pretty lawn is a fitting memorial of the Father of the village. In its proper character, as a training-field, it is invested with an interest not elsewhere surpassed, if equalled. Within its enclosure the elements of the military art have been imparted to a greater number of persons distinguished in their day, and who have left an imperishable glory behind them as the defenders of the country, a brave yeomanry in arms, than on any other spot. It was probably used as a training field at the first settlement of the village. From the slaughter of Bloody Brook, the storming of the Narragansett Fort, and all the early Indian wars; from the Heights of Abraham, Lake George, Lexington, Bunker Hill, Brandywine, Pea Ridge, and a hundred other battle-fields, a lustre[i.179] is reflected back upon this village parade-ground. It is associated with all the military traditions of the country, down to the late Rebellion. Lothrop, Davenport, Gardners, Dodges, Raymonds, Putnams, Porters, Hutchinsons, Herricks, Flints, and others, who here taught or learned the manual and drill, are names inscribed on the rolls of history for deeds of heroism and prowess.

We'll meet this man again as our story unfolds. I trust you'll understand why I've spent time on his biography; I believe you'll agree with me—considering the influence he had, his unwavering integrity and honor, his personal dignity, and his commitment to the public—that the life of this citizen from a quiet rural community, this humble "farmer," is itself a tribute to his memory more genuinely glorious than many monuments built to honor those whom the world calls great. The "training place" has been well preserved. Sitting at a central location next to the main street, this lovely lawn serves as a fitting memorial to the village's founder. As a training ground, it holds an interest that’s unmatched, if not equaled. Within its boundaries, the skills of military discipline have been taught to many distinguished individuals of their time, who have left behind an everlasting legacy as defenders of the country—a brave militia—more so than any other place. It was probably used as a training ground since the village was first established. From the tragedy of Bloody Brook, the assault on the Narragansett Fort, and all the early Indian wars; from the Heights of Abraham, Lake George, Lexington, Bunker Hill, Brandywine, Pea Ridge, and countless other battlefields, a glory [i.179] is reflected back onto this village parade ground. It is linked with all the military traditions of the nation, even up to the recent conflict. Lothrop, Davenport, Gardners, Dodges, Raymonds, Putnams, Porters, Hutchinsons, Herricks, Flints, and others who taught or learned the manual and drill here are names recorded in history for acts of bravery and skill.

There was the usual diversity and variety of character among the people of the village. John Procter originally lived in Ipswich, where he, as well as his father before him, had a farm of considerable value. In 1666, or about that time, he removed to Salem, and carried on the Downing farm, which had before been leased to the Flints. After a while, Procter purchased a part of it. If a conclusion can be drawn from the prevalent type of his posterity of our day, he was a man of herculean frame. There is, I think, a tradition to this effect. At any rate, his character was of that stamp. He had great native force and energy. He was bold in his spirit and in his language,—an upright man, no doubt, as the whole tone of the memorials of him indicate, but free and imprudent in speech, impulsive in feeling, and sometimes rash in action. He was liable from this cause, as we shall see, to get into contention and give offence. There was Jeremiah Watts, a representative of a class of men existing in every community where the intellect is stimulated and idiosyncrasies allowed to develop themselves. By occupation he was a dish-turner, but by temperament an enthu[i.180]siast, a zealot, and an agitator. He was not satisfied with things as they were, nor willing to give time an opportunity to improve them. He took hold of the horns of the altar with daring hands. He denounced the Church and the world,—undertook to overturn every thing, and to put all on a new foundation. He entered on a crusade against what he called "pulpit preaching," whereby particular persons, called ministers, "may deliver what they please, and none must object; and this we must pay largely for; our bread must be taken out of our mouths, to maintain the beast's mark; and be wholly deprived of our Christian privileges. This is the time of Antichrist's reign, and he must reign this time: now are the witnesses slain, and the leaders in churches are these slayers. But I see plainly that it is a vain thing to debate about these things with our fellow-brethren; for they are all for lording it, and trampling under foot." This man imagined that he "was singled out alone to give his testimony for Christ, discovering Antichrist's marks." "If any," he cried out, "will be faithful for Christ, they must witness against Antichrist, which is self-love, and lovers of pleasure more than lovers of God. The witnesses are now slain, but shortly they will rise again," &c. He tried to get up "private Christian meetings," to run an opposition to "pulpit preaching." After going about from house to house, declaiming in this style, denouncing all who would not fall in with his notions and act with him, and not succeeding in overthrowing things in general, he hit upon a new ex[i.181]pedient. As his neighbors had wit enough to let him alone, and did not suffer themselves to be tempted to resort to the civil power to make him keep quiet, he did it himself. He instituted proceedings against the ministers and churches, on the charge, that, by taking the rule into their own hands, they were supplanting the magistrates and usurping the civil power. This was not in itself a bad move; but the Court wisely declined to engage in the proceedings. They neither prosecuted the case nor him, but let the whole go by. They adhered severely to the do-nothing policy. What a world of mischief would have been avoided, if all courts, everywhere, at all times, had shown an equal wisdom! Watts was allowed to vex the village, torment the minister, and perplex those who listened to him by the ingenuity and ability with which he urged his views. He continued his brawling declamations until he was tired; but, not being noticed by ministers or magistrates, no great harm was done, and he probably subsided into a quiet and respectable citizen.

There was the usual mix of characters among the villagers. John Procter originally lived in Ipswich, where he and his father before him owned a valuable farm. In 1666, or around that time, he moved to Salem and took over the Downing farm, which had previously been rented out to the Flints. After a while, Procter bought part of it. If we look at the typical traits of his descendants today, he must have been a very strong man. I believe there’s a tradition about that. Anyway, his character reflected that strength. He had a lot of natural force and energy. He was bold in both spirit and speech—an upright man for sure, as all the records of him suggest, but he was also outspoken and careless in his words, impulsive in his feelings, and sometimes reckless in his actions. This tendency made him prone to conflicts and could offend others. Then there was Jeremiah Watts, who represented a type of person found in every community where intellect is encouraged and individuality is allowed to flourish. By trade, he was a dish-turner, but in temperament, he was an enthusiast, a zealot, and a troublemaker. He wasn’t happy with things as they were and didn’t want to wait for time to make improvements. He boldly challenged the status quo. He denounced the Church and society, trying to overturn everything and start fresh. He launched a crusade against what he called “pulpit preaching,” where certain individuals, known as ministers, could say whatever they wanted with no objections, and for which the community had to pay dearly—taking food from their mouths to support these figures while being stripped of their Christian rights. “This is the time of Antichrist’s reign, and he must reign now: the witnesses are slain, and the church leaders are those slayers. But I see it’s pointless to debate these matters with my fellow believers; they’re all about dominating and stepping on others.” This man believed he was singled out to give his testimony for Christ, revealing the marks of Antichrist. “If anyone,” he shouted, “wants to be faithful to Christ, they must stand against Antichrist, which is self-love and a preference for pleasure over love for God. The witnesses have been slain, but soon they will rise again,” etc. He tried to start “private Christian meetings” to oppose “pulpit preaching.” After going from house to house, speaking in this manner and condemning anyone who wouldn’t agree with him or join him, and failing to make a general change, he came up with a new tactic. Since his neighbors were wise enough to ignore him and didn’t ask the civil authority to silence him, he took it upon himself. He initiated actions against the ministers and churches, claiming that by taking matters into their own hands, they were undermining the magistrates and taking over civil power. This wasn’t a bad strategy on its own; however, the Court wisely chose not to get involved. They neither pursued the case nor him but let the matter fade away. They stuck firmly to a do-nothing policy. How much trouble could have been avoided if all courts everywhere had shown the same good judgment! Watts was allowed to pest the village, annoy the minister, and confuse those who listened to him with how skillfully he presented his opinions. He continued his loud speeches until he got bored; but since neither ministers nor magistrates paid him any attention, no real harm was done, and he probably settled down into a quiet, respectable life.

The prominent place Giles Corey is to occupy in the scene before us renders an account of him particularly necessary. It is not easy to describe him. He was a very singular person. His manner of life and general bearing and conversation were so disregardful, in many particulars, of the conventional proprieties of his day, that it is not safe to receive implicitly the statements made by his contemporaries. By his peculiarities of some sort, he got a bad name. In the Book of Records of the First Church in Salem, where[i.182] his public profession of religion is recorded, he is spoken of as a man of eighty years of age, and of a "scandalous life," but who made a confession of his sins satisfactory to that body. It cannot be denied that he was regarded in this light by some; but there is no reason to believe, that, in referring to the sinfulness of his past life, the old man meant more than was usually understood by such language on such occasions. He was often charged with criminal acts; but in every instance the charge was proved to be either wholly unfounded or greatly exaggerated. He had a good many contentions and rough passages; but they were the natural consequences, when a bold and strong man was put upon the defensive, or drawn to the offensive, by the habit of inconsiderate aspersion into which some of his neighbors had been led, and the bad repute put upon him by scandal-mongers. He was evidently an industrious, hard-working man. He was a person of some means, a holder of considerable property in lands and other forms. Deeds are often found on record from and to him. He owned meadows near Ipswich River. His homestead, during the last thirty years of his life, was a farm of more than a hundred acres of very valuable land, which has been in the possession of the family, now owning it, for a hundred years. The present proprietor, Mr. Benjamin Taylor, some twenty years ago, ploughed up the site of Corey's dwelling-house; the vestiges of the cellar being then quite visible. It was near the crossing of the Salem and Lowell, and Georgetown and Boston Railroads,[i.183] about three hundred feet to the west of the crossing, and close to the track of the former road, on its south side. The spot is surrounded by beautiful fields; and their aspect shows that it must have been, in all respects, an eligible estate. What is now known as "the Curtis Field" is a part of Corey's farm.

The important role Giles Corey plays in this scene makes it necessary to give an account of him. It's not easy to describe him. He was quite an unusual person. His lifestyle and general demeanor often ignored the social norms of his time, so it's not safe to fully trust what his contemporaries said about him. Due to his peculiarities, he earned a bad reputation. In the Book of Records of the First Church in Salem, where[i.182] his public declaration of faith is noted, he is described as an eighty-year-old man with a "scandalous life," although he made a confession of his sins that satisfied the church. Some certainly saw him this way, but there's no reason to think that when referring to the sins of his past, he meant anything more than what was typically understood by such statements on these occasions. He was often accused of criminal behavior, but in every case, the accusations turned out to be either completely false or greatly exaggerated. He had many disputes and rough encounters, which were the natural outcome when a bold and strong man is put on the defensive or forced to confront the baseless slander some of his neighbors directed at him, along with the negative reputation spread by gossipers. He was clearly a hardworking man. He had some wealth, owning a considerable amount of land and property. Deeds involving him are frequently found on record. He owned meadows near Ipswich River. For the last thirty years of his life, his home was a farm of over a hundred acres of very valuable land, which has been in his family’s possession for a hundred years. The current owner, Mr. Benjamin Taylor, plowed over the site of Corey’s house about twenty years ago, with the remains of the cellar still visible. It was near the intersection of the Salem and Lowell, and Georgetown and Boston Railroads,[i.183] about three hundred feet west of the crossing, close to the track of the former road on its south side. The area is surrounded by lovely fields, which indicate that it must have been a desirable estate. What is now called "the Curtis Field" is part of Corey’s farm.

Giles Corey lived previously, for some time, in the town of Salem. He sold his house there in 1659. The contract with a carpenter for building his farmhouse is preserved. It was stipulated to be erected "where he shall appoint." While the carpenter was getting out the materials, he selected and bought the farm, on which he lived ever afterwards. The house was to be "twenty feet in length, fifteen in breadth, and eight feet stud." Nothing strikes us more, as strange and unaccountable, than the small size of houses in those days. One would have thought, that, where wood was so plenty and near at hand, and land of no account, they would have built larger houses. In a letter, dated Nov. 16, 1646, from Governor Winthrop to his son John, of Connecticut, he gives an account "of a tempest (than which I never observed a greater);" and mentions that the roof of "Lady Moody's house, at Salem," with all of the chimney above it, was blown off in two parts, and "carried six or eight rods. Ten persons lay under it, and knew not of it till they arose in the morning." The house had a flat roof, was of one story, and nine feet in height! Lady Deborah Moody was a person of high position, a connection of Sir Henry Vane, and a[i.184] woman of property. She bought Mr. Humphreys' great plantation. But, like Townsend Bishop, she was dealt with, and compelled to quit the colony, on account of her doubts about infant baptism. Winthrop calls her a "wise and anciently religious woman." She went to Long Island, where her influence was so important, that Governor Stuyvesant consulted her in his administration, and conceded to her the nomination of magistrates. It seems very strange that such a lady should have had a house only nine feet high. The early houses were built either as temporary structures or with a view to enlargement. Perhaps Lady Moody intended to add a story to hers. They were low-studded for warmth. The farm-houses generally were designed to be increased in length, when convenience required. The chimney was very large, placed at one end, and so constructed, that, on the extension of the building, fire-places could be opened into it on the new end. A building of twenty feet was prepared to become one of forty feet in width or length, as the case might be; and then the chimney would be in the middle of it.

Giles Corey lived in Salem for a while before selling his house there in 1659. The contract with a carpenter to build his farmhouse still exists. It was specified to be built "where he shall appoint." While the carpenter was gathering materials, he chose and purchased the farm where he would live from then on. The house was to be "twenty feet in length, fifteen in breadth, and eight feet tall." It's striking how small houses were back then. One might assume that, with an abundance of wood and inexpensive land, they would have built larger homes. In a letter dated November 16, 1646, from Governor Winthrop to his son John in Connecticut, he describes "a storm (which I have never seen greater)" and mentions how the roof of "Lady Moody's house, at Salem," along with the entire chimney above it, was blown off in two pieces and "carried six or eight rods. Ten people were underneath it and had no idea until they woke up in the morning." The house had a flat roof, was a single story, and stood nine feet tall! Lady Deborah Moody was a prominent person, related to Sir Henry Vane, and a wealthy woman. She purchased Mr. Humphreys' large plantation. However, like Townsend Bishop, she faced opposition and was forced to leave the colony due to her beliefs about infant baptism. Winthrop describes her as a "wise and deeply religious woman." She moved to Long Island, where her influence was significant enough that Governor Stuyvesant sought her advice in his administration and allowed her to nominate magistrates. It seems odd that such an important person would live in a house only nine feet tall. Early houses were often built as temporary structures or with the intention of expanding later. Perhaps Lady Moody planned to add another story to hers. They were built low for warmth. Farmhouses were usually designed to be extended in length when convenient. The chimney was quite large, situated at one end, and designed so that when the building was extended, fireplaces could be added to it at the new end. A building originally twenty feet was meant to become one that could be forty feet wide or long, depending on the situation; then the chimney would be in the center.

As has been intimated, Corey was in bad repute. Either he was a lawless man, or much misunderstood. I am inclined to the latter opinion. He belonged to that class of persons, instances of which we occasionally meet, who care little about the opinions or the talk of others. On one occasion, he was going into town with a cartload of wood. He met Anthony Needham, in company with John Procter whose house[i.185] he had just passed. Procter accosted him thus: "How now, Giles, wilt thou never leave thy old trade? Thou hast got some of my wood here upon thy cart." Corey answered, "True, I did take two or three sticks to lay behind the cart to ease the oxen, because they bore too hard." This shows the free way in which Procter bantered with Corey, and the slight account the latter made of it. But the thing before long got to be too serious to be trifled with. It became the fashion to charge all sorts of offences against Corey; and, whatever any one lost or mislaid, he was considered as having abstracted it. The gossip against him was quite unrestrained, and created a bitter and angry feeling in the neighborhood. In the winter of 1676, a man named Goodell, who had been working on Corey's farm, was carried home to his friends by Corey's wife, in a feeble state of health, and died soon after. It was whispered about, and before long openly asserted, that he had come to his death in consequence of having been violently beaten by Corey, who was accordingly arrested and brought to trial for killing the man. There was a great excitement against him. He probably had punished the man severely for some alleged misconduct; and it was charged that the castigation had been so unmerciful and excessive as to have broken down his constitution and caused his death. There was conflicting evidence going to show that the man had been beaten, for some misconduct, after he had returned to his family. It was a circumstance in favor of Corey, that his wife[i.186] had taken the invalid to his home; and there was no evidence of any ill feeling between her and the sick man during a stop they made at Procter's house on their way. The death, too, it was supposed by some, might have resulted from ordinary disease, and not from whipping, either at Corey's or at home. The result was, that, notwithstanding the prejudice against Corey, he was discharged on paying a fine; showing that the Court did not consider it a very serious offence. We shall hear of this affair again.

As mentioned earlier, Corey had a bad reputation. He was either a lawless man or simply misunderstood. I lean toward the latter view. He was part of that group of people who don’t care much about what others think or say. One time, he was heading into town with a cartload of wood when he ran into Anthony Needham, along with John Procter, whose house[i.185] they had just passed. Procter greeted him, saying, "Hey, Giles, are you ever going to quit your old ways? You've got some of my wood on your cart." Corey replied, "True, I took two or three sticks to place behind the cart to ease the oxen, since they were struggling.” This shows how casually Procter joked with Corey and how little Corey thought of it. However, the situation soon turned serious. It became the trend to accuse Corey of all sorts of offenses, and anything anyone lost or misplaced was believed to have been taken by him. The rumors against him were rampant, creating a bitter and hostile atmosphere in the neighborhood. In the winter of 1676, a man named Goodell, who had worked on Corey's farm, was taken home by Corey's wife in poor health and died shortly afterward. It was whispered and soon publicly claimed that he died because Corey had beaten him severely. Corey was arrested and put on trial for killing the man. There was a lot of public outrage against him. He likely had punished the man harshly for some alleged wrongdoing, and people claimed the beating was so severe that it weakened him and led to his death. There was conflicting evidence suggesting the man had been beaten for some misconduct after returning to his family. It was a point in Corey's favor that his wife[i.186] had taken the invalid home, and there was no sign of any tension between her and the sick man during a stop they made at Procter's house. Some believed that his death might have been caused by a common illness rather than from a beating, whether from Corey or at home. Ultimately, despite the bias against Corey, he was released after paying a fine, indicating that the court didn’t see it as a very serious offense. We’ll hear more about this situation later.

In the year 1678, there was a suit at law between Corey and a man named John Gloyd, a laborer on his farm, on a question of wages. The case was, by agreement of the parties, passed out of court into the hands of arbitrators mutually chosen. John Procter was one of the arbitrators, and, as it would seem, chosen as the friend of Gloyd: Nathaniel Putnam and Edmund Bridges were the others; one of them chosen by Corey, and the other mutually agreed upon. They brought in their award. Its precise character is not stated; but the circumstances indicate that it was favorable to Gloyd. The conduct of Corey on this occasion shows, that, though a rough man perhaps, and liable, from his peculiar ways, to be harshly spoken of, he had, after all, a generous, forgiving, and genial nature. Nathaniel Putnam and Edmund Bridges state, that, when they brought in their award, "it was greatly to the satisfaction of the parties concerned; and Giles Corey did manifest as much satisfaction, and gave as many thanks to every one of us, as[i.187] ever we heard; and Goodman Corey did manifest, to our observation, as much satisfaction to John Procter as he did to the rest of the arbitrators." Captain Moore, being by when the award was brought in, says, "I did see and take notice of the abundance of love manifested from Corey to Procter, and from Procter to Corey: for they drank wine together; and Procter paid for part, and Corey for part."

In 1678, there was a legal dispute between Corey and a man named John Gloyd, a worker on his farm, regarding wages. The parties agreed to take the case out of court and submit it to mutually chosen arbitrators. John Procter was one of the arbitrators, seemingly selected as Gloyd’s friend; Nathaniel Putnam and Edmund Bridges were the others, with one chosen by Corey and the other agreed upon by both. They delivered their decision, which isn’t detailed, but the situation suggests it favored Gloyd. Corey’s behavior during this event shows that, although he might have been a rough man and could sometimes be harshly judged for his unusual ways, he ultimately had a generous, forgiving, and kind nature. Nathaniel Putnam and Edmund Bridges noted that when they announced their decision, "it was greatly satisfying to the parties involved; and Giles Corey expressed his satisfaction and thanked each of us as much as we had ever seen; and Goodman Corey showed as much satisfaction to John Procter as he did to the other arbitrators." Captain Moore, who was present when the decision was revealed, remarked, "I noticed the great affection shown between Corey and Procter, and from Procter to Corey: they shared wine together; Procter paid for some, and Corey for the rest."

This remarkable overflow of affection between these two men is rendered interesting, not merely by the collisions into which, before and after, their impulsive and imprudent natures brought them, but by the part they were destined to enact in an impending tragedy, which was to bring them to a fearful end in a manner and on a scene that will arrest the notice of all ages, and attest to their strong characters and heroic spirit. The passage has a unique interest, and is worthy of a painter.

This impressive display of affection between these two men becomes intriguing not just because of the conflicts their impulsive and reckless natures led them into, but also due to the roles they were meant to play in an upcoming tragedy that would lead to a shocking conclusion in a way and on a stage that will capture the attention of future generations, highlighting their strong personalities and heroic spirit. This moment is particularly captivating and deserves to be captured by an artist.

It happened unfortunately, that, a few days after the loving embraces of these hardy men, Procter's house took fire. According to their habit, some of the neighbors at once started the idea, that Corey had set fire to it because of the award of the arbitrators, of whom Procter was one. Under the excitement of the conflagration, with his usual rashness, and forgetting the pledges of reconciliation that had just passed between them, Procter fell in with the accusation, and Corey was brought to trial. It appeared, in evidence, that John Phelps and Thomas Fuller, who lived on the western borders of the village, near Ipswich[i.188] River, coming along the road towards Procter's Corner about two hours before daylight, on the way probably to Salem market, saw his roof on fire, gave the alarm, and stopped to help put it out. Thomas Gould and Thomas Flint thought it must be the work of an incendiary, or of "an evil hand," as they expressed it, from the place where it took and the hour when it occurred. On the other hand, it was testified by James Poland and Caleb and Jane Moore, that they heard John Procter say that his boy carried a lamp and set the fire by accident. This was said by him, probably before the idea of Corey's agency in the matter had been put into his head. The prisoner proved an alibi by the most conclusive evidence, which is so curious, as giving an insight of a farmer's life at that time, and of Corey's domestic condition, that it may well be inserted.

Unfortunately, just a few days after the warm embraces of these tough men, Procter's house caught fire. As usual, some neighbors quickly suggested that Corey had started the fire because of the arbitrators' decision, which included Procter. In the heat of the moment, and forgetting the promises of reconciliation they had just made, Procter went along with the accusation, and Corey was put on trial. Evidence showed that John Phelps and Thomas Fuller, who lived on the western edge of the village near Ipswich[i.188] River, were traveling on the road toward Procter's Corner about two hours before dawn, likely on their way to the Salem market, and saw his roof ablaze. They raised the alarm and stopped to help extinguish the flames. Thomas Gould and Thomas Flint believed it must have been the work of an arsonist, or as they put it, "an evil hand," because of where the fire started and the time it occurred. On the other hand, James Poland and Caleb and Jane Moore testified that they heard John Procter say his son accidentally set the fire while carrying a lamp. He probably made this remark before the thought of Corey being involved had been suggested to him. The defendant provided a solid alibi backed by strong evidence, which offers a fascinating glimpse into a farmer's life at that time and into Corey's family situation, making it worth including.

Abraham Walcot testifies, that, "Tuesday night last was a week, I lodged at Giles Corey's house, which night John Procter's house was damaged by fire; and Giles Corey went to bed before nine o'clock, and rose about sunrise again, and could not have gone out of the house but I should have heard him; and it must have been impossible that he should have gone to Procter's house that night; for he cannot in a long time go afoot, and, for his horse-kind, they were all in the woods. And further testifieth, that said Corey came home very weary from work, and went to bed the rather." His wife testified that he was in bed from nine o'clock until sunrise.[i.189]

Abraham Walcot testifies that, "Last Tuesday night, I stayed at Giles Corey's house, and that night, John Procter's house was damaged by fire. Giles Corey went to bed before nine o'clock and got up around sunrise. He couldn’t have left the house without me hearing him. It would have been impossible for him to go to Procter's house that night, because he hasn’t been able to walk for a long time, and as for his horses, they were all in the woods. Additionally, he came home very tired from work and went to bed earlier." His wife testified that he was in bed from nine o'clock until sunrise.[i.189]

John Parker, one of Corey's four sons-in-law, testified as follows: "I being at work with my father, Goodman Corey, the day Goodman Procter's house was on fire. I going home with my father the night before, he complained that he was very weary, and said he would go to bed. I did, on our way going, ask him whether or no he would eat his supper: my father answered me again, no, he could not eat any thing that night; and so went to bed, and so I left him abed. And, the next morning, my father came to me about sun-rising, and asked me to go with Abraham Walcot to fetch a load of hay; and my father said he would try whether or not he could cart up a load of peas. I do also testify that he had no horse-kind near at home at that time."

John Parker, one of Corey's four sons-in-law, testified this way: "I was working with my father, Goodman Corey, the day Goodman Procter's house caught fire. When I was walking home with my father the night before, he mentioned that he was very tired and said he would go to bed. I asked him if he wanted to eat dinner, and my father replied that he couldn’t eat anything that night; so he went to bed, and I left him there. The next morning, my father came to me at sunrise and asked me to go with Abraham Walcot to get a load of hay; he said he would see if he could haul a load of peas. I also testify that there were no horses close to home at that time."

John Gloyd, the hired man, with whom he had the lawsuit that had been settled a day or two before by arbitrators, testified, in corroboration of Parker, and to show that the latter could not have had any thing to do with the fire, that he slept in the same room with said Parker that night, and that he came to bed between nine and ten o'clock in the evening, and never rose until the break of day. Gloyd's wife testified to the same effect. There turned out to be no evidence against Corey whatever, but abundant proof of his innocence. The hard-working, "weary" old man was triumphantly acquitted. He thought, however, from this high-handed and utterly groundless attempt to wrong and ruin him, and from calumnious general statements that had been made against him in the[i.190] course of the trial, that it was time to put a stop to the malignant and mischievous slanders which had been current in the neighborhood. He instituted prosecutions of Procter and others for defamation, and recovered against them all. After this, we hear no more of him until he experienced religion and was received into the First Church. Whether he and Procter became reconciled again is not known. Probably they did; for they seem to have had points of attraction, and each of them traits of kind-heartedness and generosity, under a rather rough exterior. The manner in which they bore themselves in their last hours is a matter of history, and stamps them both with true manliness.

John Gloyd, the hired man who had the lawsuit that was settled a day or two before by arbitrators, testified in support of Parker to show he couldn't have been involved in the fire. Gloyd said he slept in the same room with Parker that night, went to bed between nine and ten o'clock, and didn’t get up until morning. Gloyd's wife confirmed this as well. There was no evidence against Corey at all, only plenty proving his innocence. The hardworking, "weary" old man was triumphantly cleared. However, he thought it was time to put an end to the false and harmful rumors circulating in the neighborhood due to the unfounded attempt to wrong and ruin him, as well as the defamatory statements made during the[i.190] trial. He pressed charges against Procter and others for defamation and won against all of them. After this, we don't hear about him again until he embraced religion and joined the First Church. It's unclear if he and Procter made amends, but it's likely since they seemed to have some commonalities and shared qualities of kindness and generosity beneath their rough exteriors. How they conducted themselves in their final days is a matter of record and reflects their true manliness.

The incidents which have now been related, and the peculiar traits of this man, are perhaps sufficient to account for the fact, that he was spoken of as a person of "a scandalous" life. He had afforded food for scandal; and it is not surprising, that, in a rural community, where but few topics for talk occur beyond the village boundaries, all should have participated, more or less, in criticising his ways, and that the various difficulties into which he had been drawn, and the charges against him, should have made him the object of much prejudice. His wife Martha was also a noticeable character. She was a professor of religion, a member of the village church, and found her chief happiness in attendance upon public worship and in private devotions. Much of her time—indeed, all that she could rescue from the labors of the household[i.191]—was spent in prayer. She was a woman of spirit and pluck, as we shall see.

The incidents that have just been recounted, along with the unusual traits of this man, likely explain why he was regarded as leading "a scandalous" life. He provided plenty of gossip, and it’s not surprising that in a small community, where there aren’t many topics beyond the village itself, everyone joined in, to varying degrees, in judging his behavior. The various troubles he encountered and the allegations against him made him the target of a lot of bias. His wife, Martha, was also a notable figure. She was religious, a member of the village church, and found her greatest joy in attending public services and engaging in private prayer. Much of her time—indeed, all she could manage aside from household chores[i.191]—was devoted to prayer. She was a woman of spirit and determination, as we’ll see.

Another notability of the village was Bridget Bishop. In 1666—then the widow Wasselbe—she was married to Thomas Oliver. After his death, she became the wife of Edward Bishop, who is spoken of as a "sawyer." This term did not describe the same occupation then to which it is almost wholly applied now. Firewood, in those days, was not, as a general thing, sawed, but chopped. The sawyer got out boards and joists, beams, and timber of all kinds, from logs; and before mills were constructed, or where they were not conveniently accessible, it was an indispensable employment, and held a high rank among the departments of useful industry. It was in constant requisition in shipyards. It was a manly form of labor, requiring a considerable outlay of apparatus, and developing finely the whole muscular organization. The implement employed, beside the ordinary tools, such as wedges, beetles, the broad-axe, chains, and crowbar, was a strong steel cutting-plate, of great breadth, with large teeth, highly polished and thoroughly wrought, some eight or ten feet in length, with a double handle, crossing the plate at each end at a right angle. It was worked by two men, and called a "pit-saw," because sometimes the man at the lower handle stood in a deep pit, dug for the purpose, and called a "saw-pit." But, among the early settlers, the usual method was to make a frame of strong timbers. The log to be sawed was raised by slings, or slid up an inclined plane, and[i.192] placed upon cross-beams. Above it, a scaffolding was made on which one man stood; the other stood on the ground below. They each held the saw by both hands, and worked in unison. The log was pushed along by handspikes as they reached the cross-timbers, and wedges were used to keep the cleft open, that the saw might work free. So important was this business considered, that, from time to time, the General Court regulated by law the rates of pay to the sawyer. If a farmer had suitable woodlands, he provided in many cases a saw-frame or saw-pit of his own, got out his logs, and worked them into boards or square timber for sale. This was a profitable business.

Another important person in the village was Bridget Bishop. In 1666—then known as the widow Wasselbe—she married Thomas Oliver. After his death, she became the wife of Edward Bishop, who worked as a "sawyer." This term didn’t refer to the same job that it does today. Back then, firewood was generally chopped rather than sawed. A sawyer would cut boards, joists, beams, and timber from logs; before mills were built or when they weren’t easily accessible, this job was essential and held significant value in various industries. It was frequently needed in shipyards. This type of work was physically demanding, requiring a lot of equipment and developing overall strength. The tools used, in addition to regular equipment like wedges, mallets, broad axes, chains, and crowbars, included a large steel cutting plate with big, polished teeth, about eight or ten feet long, with a double handle at each end. It was operated by two men and was called a "pit-saw" because sometimes the person at the lower handle stood in a deep pit dug specifically for this purpose, known as a "saw-pit." However, among early settlers, the common method was to create a frame from strong timbers. The log to be sawed was lifted using slings or slid up an incline and placed on cross-beams. Above it, a platform was constructed where one man stood; the other stood on the ground below. They each held the saw with both hands and worked together. The log was pushed along using handspikes as they reached the cross-timbers, and wedges were used to keep the cut open so the saw could move freely. This trade was so important that the General Court periodically regulated the pay for sawyers by law. If a farmer had suitable woodlands, he often built his own saw-frame or saw-pit and processed his logs into boards or square timber for sale. This was a profitable venture.

Edward Bishop had resided, for some seven years previous to the witchcraft delusion, within the limits of Salem, near the Beverly line. His wife Bridget was a singular character, not easily described. She kept a house of refreshment for travellers, and a shovel-board for the entertainment of her guests, and generally seems to have countenanced amusements and gayeties to an extent that exposed her to some scandal. She is described as wearing "a black cap and a black hat, and a red paragon bodice," bordered and looped with different colors. This would appear to have been rather a showy costume for the times. Her freedom from the austerity of Puritan manners, and disregard of conventional decorum in her conversation and conduct, brought her into disrepute; and the tongue of gossip was generally loosened against her. She was charged with witchcraft, and actually[i.193] 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[i.194] 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 out of her porch, and chased him from her premises. When he and the boy got back, they bore marks of the bad luck of the adventure. Such things had perhaps happened before, and it was found that whoever provoked her resentment was very likely to come off second best from the encounter; yet Bridget was a member of Mr. Hale's Church in Beverly, and retained her standing in full fellowship there. It must have been thought, by the pastor and members of that church, that no charge seriously affecting her moral or Christian character was justly imputable to her.

Edward Bishop had lived in Salem, near the Beverly line, for about seven years before the witchcraft hysteria. His wife, Bridget, was a unique person who was hard to describe. She ran a tavern for travelers and had a shovel-board for her guests' entertainment; she generally seemed to embrace fun and enjoyment, which led to some gossip about her. She was described as wearing "a black cap and a black hat, and a red paragon bodice," trimmed and looped with various colors. This outfit was likely quite flashy for that time. Her lack of strict Puritan decorum and her relaxed conversation and behavior made her a target for scandal, and people often talked about her. She was accused of witchcraft and even taken to trial for it in 1680, but she was acquitted; at that time, the public wasn't ready for the kind of witch hunts that would occur twelve years later. She continued to live her life boldly, ignoring the judgment from the pious and the idle gossip of the superstitious. She maintained her tavern, the shovel-board, and other amenities. However, she sometimes reacted strongly to the rumors about her being a witch, making it clear that it was better to leave her alone. One day, a man visited Samuel Shattuck's house, where a child was sick. He was a stranger to the family and clearly came to stir up trouble for Bridget Bishop. He pretended to feel sorry for the child and said, in a mysterious way, "We are all born, some to one thing, and some to another." The mother asked him what he thought her suffering child was meant for. He replied, "He is born to be bewitched and is bewitched: you have a neighbor who lives nearby, and she is a witch." The mother didn’t seem to suspect anything like that, but the man insisted he was telling the truth. He stirred her emotions and used vague hints and general descriptions to lead her to suspect Bridget Bishop. He said he would go see her and could prove she was bewitching her child. She agreed to let another of her boys go with him to show him the way. They went to Bridget's house and knocked on the door. Bridget opened it and asked what he wanted; he said he wanted a pot of cider. There was something in his manner that made her think he was up to no good. She ordered him to leave, grabbed a nearby spade, drove him off her porch, and chased him away from her property. When he and the boy returned, they showed signs of their bad luck. These kinds of incidents had probably happened before; it seemed that anyone who provoked her anger was likely to end up worse off. Yet, Bridget was a member of Mr. Hale's Church in Beverly and held her standing in good favor there. The pastor and members of the church must have believed that no serious accusations against her character or faith were warranted.

The traveller of to-day, in passing over Crane-river Bridge, approaching the present village of "The Plains," near the eastern end of the Townsend Bishop or Nurse farm, will notice a roadway by the side of the bridge descending through the brook and going up to rejoin the main road on the other side. Such turnouts are frequent by the side of bridges over small streams. They are refreshing and useful, cooling the feet and cleansing the fetlocks of horses, and washing the wheels of carriages. One afternoon, Edward Bishop, with his wife behind him on a pillion, was riding home from Salem. Two women, mounted in[i.195] the same way, joined them; and they chatted together pleasantly as their horses ambled along. When they came to the bridge, Bishop, probably merely for the fun of the thing, dashed down into the brook, instead of going over the bridge, to the great consternation and against the vehement remonstrances of his wife, who berated him soundly for his reckless disregard of her safety. They got through without accident; and the four jogged on together until the Bishops turned up to their house, and the other two kept on to their home in Beverly. But all the way from the bridge, until they parted company, Bishop was finding great fault with his wife, saying that he should not have been sorry if any mishap had occurred. She did not say much after her first fright and resentment were over; but he kept on talking very freely about her, and using some pretty hard language. This affair, which perhaps is not without a parallel in the occasional experiences of married life, was, with other things of an equally trivial and irrelevant character, brought to bear fatally against her at her trial on the charge of witchcraft, between seven and eight years afterward.

The traveler of today, crossing Crane-river Bridge and approaching the present village of "The Plains," near the eastern end of the Townsend Bishop or Nurse farm, will notice a road beside the bridge that descends into the brook and rises to reconnect with the main road on the other side. Such turnouts are common next to bridges over small streams. They are refreshing and useful, cooling the feet and cleaning the fetlocks of horses, as well as washing the wheels of carriages. One afternoon, Edward Bishop, with his wife riding behind him on a pillion, was heading home from Salem. Two women, mounted in the same manner, joined them; and they chatted pleasantly as their horses ambled along. When they reached the bridge, Bishop, probably just for fun, dashed down into the brook instead of going over the bridge, to the great dismay and loud objections of his wife, who scolded him for his reckless disregard for her safety. They made it through without incident, and the four continued on together until the Bishops turned off to their house, while the other two carried on to their home in Beverly. But all the way from the bridge until they parted ways, Bishop kept finding fault with his wife, saying he wouldn’t have minded if something bad had happened. She didn’t say much after her initial shock and anger wore off; but he kept talking freely about her and used some pretty harsh language. This incident, which is probably not uncommon in the occasional experiences of married life, would later be used against her at her trial for witchcraft, seven to eight years later.

I can find no evidence against the moral character of this woman. One person, at least, who participated largely in getting up accusations against her, acknowledged, in a death-bed repentance, the wrong she had done. Mr. Hale, the minister of the Beverly congregation, states, in a deposition, that a certain woman, "being in full communion in our church, came to me to desire that Goodwife Bishop, her neighbor, wife of[i.196] Edward Bishop, Jr., might not be permitted to receive the Lord's Supper in our church till she had given her satisfaction for some offences that were against her; namely, because the said Bishop did entertain people in her house at unseasonable hours in the night, to keep drinking and playing at shovel-board, whereby discord did arise in other families, and young people were in danger to be corrupted; that she knew these things, and had once gone into the house, and, finding some at shovel-board, had taken the pieces they played with and thrown them into the fire, and had reproved the said Bishop for promoting such disorders, but received no satisfaction from her about it." According to Mr. Hale's statement, the night after this complaint was brought to him, the woman was found to be distracted. "She continuing some time distracted, we sought the Lord by fasting and prayer." After a while, the woman recovered her senses, and, as Mr. Hale says he understood, expressed a suspicion "that she had been bewitched by Bishop's wife." He declares that he did not, at the time, countenance the idea, "hoping better of Goody Bishop." He says further, that he "inquired of Margaret King, who kept at or near the house," what she had observed concerning the woman who had been distracted. "She told me that she was much given to reading and searching the prophecies of Scripture." At length the woman appeared to have entirely recovered, went to Goody Bishop, gave satisfaction for what she had said and done against her, and they became[i.197] friends again. Mr. Hale goes on to say, "I was oft praying with and counselling of her before her death." She earnestly desired that "Edward Bishop might be sent for, that she might make friends with him. I asked her if she had wronged Edward Bishop. She said, not that she knew of, unless it were in taking his shovel-board pieces, when people were at play with them, and throwing them into the fire; and, if she did evil in it, she was very sorry for it, and desired he would be friends with her, or forgive her. This was the very day before she died." That night her distemper returned, and, in a paroxysm of insanity, she destroyed herself.

I can find no evidence against this woman's moral character. At least one person, who played a major role in making accusations against her, admitted on their deathbed the wrong they had done. Mr. Hale, the minister of the Beverly congregation, states in a deposition that a certain woman, "being in full communion in our church, came to me to request that Goodwife Bishop, her neighbor, wife of[i.196] Edward Bishop, Jr., should not be allowed to receive the Lord's Supper in our church until she had made amends for some offenses against her; namely, because the Bishop entertained people in her house at late hours of the night for drinking and playing shovel-board, causing discord in other families and putting young people at risk of being corrupted; she was aware of these things and had once gone into the house, and finding some people playing shovel-board, had taken their game pieces and thrown them into the fire, reproaching the Bishop for encouraging such disorder, but had received no satisfaction from her about it." According to Mr. Hale's statement, the night after this complaint was made, the woman was found to be mentally disturbed. "As she continued to be disturbed for some time, we sought the Lord through fasting and prayer." Eventually, the woman regained her senses, and as Mr. Hale understood it, expressed a suspicion "that she had been bewitched by Bishop's wife." He states that he did not support this idea at the time, "hoping better of Goody Bishop." He further mentions that he "asked Margaret King, who lived near the house," what she had observed concerning the disturbed woman. "She told me that the woman was very much into reading and studying the prophecies of Scripture." Eventually, the woman seemed to have fully recovered, went to Goody Bishop, made amends for what she had said and done against her, and they became[i.197] friends again. Mr. Hale continues, "I often prayed with and counseled her before her death." She earnestly wanted "Edward Bishop to be sent for so they could make friends." I asked her if she had wronged Edward Bishop. She replied, not that she knew of, unless it was in taking his shovel-board pieces while people were playing with them and throwing them into the fire; if she did something wrong, she was very sorry for it and hoped he would forgive her or be friends with her. This was the very day before she died." That night, her condition returned, and in a fit of madness, she took her own life.

It is evident, from his own account, that Mr. Hale did not then fall in with, or countenance at all, any unfavorable impressions against Bridget Bishop; and that the poor diseased woman, when entirely free from her malady, repented bitterly of what she had done and said of Goodman Bishop and his wife, and heartily desired their forgiveness. So far as the facts stated by Mr. Hale of his own knowledge go, they prove that Bridget Bishop was the victim of gross misrepresentation. Five years afterwards, as we shall see, Mr. Hale gave a very different version of the affair, and one which it is extremely difficult to reconcile with his own former deliberate convictions at the time when the circumstances occurred.

It's clear from his own account that Mr. Hale didn't agree with or support any negative views about Bridget Bishop. The poor sick woman, once she fully recovered from her illness, deeply regretted what she had said and done regarding Goodman Bishop and his wife, and sincerely wished for their forgiveness. Based on the facts Mr. Hale states from his own experience, they show that Bridget Bishop was badly misrepresented. Five years later, as we'll see, Mr. Hale told a very different story about the situation, one that's really hard to reconcile with his previous strong beliefs when the events took place.

As it is my object to bring before you every thing that may help to explain the particular occurrences embraced in the account I am to give of the witchcraft[i.198] prosecutions, two other persons must be mentioned before concluding this branch of my subject,—George Jacobs, Sr., and his son George Jacobs, Jr. They each had given offence to some persons, and suffered that sort of notoriety which led to the selection of victims, although both were persons of respectability. The father owned and had lived for about a half-century on a farm in North Fields, on the banks of Endicott River, a little to the eastward of the bridge at the iron-foundery. He was a person of good estate and an estimable man; but it was his misfortune to have an impulsive nature and quick passions. In June, 1677, he was prosecuted and fined for striking a man who had incensed him. George Jacobs, Jr., his only son, at a court held Nov. 7, 1674, was prosecuted, "found blamable, and ordered to pay costs of court." His offence and defence are embraced in his deposition on the occasion.

Since my goal is to present everything that might help clarify the specific events related to the witchcraft prosecutions, I need to mention two other individuals before wrapping up this part of my discussion—George Jacobs, Sr. and his son George Jacobs, Jr. Both had offended certain people and received the kind of notoriety that made them targets, even though they were both respected members of the community. The father owned and had lived for about fifty years on a farm in North Fields, near the Endicott River, just east of the bridge by the iron foundry. He was a man of good standing and was well-regarded, but he had the misfortune of having an impulsive nature and a quick temper. In June 1677, he was prosecuted and fined for hitting a man who had provoked him. George Jacobs, Jr., his only son, was prosecuted during a court session on November 7, 1674, where he was found guilty and ordered to pay court costs. His offense and defense are addressed in his deposition from that occasion.

"George Jacobs's Answer to Nathaniel Putnam's Complaint.—That I did follow some horses in our enclosure on the Royal Side, where they were trespassing upon us; that the end of my following them was to take them; but, rather than they would be taken, they took the water, and I did follow them no further; but straightway they turned ashore, and I did run to take them as they came out of the water, but could not: and I can truly take my oath that since that time I did never follow any horses or mares; and I hope my own oath will clear me."

"George Jacobs's Reply to Nathaniel Putnam's Complaint.—I followed some horses in our enclosure on the Royal Side, where they were trespassing; my intention was to catch them. However, instead of being caught, they jumped into the water, and I didn’t pursue them any further. They turned back to shore, and I ran to catch them as they came out of the water, but I couldn’t. I swear that since that time, I have not followed any horses or mares; and I hope my oath will clear me."

The result of his attempt to drive off the horses was, that several valuable animals were drowned.[i.199] Their owner, Nathaniel Putnam, brought an action; but he could not recover damages. The horses were evidently trespassing, and the Court did not seem to regard Jacobs's conduct as a heinous matter. It is not to be supposed, that Nathaniel Putnam harbored sentiments of revenge or resentment for eighteen years, or had any hand in prosecuting Jacobs in 1692. There is every indication that he did not sympathize in the violent passions which raged on that occasion, although he was much under the power of the delusion. But the affair of drowning the horses was probably for a long time a topic of gossip, and may have given to the author of the catastrophe a notoriety which nearly cost him his life.

The outcome of his attempt to drive the horses away was that several valuable animals drowned.[i.199] Their owner, Nathaniel Putnam, filed a lawsuit, but he couldn’t recover any damages. The horses were clearly trespassing, and the Court didn’t seem to see Jacobs's actions as particularly serious. It’s hard to believe that Nathaniel Putnam held onto feelings of revenge or resentment for eighteen years, or had any part in prosecuting Jacobs in 1692. There’s every reason to think he didn’t share in the intense emotions that were so prevalent at that time, even though he was largely under the influence of the hysteria. However, the incident of the drowned horses was likely a popular topic of discussion for a long time and may have given Jacobs a notoriety that nearly cost him his life.

The account that has been given of the elements of the population of the Salem Farms or Village, shows that, while there were the usual varieties entering into the composition of all communities, it is wholly inadmissible to suppose that the witchcraft delusion took place there because it was the scene of greater ignorance or stupidity or barbarism than prevailed elsewhere. This will be made more apparent still by some general views of the state of society and manners. The people of a remote age are in general only regarded as they are seen through prominent occurrences and public movements. These constitute the ordinary materials of history. Dynasties, reigns of kings, armies, legislative proceedings, large ecclesiastical synods, dogmatic creeds, and the like, are, as a general thing, about all we know of the past. Por[i.200]traits of individuals appear here and there; but, separated from the ordinary life of the times, they cannot be fairly or fully appreciated. The public life of the past is but the outline, or, more strictly speaking, the mere skeleton, of humanity. To fill up the outline, to clothe the skeleton with elastic nerves and warm flesh, and quicken it with a vital circulation, we must get at the domestic, social, familiar, and ordinary experience of individuals and private persons; we must obtain a view of the popular customs and the daily routine of life. In this way only can history fulfil its office in making the past present.

The account of the population in Salem Farms or Village shows that, while there were the usual varieties found in all communities, it’s completely unfair to think that the witchcraft craze happened there because it was more ignorant, stupid, or barbaric than other places. This will be even clearer when we look at the general state of society and social behavior. People from an earlier time are often judged based on major events and public movements. These are the usual materials of history. Dynasties, reigns of kings, armies, legislative actions, large church gatherings, established doctrines, and similar topics make up almost everything we know about the past. Portraits of individuals pop up here and there, but without the connection to everyday life of that time, they can’t be fully understood or appreciated. The public life of the past is just a rough outline, or more accurately, a mere skeleton of humanity. To fill in that outline, to give the skeleton flexible nerves and warm flesh, and to energize it with a vital circulation, we need to delve into the domestic, social, familial, and everyday experiences of individuals. We must explore the popular customs and daily routines of life. Only in this way can history truly serve its purpose of bringing the past into the present.

The people of the early colonial settlements had a private and interior life, as much as we have now, and the people of all ages and countries have had. It is common to regard them in no other light than as a severe, sombre, and pleasure-abhorring generation. It was not so with them altogether. They had the same nature that we have. It was not all gloom and severity. They had their recreations, amusements, gayeties, and frolics. Youth was as buoyant with hope and gladness, love as warm and tender, mirth as natural to innocence, wit as sprightly, then as now. There was as much poetry and romance: the merry laugh enlivened the newly opened fields, and rang through the bordering woods as loud, jocund, and unrestrained as in these older and more crowded settlements. It is true that their theology was austere, and their polity, in Church and State, stern; but, in their modes of life, there were some features which[i.201] gave peculiar opportunity to exercise and gratify a love of social excitement of a pleasurable kind. Let me mention some of the customs having a tendency in this direction, that prevailed in the early settlements of New England.

The people in the early colonial settlements had a private and inner life, just like we do today, and like people have had throughout history. It's common to see them only as a strict, somber generation that despised pleasure. That wasn't entirely true. They had the same nature as we do. It wasn't all gloom and seriousness. They enjoyed their pastimes, fun, parties, and celebrations. Youth was just as filled with hope and happiness, love was just as warm and tender, laughter was just as natural to innocence, and wit was just as lively as it is now. There was just as much poetry and romance; laughter filled the newly opened fields and echoed through the surrounding woods, just as brightly and freely as in these older, busier settlements. It is true that their theology was strict and their political systems—both in the Church and the State—were harsh; however, in their way of life, there were some aspects that[i.201] offered unique opportunities to enjoy and satisfy a love for social excitement and pleasure. Let’s look at some of the customs that encouraged this in the early settlements of New England.

Whenever a young man had made his clearing in the forest, got out the frame of his house, and selected a helpmeet to dwell with him in it, there was "a raising." On an appointed day, the neighbors far and near assembled; all together put their shoulders to the work; and, before the shadows of night enveloped the scene, the house was up, and covered from sill to ridgepole. The same was done if the house of a neighbor had been destroyed by fire. In this case, often the timbers, joists, and boards were contributed as well as the labor. These were made the occasions of general merriment, in which all ages and both sexes participated. Then there were the "huskings." After the barns were filled with hay and grain, and the corn was ripe, at "harvest home," gatherings would be seen on the bright autumnal afternoons of successive days, in the neighborhood of the different farmhouses. The sheaves would be taken from the shocks and brought up from the fields, the golden leaves and milky tassels stripped from the full ear, and the crib filled to the brim. These were scenes of unalloyed enjoyment and unrestrained gayety.

Whenever a young man cleared some land in the forest, built the frame of his house, and chose a partner to live with him, there was a "raising." On a designated day, neighbors from near and far came together; everyone pitched in to help, and before nightfall, the house was up and covered from the bottom to the top. The same thing happened if a neighbor's house had burned down. In that case, people often contributed wood, beams, and boards along with their labor. These events turned into occasions for general fun, where people of all ages and genders joined in. Then there were the "huskings." After the barns were filled with hay and grain and the corn was ready, there would be gatherings on bright autumn afternoons over several days at the various farmhouses. The sheaves were taken from the shocks and brought in from the fields, the golden leaves and milky tassels were stripped from the ripe ears, and the crib was filled to the top. These moments were full of pure enjoyment and unrestrained joy.

At that time were prevalent, in rural neighborhoods, other recreations promotive of social hilarity to the[i.202] highest degree. As a wintry evening drew on, the wide, deep fireplace—equalling in width nearly the whole of one side of the room, and so deep that benches were permanently attached to the jambs, on which two or more could comfortably sit—was duly prepared. A huge log, of a diameter equal to that of "the mast of some great admiral," six feet perhaps in length, was worked in by handspikes to its place as the "back-log;" a smaller one, as "back-stick," placed over it; the great andirons duly adjusted, and the wood piled on artistically—for there was an art in building a wood-fire. The kindlings were placed on top of the whole; never by an experienced hand below. More than the light of day, from dazzling chandeliers or the magic tongues of flaming gas-burners, blazes through the halls of modern luxury and splendor; but the lights and shadows from a glowing, old-fashioned, New-England country fireplace created a scene as enlivening, exhilarating, and genial as has ever been witnessed, and cannot be surpassed. Assembled neighbors in a single evening accomplished what would have been the work of a family for months. The corn and the nuts were all shelled; the young birch was stripped down in thin strands, and brooms enough made for a year's service in house and barn; and various other useful offices rendered. The sound of busy hands and nimble fingers was lost in commingling happy voices. Fun and jest, joy and love, ruled the hour. The whole affair was followed by "Blind-man's Buff" or some[i.203] other sport. After the "old folks" had considerately retired, who knows but that the sons and daughters of Puritans sometimes wound up with a dance? There were sleigh-rides, and the woods rang with the happy laugh and jingling bells. The vehicles used on these occasions were, prior to 1700, more properly called "sleds." Our modern "sleigh" had not then been introduced. As the spring came on, logs would be hollowed or scooped out and placed near the feet of sugar maples, a slanting incision made a foot or two above them in the trunks of the trees, a slip of shingle inserted, and the delicious sap would trickle down into the troughs. When the proper time came, tents or booths made of evergreen boughs would be erected in the woods, great kettles hung over blazing fires, and a whole neighborhood camp out for several days and nights, until the work was accomplished, and the flavory syrup or solid cakes of sugar brought out.

At that time, there were many fun activities in rural neighborhoods that really brought people together. As a winter evening approached, the wide, deep fireplace—almost taking up an entire side of the room, and so deep that benches were permanently attached to the sides, allowing two or more people to sit comfortably—was set up. A massive log, about the size of a great admiral's mast, and maybe six feet long, was carefully positioned as the "back-log," with a smaller log sitting over it as the "back-stick." The large andirons were adjusted, and the wood was artfully stacked—there’s definitely a skill to building a fire. The kindling went on top, never below, as experienced hands knew better. More than the bright lights from dazzling chandeliers or the flame of gas lights in modern luxury, the glow and shadows from an old-fashioned New England fireplace created a scene as lively, uplifting, and warm-hearted as ever experienced, unmatched in its charm. Neighbors, gathered for the evening, accomplished what would take a family months to do. They shelled corn and nuts, stripped young birch into thin strands to make brooms enough for a year’s use in the home and barn, and performed various other helpful tasks. The sound of busy hands and quick fingers mingled with cheerful voices. Laughter, fun, joy, and love filled the air. The whole event concluded with "Blind-man's Buff" or another game. Who knows if the Puritan sons and daughters sometimes wrapped up their night with dancing after the older folks kindly left? There were sleigh rides, and the woods echoed with laughter and jingling bells. The vehicles used back then were more accurately called "sleds" before 1700, as our modern "sleigh" hadn’t been introduced yet. As spring arrived, logs would be hollowed out and placed at the base of sugar maples, with a slanting cut made a foot or so above, inserting a piece of shingle, allowing the sweet sap to trickle down into troughs. When the time was right, tents or booths made of evergreen branches would pop up in the woods, big kettles hung over bright fires, and the whole neighborhood would camp out for days and nights until the work was done, bringing out the delicious syrup or solid cakes of sugar.

These were some of the recreations of the country people in the early settlements of New England; continuing, perhaps, in frontier towns to this day. They constituted forms of enjoyment which cannot exist in cities or older communities; and possessed a charm, in the memory of all who ever participated in them, greater, far greater, than society in any later stage can possess.

These were some of the pastimes of rural folks in the early New England settlements; and they may still be found in frontier towns today. They provided types of enjoyment that can't thrive in cities or older communities, and they held a charm, in the memories of everyone who took part in them, much greater than anything society can offer in later times.

The principal method of travelling in those days was on horseback. It afforded many special opportunities for social enjoyment. Women as well as men were trained to it. The people of the village were all[i.204] at home in the saddle. The daughters of Joseph Putnam, sisters of Israel, were celebrated as equestrians. Tradition relates adventurous feats of theirs in this line, equal to that which constitutes a part of the history of their famous brother. There were, perhaps, several games of skill or chance practised more or less, even in those days, in this neighborhood. The only one that seems to have been openly allowed, of which we have any evidence, was shovel-board. This game, now supposed to be out of use, is referred to by Shakespeare, and was quite common in England as well as in this country. A board about two and a half feet wide and twenty feet long was placed three feet above the floor, somewhat like a billiard-table, though not with so wide a surface, precisely level and perfectly smooth, covered with a sprinkling of fine sand. It was provided with weights or balls, called "pieces," flattened on one end. The game consisted in shoving them as far as possible, without going over the end. A trough surrounded the table to catch the pieces if they fell. Richard Grant White, from whom this account of the game has been derived, says that "it required great accuracy of eye, and steadiness of hand, much more than ten-pins." He states that, when a boy, he saw it played by "brawny" men, in Brooklyn, N.Y., and that the pieces then used were of brass. It is probable that the "pieces" used on Bridget Bishop's shovel-board were made of some heavy wood, as they were thrown into the fire for the purpose of destroying them. The fact that a game like this was suffered to[i.205] be openly played in Salem Village is quite remarkable, and shows that some license was left for such amusements.

The main way of getting around back then was on horseback. It provided many opportunities for social enjoyment. Both women and men were skilled at it. Everyone in the village was comfortable in the saddle. Joseph Putnam's daughters, who were sisters of Israel, were known for their riding skills. Stories are told of their adventurous feats, equal to those of their famous brother. There were likely several games of skill or chance played in the area during that time. The only one that seems to have been openly permitted, of which we have any evidence, was shovel-board. This game, now thought to be obsolete, is mentioned by Shakespeare and was quite popular in England as well as here. A board about two and a half feet wide and twenty feet long was set three feet off the ground, somewhat like a billiard table, though with a smaller surface, perfectly level and smooth, dusted with a fine layer of sand. It came with weights or balls called "pieces," flattened on one end. The game involved sliding the pieces as far as possible without letting them fall off the end. There was a trough around the table to catch any pieces that slipped off. Richard Grant White, from whom this description of the game is taken, states that "it required great accuracy of eye and steadiness of hand, much more than ten-pins." He recalls seeing it played by "brawny" men in Brooklyn, NY, when he was a boy, and that the pieces then were made of brass. It's likely that the "pieces" used on Bridget Bishop's shovel-board were made of some heavy wood since they were thrown into the fire to destroy them. The fact that a game like this was openly played in Salem Village is quite notable and shows that some leeway was allowed for such entertainment.

The records and files of the local courts show, that, notwithstanding the austere gravity and strictness of manners and morals usually ascribed to our New-England ancestors, occasional irregularities occurred in the early settlements, which would be considered high misdemeanors in our day. The following deposition was given "on oath before the Court," Feb. 26, 1651. Edward Norris was the son of the minister of the First Church; had been for more than ten years, and continued to be for twenty years after, schoolmaster of the town; and, by his character as well as office, commanded the highest respect. John Kitchen, in 1655, was chosen "searcher and sealer of leather." Giles Corey had not yet purchased his farm, but lived on his town-lot, extending from Essex Street, near its western extremity, to the North River. They were severally persons of good estate.

The records and files of the local courts show that, despite the serious and strict behavior and morals typically associated with our New England ancestors, there were occasional irregularities in the early settlements that would be seen as serious offenses today. The following deposition was given "on oath before the Court" on February 26, 1651. Edward Norris, the son of the minister of the First Church, had been the town's schoolmaster for over ten years and continued in that role for twenty more, earning respect due to his position and character. In 1655, John Kitchen was elected as the "searcher and sealer of leather." Giles Corey had not yet bought his farm but lived on his town lot, which stretched from Essex Street, near its western edge, to the North River. They were all individuals of good standing.

"The Testimony of Giles Corey.—Mr. Edward Norris and I were going towards the brickkiln: John Kitchen, going with us, fell a nipping and pinching of us. And, when we came back again, John Kitchen struck up Mr. Edward Norris his heels and mine, and fell upon me, and catched me by the throat, and held me so long till he had almost stopped my breath. And I said unto John Kitchen, 'This is not good jesting.' And John Kitchen replied, 'This is nothing: I do owe you more than this of old: this is not half of that which you shall have afterwards.' After this,[i.206] he went into his house, and he took stinking water and threw upon us, and took me and thrust me out of doors, and I went my ways. And John Kitchen followed me half-way up the lane, or thereabouts. Perceiving him to follow me, I went to go over the rails. He took me again, and threw me down off the rails, and fell a beating of me until I was all bloody. And, Thomas Bishop being present, I desired him to bear witness of what he saw. Upon my words, he let me rise. As soon as I was up, he fell a beating of me again.

The Testimony of Giles Corey.—Mr. Edward Norris and I were heading toward the brick kiln when John Kitchen, who was with us, started pinching and poking us. When we returned, John Kitchen kicked both Mr. Edward Norris and me, then attacked me, grabbing me by the throat and holding on so tight that I could barely breathe. I told John Kitchen, 'This isn't funny.' He replied, 'This is nothing; I owe you more than this from before. This isn't even half of what you’ll get later.' After that, [i.206] he went into his house, got some dirty water, and threw it on us. He then pushed me outside, and I went on my way. John Kitchen followed me halfway up the lane. Noticing him behind me, I tried to climb over the fence. He grabbed me again, pulled me down, and started beating me until I was covered in blood. With Thomas Bishop present, I asked him to witness what he saw. To my credit, he let me get up. As soon as I was back on my feet, he started hitting me again.

"Testified on oath before the Court, 26th Feb., 1651.

"Testified under oath before the Court, February 26, 1651."

"Henry Bartholomew, Clerk."

"Henry Bartholomew, Clerk."

This was indeed an extraordinary outburst of lawless violence, and gives a singular insight of the state of society. Such an occurrence in our day would create astonishment. The organized power of the community to suppress vicious and rude passions was probably never brought to bear with greater rigidness than in our Puritan villages; but it did not fully accomplish its end. Behind and beneath the solemn and formal exterior, there was, after all, perhaps as much irregularity of life as now. The nature of man had not been subdued. The people had their quarrels and fights, and their frolics and merriments, in defiance of the restraints of authority. Violations of local and general laws were not infrequent; and flowed, as ever since, from intemperance, in as large a measure. Kitchen, in this instance, acted as if under the influence of liquor. His behavior, in tripping up the heels and throwing dirty water upon the person of the school[i.207]master of the town, the dignity of whose social position is indicated by the title of "Mr.;" and in giving to Corey such a persistent and gratuitous pommelling,—bears the aspect of a drunken delirium. The latter seems not to have supposed, for some time, that he was in earnest, but to have looked upon his conduct as rough play, which was carried rather too far. Poor Corey was often getting before the town Court as accused or accuser. He was, to the end, the victim of ill-usage, either given or taken. Though not a bad-natured man, he was almost always in trouble. The tenor of his long life was as eccentric and unruly as the manner of his death was strange and horrible.

This was truly an extraordinary outburst of lawless violence and gives a unique insight into the state of society. An event like this today would cause shock. The organized power of the community to control vicious and crude passions was probably never more strictly enforced than in our Puritan villages, yet it still didn’t fully achieve its goal. Beneath the serious and formal surface, there might have been just as much chaos in life as there is now. Human nature had not been tamed. People had their fights and quarrels, along with their fun and merriment, defying the restraints of authority. Violations of local and general laws were not uncommon and, as has always been the case, often stemmed from excessive drinking. In this case, Kitchen acted as if he were drunk. His actions—tripping up the feet and throwing dirty water on the town’s schoolmaster, whose social status is marked by the title "Mr.," and repeatedly attacking Corey—look like a drunken frenzy. Corey didn’t seem to realize at first that Kitchen was serious; he likely thought it was rough play that just got out of hand. Poor Corey frequently found himself before the town court, either as the accused or the accuser. He remained, until the end, a victim of mistreatment, whether giving or receiving. Though he wasn’t a bad person, he was almost always in trouble. The nature of his long life was as quirky and unruly as the strange and horrible manner of his death.

There was what may be called an institution in the rural parishes of the early times, still existing to some extent perhaps in country places, which must not be omitted in an enumeration of controlling influences. The people lived on farms, at some distance from each other, and almost all at great distances from the meeting-house. Local and parental authority, church discipline, public opinion, enforced attendance upon the regular religious services. Fashion, habit, and choice concurred in bringing all to meeting on the Lord's Day. It was impossible for many to return home during the intermission between the services of the forenoon and afternoon. The effect was, that the whole community were thrown and kept together every week for several hours, during which they could not avoid social intercourse. It was a more effective institution than the town-meeting; for it occurred oftener, and[i.208] included women and children. In pleasant weather, they would perhaps gather together in knots at eligible places, or stroll off in companies to the shades of the neighboring woods. In bad weather, they would remain in the meeting-house, or congregate at Deacon Ingersoll's ordinary, or in the great rooms of his dwelling-house. As a whole, this practice must have produced important results upon the character of the people. In the absence of newspapers, or of much intercourse with remote places, the day was made the occasion for hearing and telling all the news. It provided for the circulation of ideas, good and bad. It widened the sphere of influence of the wiser and better sort, and gave opportunity for mischievous people to do much harm. It was a sort of central bazaar, open every week, where all the varieties of local gossip could be interchanged and circulated far and wide. Of the aggregate character of the effects thus produced, I do not propose to strike the balance. It was undoubtedly an effective instrumentality in moulding the population of the country, developing the elements of society, quickening and rendering more vigorous the action of the people in masses, and elucidating the phenomena of their history. It answers my purpose, at present, to suggest, that, if any popular delusion or fanaticism arose, the means of giving it a rapid diffusion, and of intensifying its power, were in this way provided.

There was what you could call an institution in the rural parishes of earlier times, still somewhat present perhaps in rural areas, that should not be overlooked in a discussion of key influences. The people lived on farms, spaced apart from one another, and almost all were quite far from the meeting-house. Local and parental authority, church discipline, and public opinion enforced attendance at regular religious services. Tradition, habit, and personal choice all contributed to everyone coming together on Sundays. Many found it impossible to return home during the break between the morning and afternoon services. As a result, the entire community would gather together every week for several hours, during which they couldn't help but socialize. This was a more effective institution than the town meeting; it happened more frequently and included women and children. In nice weather, they would gather in small groups at good spots or walk together to the shade of nearby woods. In bad weather, they would stay in the meeting-house or gather at Deacon Ingersoll's tavern or in the large rooms of his home. Overall, this practice must have had significant effects on the character of the people. With no newspapers or much interaction with distant places, the day became a time for sharing and hearing all the news. It facilitated the spread of ideas, both good and bad. It expanded the influence of the wiser and better members of society while also giving troublemakers a chance to cause harm. It was like a central market, open every week, where all kinds of local gossip could be exchanged and spread far and wide. I won’t attempt to weigh the overall effects produced, but it was undoubtedly a powerful means of shaping the population of the country, developing societal elements, energizing collective action, and clarifying the events of their history. For my purposes right now, I just want to note that if any popular delusion or fanaticism emerged, this was a way to quickly spread it and amplify its power.

In the early settlement of the country, the pursuit of game in the forests, rivers, and lakes, was necessary as a means of subsistence, and has always been im[i.209]portant in that view. A war against beasts and birds of prey was also required to be incessantly kept up. The methods adopted for these ends were various and ingenious, often requiring courage and skill, and in most instances conducted in companies. Deer and moose were sometimes caged by surrounding them, or trapped; but the gun was chiefly relied upon in their pursuit. There were various methods for catching the smaller animals. One of the sports of boyhood was to spring the rabbits or hares. A sapling, or young tree, was bent down and fastened to a stick slid into notches cut in trees, on each side of the path of the animal. The rabbit is wont to race through the woods at great speed, and along established tracks, which, particularly after snow has fallen, are clearly traceable. To the cross-stick, thus placed above the path, one end of a strong horse-hair was tied. The other end was in a slip-knot, with a noose just large enough, and hanging at the height, to receive the head of the rabbit. Not seeing the noose, and rushing along the path, the rabbit would jerk the cross-stick out of the notches. The tree would bound back to its original upright direction, and the rabbit remain swinging aloft, until, at the break of day, the boys would rejoice in the success of their stratagem. Pigeons in clouds frequented the country in their seasons, and acres upon acres of the forests bowed beneath their weight. They were taken by nets, dozens at a time, or brought down in great numbers by shot-guns. The marshalled hosts of wild geese made their noisy flights over the land in the[i.210] spring and fall, traversing a space spanning the continent north and south. They were brought down by the gun, on the wing, or surprised while resting in their long route or stopped by storms, around secluded ponds or swamps. Ducks and other aquatic birds were abundant on the rivers and marshes, and pursued in canoes along the bays and seashores. Salt-water fish were within reach in the neighboring ocean; while an unfailing supply of fresh-water fish was yielded by Wenham Lake, Wilkins's Pond, and the running streams.

In the early days of settling the land, hunting in the forests, rivers, and lakes was essential for survival and has always been significant in that aspect. A continuous battle against wild animals and birds of prey was also necessary. The methods used for hunting were varied and clever, often requiring bravery and skill, and usually done in groups. Deer and moose were sometimes caught by surrounding them or trapping them, but mainly they relied on guns for hunting. There were different techniques for catching smaller animals. One childhood game was to capture rabbits or hares. A young tree or sapling was bent down and tied to a stick that was slid into notches cut in trees on either side of the animal's path. Rabbits are known to dash through the woods quickly and follow established trails, which are especially easy to see after snow falls. To the cross-stick positioned above the path, one end of a strong horse-hair was tied. The other end formed a slipknot, creating a noose just big enough to catch the rabbit's head at the right height. Not noticing the noose and running down the path, the rabbit would pull the cross-stick out of the notches. The tree would spring back to its upright position, leaving the rabbit dangling until morning, when the boys would celebrate their cleverness. During the right seasons, clouds of pigeons filled the skies, and the forests bowed under their weight. They were caught in nets by the dozens or shot down in large numbers. Flocks of wild geese flew noisily over the land in the[i.210] spring and fall, traveling across the continent from north to south. They were shot down while flying, or surprised as they rested during their long journeys or took shelter from storms around quiet ponds or swamps. Ducks and other waterfowl were plentiful in the rivers and marshes and were pursued in canoes along the bays and coastlines. Saltwater fish were readily available in the nearby ocean, and a reliable supply of freshwater fish came from Wenham Lake, Wilkins's Pond, and the flowing streams.

The bear was a formidable prowler around the settlements, killing young cattle, making havoc in the sheepfold, and depredating upon the barn and farm yard. He was a dangerous antagonist, of immense strength in his arms and claws. Sometimes he was reached effectually by the gun, but the trap was mainly relied upon to secure him. His skin made him a valuable prize, and he supplied other beneficial uses. The earliest and rudest method of trapping a bear was as follows: A place was selected in the woods, where two large fallen and mouldering trees were side by side within two or three feet of each other. The space between them would be roofed over by throwing branches and boughs across them, and closed up at one end. The other end would be left open. A gun was placed inside, heavily loaded, the muzzle towards the open end; to the trigger a cord was fastened running along by the barrel of the gun, passing over a cross-bar, and hanging down directly before the muzzle, baited with a piece of fresh meat. The bear,[i.211] ranging in the woods at night, would be attracted by the smell of meat, and come snuffing around. At the open end, he would see the bait, rush in, seize it between his jaws, pull the cord, discharge the gun, and his head and breast be torn to pieces. The men engaged in the enterprise would remain awake in some neighboring house, waiting and listening, with the extremest interest, for the report of the gun to announce their success. At the break of day, they would gather to the spot, and participate in the profit of the capture. After a while, iron or steel traps were introduced. They would be skilfully baited and set, and fastened to a tree by a chain. The whole was covered over with light soil and leaves. The bear would make for the bait. The weight of his paw would spring the trap. The iron-teeth would hold him fast till the morning. In his suffering and exasperation, it would require considerable effort to despatch him. In catching bears, as well as foxes, much skill and art were needed. They were each very wary and cautious; and, where iron was used in the traps, some scent was necessary to disguise the smell of the metal. All appearance of having been disturbed had to be removed from the ground. Trapping became quite a science, and was a pursuit of much importance.

The bear was a serious threat around the settlements, killing young cattle, wreaking havoc in the sheepfold, and raiding barns and farms. He was a dangerous opponent, with incredible strength in his arms and claws. Sometimes he could be effectively hunted with a gun, but traps were mainly used to catch him. His skin made him a valuable catch, and he had other useful benefits as well. The earliest and most basic method of trapping a bear went like this: A spot in the woods was chosen where two large fallen and decaying trees lay side by side, a couple of feet apart. The space between them would be covered with branches and boughs, closing off one end while leaving the other end open. A gun was placed inside, loaded heavily, with the muzzle facing the open end; a cord was attached to the trigger, running along the barrel, passing over a cross-bar, and hanging directly in front of the muzzle, baited with a piece of fresh meat. The bear, roaming the woods at night, would be attracted by the smell of meat and come sniffing around. At the open end, he would see the bait, rush in, grab it with his jaws, pull the cord, fire the gun, and end up with his head and chest blown apart. The men involved would stay awake in a nearby house, eagerly waiting and listening for the gunshot to signal their success. At dawn, they would gather at the spot to share in the bounty of the catch. Eventually, iron or steel traps were introduced. They would be skillfully baited and set, anchored to a tree by a chain. Everything would be covered with light soil and leaves. The bear would go for the bait. The weight of his paw would trigger the trap. The iron teeth would hold him tight until morning. In his pain and frustration, it would take significant effort to finish him off. Catching bears, as well as foxes, required a lot of skill and craft. They were both very alert and cautious; and when iron was used in the traps, some scent was needed to mask the smell of metal. Any signs of disturbance had to be cleared from the ground. Trapping became quite a science and an important pursuit.

Wolves were perhaps the most destructive of the beasts of prey. Although not so large or strong as bears, they were far more fierce and rapacious. Bears could be tamed, but wolves not. Bears were not dangerous, unless provoked, or suffering from hunger, or[i.212] alarmed for the safety of their young. It was thought that kind treatment would awaken strong attachment in them, but wolves were always snarling and ferocious. They roamed mostly in packs, and would kill sheep, lambs, and poultry long after hunger was appeased. The farmers regarded them as their great enemy. A long and deep trench would be dug, lined with slippery logs, from which the bark had been taken, standing upright, and touching each other. The trench was covered by a slight framework, upon which leaves and dirt were scattered, to make the surface appear like the surrounding territory. Some savory bait would be placed over it. The wolves, rushing on, would break through. Not being able to ascend the sides, they would be found alive, the next morning, at the bottom. These were called "wolf-pits." It was no easy matter to dispose of or despatch the furious animals, and the wolf-pits were often the scenes of much excitement. There was another class of animals,—divided into different species, mostly according to their size,—smaller but fiercer than wolves, of extraordinary strength and activity, called wild-cats, catamounts, or loup-cerviers, pronounced by the farmers lucifees. These were only taken by the gun. It was considered a useful public service, and no inconsiderable feat, to kill them.

Wolves were probably the most destructive of the predators. Although they weren't as big or strong as bears, they were much more aggressive and greedy. Bears could be domesticated, but wolves couldn't. Bears weren't dangerous unless they were provoked, starving, or worried about their young. People believed that treating bears well would create a strong bond with them, but wolves were always growling and fierce. They mostly traveled in packs and would kill sheep, lambs, and poultry even when they weren't hungry anymore. Farmers saw them as their biggest enemy. They would dig a long, deep trench lined with slippery logs, standing upright and touching each other. The trench would be covered with a light framework on which leaves and dirt were placed to blend in with the surrounding land. Some tasty bait would be put on top. The wolves, charging in, would break through. Unable to climb out, they would be found alive at the bottom the next morning. These were known as "wolf-pits." It wasn’t easy to deal with or eliminate the furious animals, and the wolf-pits often became places of much excitement. There was another group of animals—divided into different species, mostly by size—that were smaller but even fiercer than wolves. These incredibly strong and agile creatures were called wildcats, catamounts, or loup-cerviers, which farmers pronounced as lucifees. The only way to catch them was by using a gun. Killing them was seen as a valuable public service and a significant achievement.

Some of the laborious employments, at that time, were especially promotive of social influence; for instance, the making and mending highways. This was secured by a tax, annually levied in town-meeting. The work was placed under the care and direction of[i.213] surveyors, annually chosen. A small part of this tax, however, was paid in money. Most of it was "worked out." At convenient seasons, when there was a respite from the ordinary farm work, the men of a neighborhood would come together, in greater or less numbers, at a designated time and place, with their oxen and implements. Working in unison, they would work merrily and with energy; and, as the tough roots and deeply bedded rocks gave way to the pickaxe, crowbar, and chain, and rough places became smooth, the wilderness would echo back their voices of gratulation, and a spirit of animating rivalry stimulate their toils. Many other operations were carried on, such as getting up hay from the salt-marshes and building stone-walls, by neighbors working in companies.

Some of the labor-intensive jobs at that time were particularly beneficial for social influence, like building and repairing roads. This was funded by a tax that was collected annually during town meetings. The work was supervised by [i.213] surveyors, who were elected each year. A small portion of this tax was paid in cash, but most of it was "worked out." At convenient times, when the regular farm work slowed down, local men would gather, in varying numbers, at a set time and location, bringing their oxen and tools. Working together, they would labor cheerfully and energetically; as the stubborn roots and deeply embedded rocks were removed with pickaxes, crowbars, and chains, and as rough areas were smoothed out, the wilderness would echo with their voices of celebration, fueled by a spirited competition that encouraged their efforts. Many other tasks were also carried out, such as collecting hay from the salt marshes and building stone walls, with neighbors collaborating in groups.

Particular circumstances in the history of the population of Salem Village contributed to keep up a condition of general intelligence, which served, to some degree, as a substitute for an organized system of education. Indeed, any thing like regular schools was rendered impossible by the then-existing circumstances. Clearings had made a very inconsiderable encroachment on the wilderness. There were here and there farmhouses, with deep forests between. It was long before easily traversable roads could be made. A schoolhouse placed permanently on any particular spot would be within the reach of but very few. Farmers most competent to the work, who had enjoyed the advantages of some degree of education, and could manage to set apart any time for the pur[i.214]pose, were, in some instances, prevailed upon to receive such children as were within reaching distance as pupils in their own houses, to be instructed by them at stated times and for a limited period. Daniel Andrew rendered this service occasionally. At one period, we find them practising the plan of a movable school and schoolmaster. He would be stationed in the houses of particular persons, with whom the arrangement could be made, a month at a time, in the different quarters of the village, from Will's Hill to Bass River. Of course, there was a great lack of elementary education. For a considerable time, it was reduced to a very low point; and there were heads of families,—men who had good farms, and possessed the confidence and respect of their neighbors,—who appear not to have been able to write.

Particular circumstances in Salem Village's history helped maintain a level of general knowledge, which somewhat acted as a substitute for a formal education system. In fact, establishing regular schools was impossible due to the conditions at the time. Clearings had made only a small dent in the wilderness. There were a few farmhouses scattered about, separated by dense forests. It took a long time before any passable roads could be built. A schoolhouse set up permanently in any specific location would only be accessible to a handful of people. The most capable farmers, who had some education and could find time for it, were sometimes persuaded to teach the nearby children in their own homes at scheduled times for a limited duration. Daniel Andrew occasionally took on this responsibility. At one point, they practiced a system of a traveling school and schoolmaster. He would stay in the homes of certain individuals, where arrangements could be made, for a month at a time, moving around to different parts of the village, from Will's Hill to Bass River. As a result, there was a significant lack of basic education. For a long time, it was at a very low level; some heads of households—men who owned good farms and held the confidence and respect of their neighbors—seemed unable to write.

It is difficult, however, to come to a definite estimate on this subject, as the singular fact is discovered, that some persons, who could write, occasionally preferred to "make their mark." Ann Putnam, in executing her will, made her mark; but her confession, with her own proper written signature, is spread out in the Church-book. Francis Nurse very frequently used his peculiar mark, representing, perhaps, some implement of his original mechanical trade; but, on other occasions, he wrote out his name in a good, round hand. The same was the case with Bray Wilkins. We can hardly reach any decisive conclusions as to the intelligence or education of the people of that day from their handwriting, or construction of sentences, much[i.215] less from their spelling. Their forms of speech were very different from ours in many respects. What, at first view, we might be apt to call errors of ignorance, were perhaps conformity to good usage at the time. Their use of verbs is different from ours, particularly in the subjunctive mood, and in conjugation generally. They did not follow our rule in reference to number. When the nominative was a plural noun, or several nouns, they often employ the connected verb in the singular number, and vice versâ. They were inclined to make construction conform to the sense, rather than to the letter. It is not certain that their usage, in this particular, is wholly indefensible. Cicero, in his fifth oration against Verres, couples rem with futurum. This was looked upon by some editors as an error, and they altered the text accordingly; but Aulus Gelius, in his "Attic Nights," maintains that it is the true reading, and, in view of the sense of the passage, a legitimate and elegant use of language. He cites instances, in Latin and Greek authors of the highest standard, of a similar usage.

It's tough to come to a solid conclusion on this topic, as it's curious that some people who could write sometimes chose to "make their mark." Ann Putnam made her mark when she executed her will, but her confession, with her actual signature, is recorded in the Church book. Francis Nurse often used his unique mark, which may represent some tool from his original mechanical trade, but at other times he wrote his name in a nice, clear hand. The same goes for Bray Wilkins. We can hardly draw any firm conclusions about the intelligence or education of people back then from their handwriting or sentence structures, let alone their spelling. Their way of speaking was very different from ours in many ways. What we might initially think are mistakes due to ignorance might actually reflect the proper usage of that time. Their use of verbs differs from ours, especially in the subjunctive mood and conjugation overall. They didn’t adhere to our rules regarding number, often using a singular verb when the subject was a plural noun or several nouns, and vice versa. They tended to shape their construction based on the meaning rather than the strict wording. It’s not clear that their way of doing this is entirely unjustifiable. Cicero, in his fifth speech against Verres, pairs rem with futurum. Some editors viewed this as a mistake and changed the text accordingly, but Aulus Gelius, in his "Attic Nights," argues that it’s the correct reading and a legitimate and elegant use of language, considering the context of the passage. He provides examples from both Latin and Greek authors of the highest standards that demonstrate similar usage.

Nothing, or scarcely any thing, can be inferred from spelling. It was wholly unsettled among the best-educated men, and in the practice of the same person. In Winthrop's "Journal," he spells the name of his distinguished friend—the governor of both Massachusetts and Connecticut—sometimes Haynes, and sometimes Haines. The r is generally dropped from his own signature, or, if not intentionally dropped, is quite lost in one or the other of the contiguous let[i.216]ters. It is a curious circumstance, that the name "Winthrop" is spelled differently by our governor, his wife, and his son, the governor of Connecticut; each varying from either of the other two. George Burroughs, a graduate of Harvard College, wrote his own name sometimes with, and sometimes without, the s. In our General-court records, the name of the first Captain Davenport is spelled in at least four different ways. The Putnams sometimes wrote their name Putman. The name of the Nurses was often written Nourse, and sometimes Nurs.

Nothing, or almost nothing, can be concluded from spelling. It was completely inconsistent even among the most educated people, and even in the practice of the same individual. In Winthrop's "Journal," he spells the name of his notable friend—the governor of both Massachusetts and Connecticut—sometimes as Haynes, and sometimes as Haines. The r is usually omitted from his own signature, or, if not intentionally left out, it gets lost in one or the other of the nearby letters. It's interesting that the name "Winthrop" is spelled differently by our governor, his wife, and his son, who is the governor of Connecticut; each variation differs from the others. George Burroughs, a Harvard College graduate, sometimes wrote his name with an s and sometimes without it. In our General-court records, the name of the first Captain Davenport is spelled in at least four different ways. The Putnams sometimes wrote their name as Putman. The Nurses' name was often written as Nourse, and sometimes as Nurs.

Unable to come to any reliable conclusions in reference to the general intelligence of the people of Salem Village from their orthography, etymology, syntax, or chirography, compared with their contemporaries, I can only say, that, in examining the records and papers which have come down to us, the wonder to me is that they expressed themselves so well. I do not hesitate to say, that, in the various controversies in which they were involved, prior to and immediately after the witchcraft delusion, there is a pervading appearance of uncommon appreciation of the questions at issue, and substantial evidence that there was a solid substratum of good sense among them.

Unable to draw any solid conclusions about the general intelligence of the people of Salem Village from their spelling, word origins, grammar, or handwriting compared to their peers, I can only say that, upon examining the records and documents we've inherited, I’m amazed at how well they expressed themselves. I firmly believe that in the various disputes they were engaged in before and right after the witchcraft hysteria, there is a clear indication of a strong understanding of the issues at hand and significant evidence that they had a solid foundation of common sense among them.

Their manners appear to have been remarkably courteous and respectful, showing the effect still remaining upon their style of intercourse and personal bearing, of the society and example of the great number of eminent, enlightened, and accomplished men and families that had resided or mingled with them during all[i.217] the early period of their history. In their deportment to each other, there was that sort of decorum which indicates good breeding. They paid honor to gray hairs, and assigned to age the first rank in seating the congregation,—a matter to which, before the introduction of pews as a particular property, they gave the greatest consideration. The "seating" was to continue for a year; and a committee of persons who would command the greatest confidence was regularly appointed to report on the delicate and difficult subject. Their report, signed by them severally, was entered in full in the parish record-book. The invariable rule was, first, age; then, office; last, rates. The chief seats were given to old men and women of respectable characters, without regard to their circumstances in life or position in society. Then came the families of the minister and deacons, the parish committee and clerk, the constable of the village, magistrates, and military officers. These were preferred, because all offices were then honorable, and held, if they were called to them, by the principal people. Last came rates,—that is, property. The richest man in the parish, if not holding office, or old enough to be counted among the aged, would take his place with the residue of the congregation. The manner in which parents were spoken of on all occasions is quite observable, not only in written documents, but ordinary conversation,—always with tender respectfulness. In almost all cases, the expressions used are "my honored father" or "my honored mother," and this by per[i.218]sons in the humblest and most inferior positions in life. The terms "Goodman" and "Goodwife" were applied to the heads of families. The latter word was abbreviated to "Goody," but not at all, as our dictionaries have it, as a "low term of civility." It was applied to the most honored matrons, such as the wife of Deacon Ingersoll. It was a term of respect; conveying, perhaps, an affectionate sentiment, but not in the slightest degree disrespectful, derogatory, or belittling. Surely no better terms were ever used to characterize a worthy person. "Goodman" comprehends all that can be ascribed to a citizen of mature years in the way of commendation; and the whole catalogue of pretentious titles ever given by flatterers or courtiers to a married lady cannot, all combined, convey a higher encomium than the term "Goodwife." How much more expressive, courteous to the persons to whom they are applied, and consistent with the self-respect of the person using them, than "Mr." and "Mrs."! A more than questionable taste and a foolish pride have led us to adopt these terms because they were originally applicable to the gentry or to magistrates, and to abandon the good old words which had a meaning truly polite to others, and not degrading to ourselves!

Their manners seemed to be exceptionally courteous and respectful, reflecting the influence of the many distinguished, educated, and accomplished individuals and families that had lived or interacted with them during all[i.217] the early part of their history. In how they treated each other, there was a decorum that signaled good breeding. They respected the elderly, giving priority to age when arranging seating for the congregation—a matter they considered very important before pews became property. The seating arrangement would last for a year, and a trusted committee was regularly formed to address this delicate and challenging issue. Their report, signed by each member, was recorded in full in the parish record book. The consistent rule was to seat first the elderly, then those in office, and finally, based on property. The best seats were reserved for elderly men and women of good character, regardless of their life circumstances or social status. Next were the families of the minister and deacons, the parish committee and clerk, the village constable, magistrates, and military officers. These individuals were prioritized because all offices were then viewed as honorable and were held by the prominent members of the community. Last came property—meaning wealth. The richest person in the parish, if they were not in office or too young to be considered elderly, would sit with the rest of the congregation. The way parents were referred to in all situations is notable, both in written records and casual conversation—always with deep respect. Expressions like "my honored father" or "my honored mother" were commonly used, even by those in the humblest positions. The terms "Goodman" and "Goodwife" were used for heads of families. "Goodwife" was often shortened to "Goody," but not in the way dictionaries suggest as a "low term of civility." It was used for venerable women, such as Deacon Ingersoll's wife. This term was respectful; it conveyed an affectionate sentiment without being disrespectful or belittling in any way. No better terms have ever been used to describe a worthy person. "Goodman" embodies all commendable traits of a mature citizen, and all the pretentious titles ever given by flatterers or courtiers to a married woman cannot convey higher praise than "Goodwife." These terms are far more expressive and courteous to those they describe, and they align with the self-respect of the person using them, compared to "Mr." and "Mrs." It's questionable taste and foolish pride that have caused us to adopt terms once meant for the gentry or magistrates, while abandoning the polite terms that truly honored others without degrading ourselves!

A patriarchal authority and dignity was recognized in families. The oldest member was often called, by way of distinction, "Landlord," merely on account of his seniority, without reference particularly to the extent of his domain or the value of his acres. After[i.219] the death of Thomas Putnam, in 1686, his brother Nathaniel had the title; after him, the surviving brother, Captain John; after him, it fell to the next generation, and Benjamin, a son of Nathaniel, became "Landlord Putnam." It was so with other families.

A patriarchal authority and dignity were recognized in families. The oldest member was often referred to, as a mark of respect, as "Landlord," simply because of his age, without regard to the size of his estate or the worth of his land. After[i.219] the death of Thomas Putnam in 1686, his brother Nathaniel held the title; then it passed to the surviving brother, Captain John; after him, it went to the next generation, and Benjamin, a son of Nathaniel, became "Landlord Putnam." This was the case with other families as well.

The liberal and judicious policy, before described, of giving estates to children on their marriage, with the maintenance of parental authority in the household, produced the desired effect upon the character of the people. It was almost a matter of course, that, on reaching mature years, young men and women would own the covenant, and become members of the church. The general tone of society was undoubtedly favorable to the moral and religious welfare of the younger portion of the community. Some exceptions occurred, but few in number. One case, however, in which there was a flagrant violation of filial duty, may not be omitted in this connection; for it belongs to the public history of the country.

The thoughtful and fair policy mentioned earlier of giving property to children when they marry, while still maintaining parental authority in the home, had the intended impact on the people's character. It was almost expected that, as they reached adulthood, young men and women would embrace the covenant and join the church. The overall social atmosphere was definitely supportive of the moral and religious well-being of the younger generation. There were some exceptions, but they were few. However, one notable case of a serious breach of filial duty should be included here, as it is part of the nation's public history.

John Porter, Jr., the eldest son of the founder of that most respectable family, about thirty years of age, appears to have been a very wicked and incorrigible person. His abusive treatment of his parents reached a point where it became necessary, in the last resort, to appeal to the protection of the law. After various proceedings, he was finally sentenced to stand on the ladder of the gallows with a rope around his neck for an hour; to be severely whipped; committed to the House of Correction; kept closely at work on[i.220] prison diet, not to be released until so ordered by the Court of Assistants or the General Court; and to pay "a fine to the country of two hundred pounds." It is stated, that, if the mother of the culprit "had not been overmoved by her tender affections to forbear appearing against him, the Court must necessarily have proceeded with him as a capital offender, according to our law being grounded upon and expressed in the Word of God, in Deut. xxi. 18 to 21. See Capital Laws, p. 9, § 14." Some time afterward, the General Court, upon his petition, granted him a release from imprisonment, on condition of his immediate departure from this jurisdiction; first giving a bond of two hundred pounds not to return without leave of the General Court or Court of Assistants.

John Porter, Jr., the oldest son of the founder of that respectable family, about thirty years old, seems to have been a very wicked and incorrigible person. His abusive behavior towards his parents escalated to the point where it became necessary to seek legal protection. After various legal proceedings, he was ultimately sentenced to stand on the gallows with a rope around his neck for an hour, to be severely whipped, committed to the House of Correction, kept closely at hard labor on[i.220] a prison diet, not to be released until ordered by the Court of Assistants or the General Court, and to pay a fine of two hundred pounds to the government. It was noted that if the mother had not been overly moved by her feelings to refrain from prosecuting him, the Court would have had to proceed with him as a capital offender, according to the law based on the Word of God, in Deut. xxi. 18 to 21. See Capital Laws, p. 9, § 14. Some time later, the General Court, upon his request, granted him a release from prison, on the condition that he leave this jurisdiction immediately; first giving a bond of two hundred pounds not to return without permission from the General Court or Court of Assistants.

In 1664, four commissioners, Colonel Richard Nichols, Sir Robert Carr, George Cartwright, and Samuel Maverick, Esqs., were sent over by Charles II. "to hear and determine complaints and appeals in all causes, as well military as criminal and civil." There had always been a powerful influence at work in the English Court adverse to New England. It had been thus far successfully baffled by the admirable diplomacy of the colonial government and agents. All conflicts of authority had been prevented from coming to a head by a skilful policy of "protracting and avoiding." But the restoration of the Stuarts boded no good to the liberties of the colonies; and the arrival of these commissioners with their sweeping authority was regarded as designed to deal the long-deferred[i.221] fatal blow at chartered rights. They began with a high hand. The General Court did not quail before them, but stood ready to take advantage of the first false step of the commissioners; and they did not have long to wait.

In 1664, four commissioners—Colonel Richard Nichols, Sir Robert Carr, George Cartwright, and Samuel Maverick—were sent by Charles II to "hear and determine complaints and appeals in all cases, both military and civilian." There had always been a powerful influence in the English Court that was against New England. Up until then, this influence had been successfully thwarted by the impressive diplomacy of the colonial government and its agents. They had managed to keep all conflicts of authority from escalating through a clever strategy of "protracting and avoiding." However, the return of the Stuarts signaled trouble for the freedoms of the colonies, and the arrival of these commissioners with their sweeping powers was seen as an attempt to deal a long-awaited[i.221] fatal blow to chartered rights. They started off with an aggressive approach. The General Court didn't back down; instead, it was poised to capitalize on the first mistake the commissioners made, and they didn’t have to wait long.

Porter had taken refuge in Rhode Island. When the commissioners visited that colony, he appealed to them for redress against the Massachusetts General Court. They were inconsiderate enough to espouse his cause, and issued a proclamation giving him protection to return to Boston to have his case tried before them. The General Court at once took issue with them, and changed their attitude from the defensive to the offensive; denounced their proceedings; spread upon the official records a full account, in the plainest language, of Porter's outrages upon his parents, exhibiting it in details that could not but shock every sentiment of humanity and decency; holding up the commissioners as the abettors and protectors of criminality of the deepest dye; and planting themselves fair and square against them on the merits of Porter's case. The commissioners tried to explain and extricate themselves; but they could not escape from the toils in which, through rashness, they had become entangled. The General Court made a public declaration charging the commissioners with "obstructing the sentence of justice passed against that notorious offender," and with sheltering and countenancing "his rebellion against his natural parents;" with violating a court of justice, discharging a whole[i.222] country "from their oaths whereby they had sworn obedience to His Majesty's authority according to the Constitution of his Royal Charter;" and with attempting to overthrow the rights of the colony under the charter by bringing in a military force to overawe and suppress the civil authorities. They denounced them as guilty of a perversion of their trust, and as having committed a breach upon the dignity of the crown, by pursuing a course "derogatory to His Majesty's authority here established," and "repugnant to His Majesty's princely and gracious intention in betrusting them with such a commission." The Court held the vantage-ground, and the commissioners were unable to dislodge them. The end of the matter was, that the power of the commissioners was completely broken down. They ingloriously gave up the contest, and went home to England.

Porter had found refuge in Rhode Island. When the commissioners visited the colony, he asked them for help against the Massachusetts General Court. They were inconsiderate enough to support him and issued a proclamation granting him protection to return to Boston for his case to be heard. The General Court immediately took a stand against them, shifting from defense to offense; they condemned the commissioners' actions, and recorded a detailed account of Porter's abuses against his parents in clear language that shocked any sense of humanity and decency. They portrayed the commissioners as supporters of serious criminal behavior and firmly opposed them on the merits of Porter's case. The commissioners tried to clarify their position and get out of the mess they had created through their rash actions, but they couldn't escape the traps they had fallen into. The General Court publicly accused the commissioners of "obstructing the sentence of justice passed against that notorious offender" and of providing protection for "his rebellion against his natural parents;" they claimed the commissioners violated a court of justice, discharging a whole[i.222] country from their oaths to obey His Majesty's authority as per the Royal Charter; and attempting to undermine the rights of the colony by bringing in military force to intimidate and suppress civil authorities. They condemned the commissioners for abusing their trust and breaching the dignity of the crown by acting in a manner "derogatory to His Majesty's authority here established," and "repugnant to His Majesty's princely and gracious intention in entrusting them with such a commission." The Court had the upper hand, and the commissioners were unable to dislodge them. In the end, the commissioners' power was completely dismantled. They shamefully abandoned the fight and returned home to England.

The instance of John Porter, Jr., to which such extraordinary publicity and prominence were given by the circumstances now related, does not bear against what I have said of the general prevalence, in the rural community of Salem Village, of parental authority and filial duty, as he was early withdrawn from it to pursuits that led him into totally different spheres of life. He had been engaged in trade, and exposed to vicious influences in foreign ports. In voyages to "Barbadoes, and so for England, he had prodigally wasted and riotously expended about four hundred pounds." Besides this, he had run himself, by his vicious courses, into debts which his father had to pay[i.223] in order to release him from prison abroad. He came back the desperate character described by the General Court. His punishment was severe, but absolutely necessary, in the judgment of the whole community, for the safety of his parents and the preservation of domestic and public order.

The case of John Porter, Jr., which received such extraordinary publicity and attention due to the circumstances now described, doesn’t contradict what I’ve said about the widespread presence of parental authority and children’s responsibilities in the rural community of Salem Village, as he was removed from it early on to pursue paths that took him to completely different areas of life. He had been involved in trade and exposed to harmful influences in foreign ports. During his trips to "Barbadoes, and then to England, he had carelessly wasted and extravagantly spent around four hundred pounds." In addition to this, he had gotten himself into debts through his reckless behavior, which his father had to cover to get him released from prison abroad. He returned as the troubled individual described by the General Court. His punishment was harsh but deemed absolutely necessary by the entire community for the safety of his parents and the maintenance of both domestic and public order.[i.223]

Although living in humble dwellings on plain fare, working with their hands for daily bread, clad in rude garments, and practising a frugal economy, there was a certain style of things about the people I am describing unlike what is ordinarily associated with our ideas of them. The men wore swords or rapiers as a part of their daily apparel. Their wives had domestic servants. Every farmer had his hired laborers, and many of them had slaves. The relation of servitude, however, differed from that on Southern plantations in many respects. The slaves, without any formal manumission, easily obtained their freedom, and often became landholders. The courteous decorum acquired from the example of the eminent men among the first planters long continued to mark the manners of this people; and its vestiges remain to the present day. It strikingly appeared in the latter half of the last and the earlier period of this century in the persons of Judge Samuel Houlton, Colonel Israel Hutchinson, General Moses Porter, and the late Judge Samuel Putnam.

Although living in simple homes on basic food, working with their hands for daily bread, dressed in rough clothes, and practicing a frugal lifestyle, there was a certain sophistication about the people I'm describing that is different from what we usually think of them. The men wore swords or rapiers as part of their everyday outfit. Their wives had domestic servants. Every farmer had hired laborers, and many of them owned slaves. However, the nature of servitude was different from that on Southern plantations in many ways. The slaves, without any formal process for freedom, could easily gain their freedom and often became landowners. The polite manners learned from the distinguished examples of the early planters continued to influence the behavior of this group, and traces of it remain today. This was notably evident in the latter half of the last century and the early part of this century in the figures of Judge Samuel Houlton, Colonel Israel Hutchinson, General Moses Porter, and the late Judge Samuel Putnam.

The wise forethought of the company in London, at the outset of its operations, in providing for all that was needful to the establishment and welfare of the[i.224] colony, has already been described. It was most strikingly illustrated in the careful selection of the first emigrants. Men were sought out who were experienced and skilful in the various mechanic arts. In the early population of Salem Farms, every species of handicraft was represented. When the number was less than a hundred householders, there were weavers, spinners, potters, joiners, housewrights, wheelwrights, brickmakers and masons, blacksmiths, coopers, painters, tailors, cordwainers, glovers, tanners, millers, maltsters, skinners, sawyers, tray-makers, and dish-turners. Every absolute want was provided for. These trades and callings were carried on in connection with agricultural employments, and their continuance kept carefully in view by the heads of the principal families. John Putnam not only gave large farms to each of his sons, but he trained them severally to some mechanical art. One was a weaver, another a bricklayer, &c. The farmer was also a mechanic, and every description of useful labor held in equal honor.

The careful planning of the company in London, at the beginning of its operations, in addressing everything necessary for the establishment and well-being of the[i.224] colony, has already been discussed. It was most clearly shown in the thoughtful selection of the first immigrants. They sought men who were experienced and skilled in various trades. In the early population of Salem Farms, every type of craft was represented. When there were fewer than a hundred households, there were weavers, spinners, potters, carpenters, builders, wheelwrights, brickmakers, masons, blacksmiths, coopers, painters, tailors, shoemakers, glovers, tanners, millers, maltsters, skinners, sawyers, tray-makers, and dish-turners. Every essential need was met. These trades and jobs were practiced alongside agricultural work, and their continuation was carefully monitored by the leaders of the main families. John Putnam not only provided large farms for each of his sons but also trained them in a specific trade. One became a weaver, another a bricklayer, etc. The farmer was also a craftsman, and all forms of useful labor were valued equally.

Another marked feature of this people was their military spirit. They were kept in a state of universal and thorough organization to protect themselves from Indian hostilities, or to respond, on any occasion, at a moment's warning, to the call of the country. The sentinel at the watch-house was ever on the alert. Authority was early obtained from the General Court to form a foot company. All adults of every description, including men much beyond middle life,—every[i.225] one, in fact, who could carry a musket, belonged to it. Its officers were the fathers of the village. Every title of rank, from corporal to captain, once obtained, was worn ever after through life. Jonathan Walcot, a citizen of the highest respectability, who had married as a second wife Deliverance a daughter of Thomas Putnam, and was one of the deacons of the parish, was its captain. Nathaniel Ingersoll, the other deacon, is spoken of from time to time as corporal, then sergeant, and finally lieutenant. He served with that commission till late in life, and was always, after attaining that rank, known as either Lieutenant or Deacon Ingersoll. The eldest son of Thomas Putnam, a leading member of the church, a man of large property, and the clerk of the parish, was one of the sergeants, always known as such. In our narrative, with which he will be found in most unfortunate connection, I shall speak of him by that title. It will distinguish him from his father. This "company" had frequent drills, probably from the first, in the field left by will afterwards for that purpose by Nathaniel Ingersoll. Often, no doubt, it paraded on the open grounds around the meeting-house, or in the fields of Joseph Hutchinson after the harvest had been gathered. It marched and countermarched along the neighboring roads. It was almost as much thought of as the "church," officered by the same persons, and composed of the same men. It was a common practice, at the close of a parade, before "breaking line," for the captain to give notices of prayer, church,[i.226] or parish meetings. Such men as Richard Leach, Thomas Fuller, and Nathaniel Putnam, esteemed it an honor to bear titles in this company; and held them ever after through life with pride, whether corporal, sergeant, lieutenant, or captain.

Another notable characteristic of this community was their military spirit. They were always organized to defend themselves against Indian attacks and to respond promptly to the country’s calls for help. The lookout at the watch-house was always alert. Early on, they received approval from the General Court to form a foot company. All adults, including older men, were part of it—everyone who could carry a musket. Its leaders were the village elders. Any title from corporal to captain once earned remained a lifelong designation. Jonathan Walcot, a highly respected citizen who married Deliverance, the daughter of Thomas Putnam, and served as one of the deacons of the parish, was the captain. Nathaniel Ingersoll, the other deacon, was often referred to as corporal, then sergeant, and finally lieutenant. He held that rank until late in life and was always known as either Lieutenant or Deacon Ingersoll after achieving that title. The eldest son of Thomas Putnam, a prominent church member, wealthy individual, and the parish clerk, was one of the sergeants and was always recognized as such. In our story, where he will regrettably be mentioned, I will refer to him by that title to distinguish him from his father. This “company” regularly trained, likely from its inception, in the field later left by Nathaniel Ingersoll for that purpose. They likely paraded around the meeting-house or in Joseph Hutchinson's fields after the harvest. They marched and countermarched along the local roads. It was nearly as significant as the "church," led by the same individuals and comprised of the same men. Often, at the end of a parade, before "breaking line," the captain would announce prayer, church, or parish meetings. Men like Richard Leach, Thomas Fuller, and Nathaniel Putnam considered it an honor to hold titles in this company and proudly carried them for life, whether corporal, sergeant, lieutenant, or captain.

A company of troopers was early formed, made up from the village and neighboring settlements. In the colonial records, under date of Oct. 8, 1662, we find the following: "Mr. George Corwin for captain, Mr. Thomas Putnam for lieutenant, Mr. Walter Price for cornet, being presented to this Court as so chosen by the troopers of Salem, Lynn, &c., the Court allows and approves thereof." The inventory of Captain Corwin, before cited, indicates the stylish uniform he wore as captain of the troopers. Each of the officers was a wealthy man; and it cannot be doubted that a parade of the company was a dashing affair. The lapse of time having thinned their ranks and removed their officers, a vigorous and successful attempt was made in October, 1678, to revive the company. Thirty-six men, belonging, as they say, "to the reserve of Salem old troop," and very desirous "of being serviceable to God and the country," petition the General Court to re-organize them as a troop of horse, and to issue the necessary commissions. They request the appointment of William Brown, Jr., as captain, and Corporal John Putnam as lieutenant. The petition was granted, and the commissions issued. Among the signers of this petition are Anthony Needham, Peter and Ezekiel Cheever, Thomas Flint,[i.227] Thomas and Benjamin Wilkins, Thomas and Jacob Fuller, John Procter, William Osborne, Thomas Putnam, Jr., and others of the Farms. The officers named were men of property and energy; and the company of troopers was kept up ever afterwards, until all danger from Indians or other foes had passed away.

A group of soldiers was formed early on, made up of folks from the village and nearby areas. In the colonial records dated October 8, 1662, we see: "Mr. George Corwin as captain, Mr. Thomas Putnam as lieutenant, Mr. Walter Price as cornet, presented to this Court as chosen by the troopers of Salem, Lynn, etc., the Court approves and allows this." Captain Corwin's inventory, mentioned earlier, shows the stylish uniform he wore as captain of the troop. Each officer was wealthy, and it's clear that a parade of the troop was quite spectacular. As time passed and their ranks thinned and their officers left, a strong and successful effort was made in October 1678 to revive the troop. Thirty-six men, who said they were "from the reserve of Salem old troop," eager "to be useful to God and the country," petitioned the General Court to re-organize them as a cavalry unit and issue the necessary commissions. They requested that William Brown, Jr. be appointed captain and Corporal John Putnam be made lieutenant. The petition was granted, and the commissions were issued. Among the signers were Anthony Needham, Peter and Ezekiel Cheever, Thomas Flint,[i.227] Thomas and Benjamin Wilkins, Thomas and Jacob Fuller, John Procter, William Osborne, Thomas Putnam, Jr., and others from the Farms. The officers named were property owners with energy, and the troop was maintained from then on until the threat from Indians and other foes diminished.

It is very observable how the military spirit with which this rural community was so early imbued has descended through all generations. Israel Putnam, the famous Revolutionary hero, a son of Joseph who was a younger brother of Sergeant Thomas and Deacon Edward Putnam, was born in the village. His brother David, much older than himself, who flourished in the period anterior to the Revolution, was a celebrated cavalry officer. Colonel Timothy Pickering used to mention, among the recollections of his boyhood, that David Putnam "rode the best horse in the province." General Rufus Putnam, a grandson of Deacon Edward, was a distinguished brigadier in the army of the Revolution. There are few officers of that army whose names are more honored than his by encomiums from the pen of Washington: and praise from him was praise indeed, for it was, like all his other judgments, the result of careful and discriminating observation. In a letter to the President of Congress, dated "At camp above Trenton Falls, Dec. 20, 1776," he speaks of the fact, that, owing to a neglect on the part of the Government to place the Engineer Department upon a proper footing, "Colo[i.228]nel Putnam, who was at the head of it, has quitted, and taken a regiment in the State of Massachusetts." He expresses the opinion, that Putnam's qualifications as a military engineer were superior to those of any other man within his knowledge, far superior to those of the foreign officers whom he had seen. In a letter to the same, dated "Pompton Plains," July 12, 1777, speaking of General Schuyler's army, he says, "Colonel Putnam, I imagine, will be with him before this, as his regiment is a part of Nixon's Brigade, who will answer every purpose he can possibly have for an engineer at this crisis." The high opinion of Washington took effect in his promotion as brigadier-general. At the end of the war, he returned to civil life, but was soon called back and re-commissioned as brigadier-general. Washington felt the need of him. In a letter to General Knox, Secretary of War, dated Aug. 13, 1792, he says, "General Putnam merits thanks, in my opinion, for his plan, and the sentiments he has delivered on what he conceives to be a proper mode of carrying on the war against the hostile nations of Indians; and I wish he would continue to furnish them without reserve in future." During Washington's administration of the government under the Constitution, Rufus Putnam held the office of Surveyor-General of the United States. In addition to his military reputation, he will be for ever memorable as the first settler of Marietta, and founder of the State of Ohio.

It's clear that the military spirit that influenced this rural community from the beginning has lasted through generations. Israel Putnam, the well-known Revolutionary hero, was born in the village. He was the son of Joseph, who was a younger brother of Sergeant Thomas and Deacon Edward Putnam. His older brother David, who thrived before the Revolution, was a famous cavalry officer. Colonel Timothy Pickering recalled from his childhood that David Putnam "rode the best horse in the province." General Rufus Putnam, a grandson of Deacon Edward, was a notable brigadier in the Revolutionary Army. Few officers from that army are more respected than he is, receiving praise from Washington himself: and praise from him was meaningful, as it came from careful and insightful observation. In a letter to the President of Congress, dated "At camp above Trenton Falls, Dec. 20, 1776," he noted that due to the Government's failure to properly support the Engineer Department, "Colonel Putnam, who was at the head of it, has left and taken a regiment in the State of Massachusetts." He believed Putnam's skills as a military engineer were better than anyone else's he knew, far surpassing those of the foreign officers he had encountered. In another letter, dated "Pompton Plains," July 12, 1777, regarding General Schuyler's army, he said, "Colonel Putnam, I assume, will be with him by now, as his regiment is part of Nixon's Brigade, who will meet any need he has for an engineer at this time." Washington's high regard for Putnam led to his promotion as brigadier-general. After the war, he returned to civilian life, but was soon recalled and re-commissioned as brigadier-general because Washington needed him. In a letter to General Knox, Secretary of War, dated Aug. 13, 1792, he stated, "General Putnam deserves thanks, in my opinion, for his plan and the ideas he shared on what he believes is the best way to conduct the war against the hostile Indian nations; and I hope he will continue to provide them openly in the future." During Washington's presidency under the Constitution, Rufus Putnam served as Surveyor-General of the United States. Besides his military legacy, he will always be remembered as the first settler of Marietta and the founder of the State of Ohio.

Israel Hutchinson was born in 1727. In 1757 he[i.229] was one of a scouting-party under the command of his neighbor, Captain Israel Herrick, that penetrated through the wilderness in Maine in perilous Indian warfare. He fought at Ticonderoga and Lake George, and was with Wolfe when he scaled the Heights of Abraham. On the morning of the 19th of April, 1775, he led a company of minute-men, who met and fought the British in their bloody retreat from Lexington. He was prominently concerned during the siege of Boston; and, on its evacuation, took command at Fort Hill. He was afterwards in command at Forts Lee and Washington. Throughout the war, he, like both the Putnams, had the confidence of his commander-in-chief. For twenty-one years, he was elected to one or the other branch of the Legislature, or to the Council. He was distinguished for the courtesy of his manners and the dignity of his address. Colonel Enoch Putnam was also at the battle of Lexington, and served with honor through the Revolutionary War, as did also Captain Jeremiah Putnam, both of them descendants of John. Captain Samuel Flint was among the bravest of the brave at Lexington, exciting universal admiration by his intrepidity; and fell at the head of his company at Stillwater, Oct. 7, 1777.

Israel Hutchinson was born in 1727. In 1757, he[i.229] was part of a scouting party led by his neighbor, Captain Israel Herrick, that ventured through the wilderness in Maine during dangerous Indian conflicts. He fought at Ticonderoga and Lake George and was with Wolfe when he climbed the Heights of Abraham. On the morning of April 19, 1775, he led a group of minute men who confronted and fought the British during their bloody retreat from Lexington. He played a significant role during the siege of Boston and took command at Fort Hill after the evacuation. He later commanded Forts Lee and Washington. Throughout the war, he had the trust of his commander-in-chief, just like both the Putnams. For twenty-one years, he was elected to various positions in the Legislature or the Council. He was known for his polite manners and dignified speech. Colonel Enoch Putnam also fought at the battle of Lexington and served honorably throughout the Revolutionary War, along with Captain Jeremiah Putnam, both of whom were descendants of John. Captain Samuel Flint was one of the bravest at Lexington, earning widespread admiration for his bravery, and he fell leading his company at Stillwater on October 7, 1777.

Intelligence of the marching of the British towards Lexington, on the 19th of April, 1775, reached the lower part of Danvers about nine o'clock that morning. With a rapidity that is perfectly marvellous, when we consider the distances from each other over which the[i.230] inhabitants were scattered, five companies, fully organized and equipped,—each of them containing men of the village,—rushed to the field in time to meet the retreating enemy at West Cambridge. It was a rally and a march without precedent, and never yet surpassed. The day was extremely sultry for the season; and the distance traversed by many of the men from the village, before they got into that fight, could not have been less than twenty miles. Seven belonging to Danvers companies were killed, and others wounded. A larger offering was made that day at the baptismal sacrifice to American liberty by Danvers than by any other town except Lexington; and no town represented in the scene was more remote. Of the men who fell on this occasion, the following appear to have been of the village: Samuel Cook, Benjamin Daland, and Perley Putnam,—the last a descendant of John. Their bodies were brought home, and buried with appropriate honors; two companies from Salem, and military detachments from Newburyport, Amesbury, and Salisbury participating in the ceremonies, and giving the soldier's tribute to their glory, by volleys over their closing graves.

The news of the British march toward Lexington on April 19, 1775, first reached the lower part of Danvers around nine o'clock that morning. With an astonishing speed, considering the distances between them, five fully organized and equipped companies—each made up of local men—rushed to the field in time to confront the retreating enemy at West Cambridge. It was an unprecedented rally and march, unmatched to this day. The weather was unusually hot for the season, and many of the men from the village traveled at least twenty miles before engaging in the fight. Seven men from the Danvers companies were killed, with others injured. That day, Danvers made a greater sacrifice for American liberty than any other town except Lexington, and it was one of the most distant towns involved. Among those who fell were Samuel Cook, Benjamin Daland, and Perley Putnam, the last being a descendant of John. Their bodies were brought home and buried with full honors, with two companies from Salem and military detachments from Newburyport, Amesbury, and Salisbury participating in the ceremonies, paying tribute to their bravery with volleys over their graves.

Moses Porter, when eighteen years of age, attracted attention by his heroic courage and indomitable pluck at Bunker Hill. He was in an artillery company, and would not quit his gun when almost every other man had fallen. His country never allowed him to quit it afterwards. From that day, he bore a commission in the army of the United States. He was retained on[i.231] every peace establishment, always in the artillery, and at the head of that arm of the service for a great length of time, and until the day of his death. He was in the battle of Brandywine, and wounded in a subsequent fight on the banks of the Delaware. He was with Wayne in his campaign against the Western Indians, and won his share of the glory that crowned it in the final bloody and decisive conflict. He was at the head of the artillery when the war of 1812 took place, in active service on the Niagara frontier, and on the 10th of September, 1813, brevetted "for distinguished services." He commanded at Norfolk, in Virginia, in 1814, and received great credit for the ability and vigilance with which he held that most vital point of the coast defence. At successive periods after the war, he was at the head of each of the geographical military divisions of the country. He died at Cambridge, Mass., in 1822, while in command of the Eastern Department, near the scene of his youthful glory, forty-seven years before. No man who fought at Bunker Hill remained so long a soldier of the United States. No man had so extended a record, and it was bright with honor from the beginning to the end. His pre-eminent reputation, as a disciplinarian and artillerist of the highest class, was uniformly maintained. He added to the sterner qualities required by professional duty a polished urbanity of manners, and a dignified and commanding aspect and bearing. His ashes rest beneath the sod of his ancestral acres in Salem Village.[i.232]

Moses Porter, at the age of eighteen, captured attention with his heroic bravery and unwavering determination at Bunker Hill. He was part of an artillery company and refused to leave his post even when nearly every other soldier had fallen. His country ensured he never left the army afterwards. From that moment on, he held a commission in the United States Army. He served on[i.231] every peacekeeping force, always in the artillery, leading that branch of service for a long time until his death. He fought in the Battle of Brandywine and was injured in a later skirmish on the banks of the Delaware. He accompanied Wayne on his campaign against the Western Indians and earned his share of the glory in the final bloody and decisive battle. He led the artillery during the War of 1812, serving actively on the Niagara frontier, and on September 10, 1813, he was awarded a brevet "for distinguished services." He commanded in Norfolk, Virginia, in 1814, earning high praise for his skill and vigilance in defending that crucial coastal position. After the war, he headed each of the geographical military divisions of the country at various times. He passed away in Cambridge, Mass., in 1822, while commanding the Eastern Department, close to where he had achieved his youthful fame forty-seven years earlier. No one who fought at Bunker Hill served as a soldier in the United States for as long. His record was extensive and consistently honored from start to finish. He maintained an exceptional reputation as a top-tier disciplinarian and artillery officer. Along with the stern qualities necessary for military duty, he possessed refined manners, a dignified presence, and an authoritative demeanor. His ashes rest beneath the soil of his family land in Salem Village.[i.232]

When the great war for the suppression of the Southern Rebellion came on, and the life of the Union was at stake, the same old spirit was found unabated. A descendant of the family of Raymonds, emulating the example of his ancestors, rallied his company to the front. At the end of the war, Lieutenant-Colonel John W. Raymond brought back, in command, the remnant of his veteran regiment, with its tattered banners; two of his predecessors in that commission having fallen in battle. The youthful patriot, William Lowell Putnam, who fell at Ball's Bluff on the 21st of October, 1861, was a direct descendant of Nathaniel Putnam. It is an interesting circumstance, that the names of men who trained in the foot company and with the troopers on the fields and roads about the village meeting-house two hundred years ago have re-appeared in the persons of their descendants, in the highest lines of service and with unsurpassed distinction, in the three great wars of America,—Major-General Israel, and Brigadier-General Rufus, Putnam, in the War of the Revolution; Brigadier-General Moses Porter, in the War of 1812; and Major-General Granville M. Dodge, in the War of the Rebellion. The last-named is a descendant of a hero of the Narragansett fight, and was born and educated in Salem Village.

When the great war to suppress the Southern Rebellion began and the future of the Union was at risk, the same old spirit remained strong. A descendant of the Raymond family, following in his ancestors' footsteps, led his company to the front lines. After the war, Lieutenant-Colonel John W. Raymond returned in command of the surviving members of his veteran regiment, carrying their worn banners; two of his predecessors in that role had died in battle. The young patriot, William Lowell Putnam, who died at Ball's Bluff on October 21, 1861, was a direct descendant of Nathaniel Putnam. It’s interesting to note that the names of men who trained with the foot company and with the cavalry near the village meeting-house two hundred years ago have re-emerged through their descendants, serving with exceptional distinction in America’s three major wars—Major-General Israel and Brigadier-General Rufus Putnam in the Revolutionary War; Brigadier-General Moses Porter in the War of 1812; and Major-General Granville M. Dodge in the Civil War. The latter is a descendant of a hero from the Narragansett fight and was born and raised in Salem Village.

Several lawsuits, particularly in land cases, have been referred to. They indicate, perhaps, to some extent the ingredients that aggravated the terrible scenes we are preparing to contemplate. They served to keep up the general intelligence of the community[i.233] through a period necessarily destitute of such means of information as we enjoy. Attendance upon courts of law, serving on juries, having to give testimony at trials, are indeed in themselves no unimportant part in the education of a people. Principles and questions of great moment are forced upon general attention, and become topics of discussion in places of gathering and at private firesides. Of this material of intelligence, the people of the village had their full share. It was their fate to have their minds, and more or less their passions, stirred up by special local controversies thrust upon them. As a religious society, they had difficult points of disagreement with the mother-church, and the town of Salem. While they were supporting a minister and trying to build a meeting-house for themselves, attempts were made to tax them to support the minister and build a new meeting-house in the town. There was a natural reluctance to part with them, and it was long before an arrangement could be made. The great distance of many of the farmers from the town prevented their exercising what they deemed their rightful influence in municipal affairs. They felt, that, in many respects, their interests were not identical, and in some absolutely at variance. These topics were much discussed, and with considerable feeling at times on both sides. The papers which remain relating to the subject show that the farmers understood it in all its bearings, and maintained their cause with clearness of perception and forcibleness of argument and expression. At one time, they were[i.234] very desirous to be set off as a distinct town, but this could not be allowed; and, finally, a sort of compromise was effected. A partial separation—a semi-municipality—was agreed upon. Salem Village was the result.

Several lawsuits, especially those related to land, have been mentioned. They perhaps highlight, to some degree, the factors that intensified the horrific events we are about to consider. They helped keep the community informed during a time lacking the means of information that we have today. Going to court, serving on juries, and providing testimony during trials are all important aspects of educating a population. Significant principles and issues draw public attention, becoming topics of discussion in social gatherings and at home. This flow of information reached the villagers, who found their minds, and often their emotions, stirred up by local disputes that confronted them. As a religious group, they faced complex disagreements with the mother church and the town of Salem. While they were trying to support a minister and build their own meeting house, there were attempts to tax them for the town's minister and a new meeting house. There was a natural hesitation to let them go, and it took a long time to reach an agreement. The great distance of many farmers from town prevented them from exercising what they saw as their rightful influence in local matters. They felt that, in many ways, their interests did not align and in some cases were completely opposed. These issues were widely discussed and often heated on both sides. The records that remain on the topic show that the farmers understood it fully and argued their position with clarity and strong reasoning. At one point, they were very eager to separate as a distinct town, but that couldn't happen; instead, they reached a sort of compromise. A partial separation—a semi-municipality—was established, leading to the creation of Salem Village.

In 1670, a petition, with twenty signers, was presented to the town to be set off as a parish, and be allowed to provide a minister for themselves. In March, 1672, the town granted the request; and, in October following, the General Court approved of the project, and gave it legal effect. The line agreed upon by the town and the village is substantially defined by the vote of the former, which was as follows: "All farmers that now are, or hereafter shall be, willing to join together for providing a minister among themselves, whose habitations are above Ipswich Highway, from the horse bridge to the wooden bridge, at the hither end of Mr. Endicott's Plain, and from thence on a west line, shall have liberty to have a minister by themselves; and when they shall provide and pay him in a maintenance, that then they shall be discharged from their part of Salem ministers' maintenance," &c. The "horse bridge" was across Bass River. The "wooden bridge" was at the head of Cow-House or Endicott River. Ipswich highway runs along from one of these points to the other. The south line, beyond the wooden bridge, is seen on the map. All to the north of this line, and of Ipswich highway between the bridges, to the bounds of Beverly and Wenham on the east; Topsfield, Rowley Village,—since Boxford,[i.235] and Andover on the north; and Reading and Lynn on the west,—was the Village. Middleton, incorporated afterwards, absorbed a large part of its western portion; but, at the time of the witchcraft delusion, the Village was bounded as above described, and as in the map. There was a specific arrangement fixing the point of time when the farmers were to become exempt from all charges in aid of the mother-church; that is, as soon as they had provided for the support of a minister and the erection of a meeting-house of their own. It was further stipulated, that the villagers should not form a church until a minister was ordained; and that they should not settle a minister permanently without the approval of the old church, and its consent to proceed to an ordination. This latter restriction was perhaps the cause of all the subsequent troubles.

In 1670, a petition with twenty signatures was submitted to the town to be recognized as a parish and allowed to choose a minister for themselves. In March 1672, the town approved the request, and in October that same year, the General Court endorsed the initiative and made it official. The boundary agreed upon by the town and the village was mostly determined by the town's vote, which stated: "All farmers who are currently or in the future willing to join together to provide for a minister among themselves, whose homes are above Ipswich Highway, from the horse bridge to the wooden bridge at the end of Mr. Endicott's Plain, and from there on a west line, shall have the right to have their own minister; and when they provide and pay for his support, they shall be relieved from their share of the maintenance of Salem ministers," etc. The "horse bridge" was located over Bass River. The "wooden bridge" was at the top of Cow-House or Endicott River. Ipswich Highway runs between these points. The southern boundary, beyond the wooden bridge, is marked on the map. Everything north of this boundary and along Ipswich Highway between the bridges, reaching the borders of Beverly and Wenham to the east; Topsfield, Rowley Village — since known as Boxford, [i.235] and Andover to the north; and Reading and Lynn to the west — comprised the Village. Middleton, which was incorporated later, took in a large part of its western area; however, during the witchcraft panic, the Village was bounded as described and as shown in the map. There was a specific agreement that set the time when the farmers would be free from all charges supporting the mother church; that is, as soon as they had arranged for the minister's support and built their own meeting house. It was also agreed that the villagers could not form a church until a minister was ordained; and they could not permanently settle a minister without the approval of the old church and its consent to proceed with the ordination. This last restriction likely contributed to all the subsequent issues.

Owing, as has been stated in another connection, to erroneous notions about the topography of the country; the incompetency perhaps, in some cases, of surveyors; and the want of due care in the General Court and the towns to have boundaries clearly defined,—uncertainties and conflicting claims arose in various portions of the colony, but nowhere to a greater extent than here. The village became involved in controversies about boundaries with each one of its neighbors; producing, at times, much exasperation. The documents drawn forth on these questions, as they appear in the record-book of the village, are written with ability, and show that there were men among them who knew how to express and enforce their[i.236] views. The plain, lucid, well-considered style of Nathaniel Ingersoll's depositions on the court-files, in numerous cases, render it not improbable that his pen was put in requisition. Sergeant Thomas Putnam, the parish recorder, as he was sometimes entitled, was a good writer. His chirography, although not handsome, is singularly uniform, full, open, and clear, so easily legible that it is a refreshment to meet with it; and his sentences are well-constructed, simple, condensed, and to the purpose. His words do their office in conveying his meaning. No public body ever had a better clerk. Somehow or other, he and others, brought up in the woods, had contrived to acquire considerable efficiency in the use of the pen. Perhaps, a few who, like him, had parents able to afford it, had been sent to Ipswich or Charlestown to enjoy the privilege of what Cotton Mather calls "the Cheverian education."

Due to, as previously mentioned, incorrect ideas about the geography of the area; the possible incompetence of some surveyors; and the lack of proper care by the General Court and towns to clearly define boundaries—uncertainties and conflicting claims emerged in various parts of the colony, particularly here. The village became entangled in boundary disputes with each of its neighbors, causing considerable frustration at times. The documents related to these issues, as recorded in the village's record book, are well-written and indicate that there were individuals among them who knew how to articulate and defend their[i.236] views. The clear, straightforward, and well-thought-out style of Nathaniel Ingersoll's depositions in numerous court files makes it likely that he was called upon to draft them. Sergeant Thomas Putnam, sometimes referred to as the parish recorder, was also a good writer. His handwriting, though not particularly beautiful, is remarkably consistent, full, open, and clear, making it a pleasure to read; his sentences are well-constructed, simple, concise, and to the point. His words effectively convey his meaning. No public body ever had a better clerk. Somehow, he and others raised in rural areas managed to become quite proficient with the pen. Perhaps a few, like him, whose parents could afford it, had been sent to Ipswich or Charlestown to benefit from what Cotton Mather refers to as "the Cheverian education."

The southern boundary of the village was intended to run due west from the Ipswich road to Lynn, and was accordingly spoken of as "on a west line." As originally established, it was defined by an enumeration of a variety of objects such as trees of different kinds and sizes, as running through the lands of John Felton, Nathaniel Putnam, and Anthony Needham, to "a dry stump standing at the corner of Widow Pope's cow-pen, leaving her house and the saw-mill within the farmer's range," and so on to "the top of the hill by the highway side near Berry Pond." From the changeable conditions of some of the objects, and a diversity of methods adopted by surveyors,—many[i.237] of them being unacquainted with, or making no allowance for, the variation of the compass,—controversies arose with the mother-town: and some proprietors, like the Gardners, were left in doubt how the line affected them; and there was, in consequence, much disquietude. The line was not accurately run until 1700.

The southern boundary of the village was meant to run straight west from the Ipswich road to Lynn and was referred to as "on a west line." When it was first established, it was defined by listing various objects like different kinds and sizes of trees, running through the lands of John Felton, Nathaniel Putnam, and Anthony Needham, to "a dry stump at the corner of Widow Pope's cow-pen, leaving her house and the sawmill within the farmer's range," and then to "the top of the hill by the highway near Berry Pond." Due to the changing conditions of some of these objects and different methods used by surveyors—many of whom were unfamiliar with or did not account for compass variation—disputes arose with the parent town. Some landowners, like the Gardners, were uncertain about how the line affected them, leading to a lot of unrest. The line wasn't accurately surveyed until 1700.

It is observable, that the "saw-mill" is still in operation on the same spot. The "cow-pen," then on the south side of the mill, was, more than a century ago, removed to the north side, where it has remained ever since. This estate has interesting reminiscences. It was an original grant in January, 1640, to Edward Norris, at the time of his settlement as pastor of the First Church in Salem. He sold to Eleanor Trussler in 1654. It then went into the possession of Henry Phelps, who sold to Joseph Pope in 1664. His widow, Gertrude, owned it in 1672. In 1793, Eleazer Pope sold to Nathaniel Ropes, son of Judge Ropes, of Salem. His heirs sold it back to the Phelpses; and it is now in the possession of the Rev. Willard Spaulding, of Salem. Originally given as an ordination present to a minister of the old town, it has, after the lapse of two hundred and twenty-six years, come round into the hands of another. The house in which the Popes lived one hundred and twenty-nine years, and the families that succeeded them for above half a century more,—a venerable and picturesque specimen of the rural architecture, in its best form, of the earliest times,—has, within the last ten years, given place to a[i.238] new one on the same spot. In that old house, besides unnumbered and unknown instances of the same sort, Israel Putnam conducted his courtship; and there, on the 19th of July, 1739, he was married to Hannah, daughter of Joseph Pope.

It’s clear that the "saw-mill" is still running at the same location. The "cow-pen," which was on the south side of the mill, was moved to the north side more than a century ago and has stayed there since. This property has a rich history. It was originally granted in January 1640 to Edward Norris when he settled as the pastor of the First Church in Salem. He sold it to Eleanor Trussler in 1654. It later came into the possession of Henry Phelps, who sold it to Joseph Pope in 1664. His widow, Gertrude, owned it in 1672. In 1793, Eleazer Pope sold it to Nathaniel Ropes, the son of Judge Ropes from Salem. His heirs sold it back to the Phelps family, and it is now owned by Rev. Willard Spaulding from Salem. Originally given as an ordination gift to a minister of the old town, it has, after two hundred and twenty-six years, come back into the hands of another minister. The house where the Popes lived for one hundred and twenty-nine years, along with the families that followed them for over half a century—a charming and historic example of early rural architecture—has, in the last ten years, been replaced by a[i.238] new building on the same site. In that old house, not to mention countless unknown incidents of a similar nature, Israel Putnam pursued his courtship; and there, on July 19, 1739, he married Hannah, the daughter of Joseph Pope.

Contests for what they deemed their rights with the old church and the border towns and their own town, as in the case just mentioned, undoubtedly produced a bad effect upon the temper of the people, by occasional expenses that consumed their substance, and incidents that sowed the seeds of personal animosities; preparing the way for that dreadful convulsion which was near at hand. At the very time when the witchcraft frenzy broke out, they were in the crisis of an exasperating conflict with Topsfield, occasioned by a wrong done them by the General Court. This requires to be explained, as it can be, by a collation of facts of record.

Contests over what they considered their rights with the old church, the border towns, and their own town, as in the case just mentioned, definitely had a negative impact on the people's mood, due to occasional costs that drained their resources and events that created personal grudges; setting the stage for the terrible upheaval that was about to happen. At the same time the witchcraft panic erupted, they were in the midst of a frustrating conflict with Topsfield, sparked by a wrong done to them by the General Court. This needs to be clarified, as it can be, by gathering recorded facts.

On the 3d of March, 1636, the General Court passed an order that the bounds of Salem, Ipswich, and Newbury, should extend six miles into the country. It was afterwards defined to mean that "the six-mile extent," as it was called, should be measured from the meeting-houses of the respective towns. On the 5th of November, 1639, the General Court passed an order in these words: "Whereas the inhabitants of Salem have agreed to plant a village near the river that runs to Ipswich, it is ordered that all the land near their bounds between Salem and the said river, not belonging to any other town or person by any former grant,[i.239] shall belong to the said village." On the strength of this order, the farmers in that part of Salem pushed settlements out beyond the "six-mile extent," over the ground thus pledged to them; cleared off the forests, built houses, brought the land under culture, erected bridges, made roads, and fulfilled their part of the contract by preparing to establish their village. Four years after the General Court had thus pledged to "inhabitants of Salem" the privileges of a village organization on the lands between "Salem and the said river," they authorized some inhabitants of Ipswich, who had gone there, to establish the village on the territory, independent of the Salem men. This was an unjustifiable and flagrant violation of the stipulated agreement on the part of the General Court; because it appears by their own records, that Salem farmers had promptly fulfilled the condition on their part by going directly upon the ground, and getting farms under way there before 1643. This careless and indefensible procedure by the General Court was the cause of interminable trouble and strife on the tract between Salem bounds and the river, introduced the elements of discord, and gave a color of legal justification to a conflict of authority between Salem and Ipswich men. It sowed the seeds of animosities which aggravated the scenes that occurred in Salem Village in 1692. In 1658, the General Court passed an order creating the town of Topsfield, including the larger part of these lands within its limits. No heed was paid to the remonstrances, against these[i.240] proceedings, of the Salem farmers, who found themselves, without their consent, permanently bereft of the benefit that had been promised them, cut off from all connection with the town of Salem, to which they originally belonged, and put in the outskirts of another town. It was a clear case of wrong, and ought to have been rectified. But public bodies are more reluctant even than individuals to acknowledge themselves in fault. The people of Salem Village joined in earnest protests against the acts of the General Court. The old town of Salem declared by a public vote, that they had always regarded the lands in controversy as belonging to the village which, under the plighted faith of the General Court, their inhabitants had been forming. But it was all in vain. Neither remedy nor reparation could be obtained. The struggle against this injustice lasted until some time after the witchcraft occurrences had terminated, and was finally brought to a close by an order of the Court, that the people on the territory might maintain parish relations with Salem Village or with Topsfield, at their individual option. Entire satisfaction was never realized until, in 1728, they were incorporated, in accordance with their petition, into a township, under the name of Middleton, with parts of Topsfield, Boxford, and Andover added. During a period of half a century, this grievance remained unadjusted. The proceedings on the part of the village in its public action, as shown in the records, were conducted with skill, ability, and firmness. But the col[i.241]lisions that occurred between particular parties were violent and bitter. Salem settlers were called to pay parish and town rates to Topsfield, but refused to do it. Constables and tax-collectors were defied. Topsfield went so far as to claim not only unoccupied lands, but lands within fence, with houses on them, and families within them, and orchards and growing fields around them, as part of its "commons;" and it disputed the titles given by Salem. Of course, the question went, in various forms, into the county courts; but sometimes, there is reason to believe, it came to a rougher arbitrament, in the depths of the woods, between man and man.

On March 3, 1636, the General Court passed an order stating that the boundaries of Salem, Ipswich, and Newbury would extend six miles into the countryside. It was later clarified that “the six-mile extent,” as it was named, would be measured from the meeting houses of the respective towns. On November 5, 1639, the General Court issued an order stating: "Whereas the inhabitants of Salem have agreed to establish a village near the river that flows to Ipswich, it is ordered that all the land near their boundaries between Salem and the aforementioned river, not owned by any other town or individual through any previous grant,[i.239] shall belong to the said village." Based on this order, the farmers in that part of Salem moved their settlements beyond the "six-mile extent," into the land designated for them; they cleared the forests, built homes, cultivated the land, constructed bridges, created roads, and did their part to set up their village. Four years after the General Court had granted the "inhabitants of Salem" the rights to form a village on the lands between "Salem and the aforementioned river," they permitted some residents of Ipswich, who had ventured there, to create a village on that land, independent of the Salem residents. This was an unjust and blatant breach of the promised agreement by the General Court, as it is clear from their own records that the farmers from Salem had quickly fulfilled their obligations by establishing farms there before 1643. This careless and indefensible action by the General Court led to endless conflict in the area between Salem's boundaries and the river, introducing discord and legitimizing a struggle for authority between the residents of Salem and Ipswich. It planted the seeds of animosity that escalated the tensions seen in Salem Village in 1692. In 1658, the General Court passed an order creating the town of Topsfield, which included most of these lands within its borders. The Salem farmers protested against these[i.240] actions, finding themselves, against their will, permanently stripped of the promised benefits, cut off from any connection to the town of Salem they originally belonged to, and placed on the outskirts of another town. It was a clear injustice that should have been corrected. However, public entities are often more reluctant than individuals to admit wrongdoing. The people of Salem Village strongly protested the actions of the General Court. The original town of Salem publicly voted to assert that they always considered the disputed lands as belonging to the village that, under the assured trust of the General Court, its residents had been forming. But it was all in vain. No remedy or compensation was ever secured. The struggle against this injustice continued until well after the witchcraft events concluded and was eventually resolved by a court order allowing those in the area to maintain parish relations with either Salem Village or Topsfield, based on their individual preference. Complete satisfaction was not achieved until, in 1728, they were incorporated, as per their petition, into a township named Middleton, with portions of Topsfield, Boxford, and Andover included. For half a century, this grievance remained unresolved. The village's public actions, as recorded, were carried out with skill, competence, and determination. However, the clashes between specific groups were intense and bitter. Salem settlers were required to pay parish and town taxes to Topsfield, but they refused. Constables and tax collectors were openly challenged. Topsfield even claimed not only unoccupied land but also land that was fenced, with houses and families living there, as well as orchards and cultivated fields, as part of its "commons"; it disputed titles granted by Salem. Naturally, the matter frequently found its way into the county courts; however, there is evidence to suggest that sometimes the disputes were settled in a rougher manner, face-to-face, in the depths of the woods.

John Putnam had gone out and settled lands between the "six-mile extent" of Salem and Ipswich River. Some of his sons had gone with him. They had two dwelling-houses, cultivated meadows, orchards, &c. Isaac Burton says, that, one day, when near John Nichols's house, he heard a tree fall in the woods; and that he went to see who was chopping there. It seems that Jacob Towne and John How, Topsfield men, had come in defiance of John Putnam, and cut down a tree before his face. As they were two to one, Putnam had to swallow the insult; but he was not the man to let it rest so. He went out shortly after, accompanied by an adequate force of sons and nephews, and proceeded to fell the trees. The sound of the axes reached the ears of the Topsfield men; and Isaac Easty, Sr., John Easty, John Towne, and Joseph Towne, Jr., undertook to put a stop to the operation. On reaching the spot, they[i.242] warned Putnam against cutting timber. He replied, "The timber now and here cut down has been felled by me and my orders;" and he proceeded to say, "I will keep cutting and carrying away from this land until next March." They asked him, "What, by violence?" He answered, "Aye, by violence. You may sue me: you know where I dwell;" and, turning to his company, he said, "Fall on." The Putnams were evidently the stronger party; and the Topsfield men, counting forces, concluded, in their turn, that discretion, at that time, was the better part of valor. Such scenes occurred on the disputed ground for a whole generation. It is not wonderful that all sorts of animosities were kindled. The fact will be borne in mind, that Isaac Easty and son, with John Towne and son, constituted the Topsfield force on this occasion.

John Putnam had gone out and settled lands between the "six-mile extent" of Salem and Ipswich River. Some of his sons had gone with him. They had two houses, cultivated meadows, orchards, etc. Isaac Burton says that one day, while near John Nichols's house, he heard a tree fall in the woods and went to see who was chopping there. It turns out that Jacob Towne and John How, from Topsfield, had come to confront John Putnam and cut down a tree right in front of him. Since they were two against one, Putnam had to take the insult, but he wasn't the type to let it go. Shortly after, he went out with a sufficient group of sons and nephews and started chopping down trees. The sound of the axes caught the attention of the Topsfield men; Isaac Easty Sr., John Easty, John Towne, and Joseph Towne Jr. decided to stop the operation. When they arrived, they warned Putnam against cutting timber. He replied, "The timber being cut down here is under my orders," and continued, "I will keep cutting and taking from this land until next March." They asked him, "What, by force?" He replied, "Yes, by force. You can sue me; you know where I live," and then turned to his group and said, "Go for it." The Putnams clearly had the upper hand, and the Topsfield men, assessing their numbers, decided that discretion was the better part of valor for that moment. Such scenes played out on the disputed land for a whole generation. It's no surprise that all kinds of resentments were sparked. It's worth noting that Isaac Easty and his son, along with John Towne and his son, made up the Topsfield group on this occasion.

It cannot be doubted, that these controversies with the surrounding towns, the mother-church, and the General Court itself, gradually engendered a very bad state of feeling. The people were deeply impressed with a conviction that they had been wronged all around and all the way through. They felt that the whole world was against them; and when, by a train of mischievous influences, hell itself seemed to be let loose upon them, it is not strange that they were driven to distraction.

It’s clear that the conflicts with nearby towns, the main church, and the General Court slowly created a very negative atmosphere. The people were strongly convinced that they had been wronged on all sides and at all levels. They felt like the entire world was against them; and when a series of harmful events seemed to unleash chaos upon them, it’s no wonder they were driven to desperation.

We come, at last, to that chapter in the history of Salem Village which will lead us directly to the witchcraft delusion. Its religious organization was some[i.243]what peculiar; and, although instituted by a particular arrangement made by the General Court, was, in one or two features, a complete departure from the ecclesiastical polity elsewhere rigidly enforced. It was a congregation forbidden, for the time being, to have a church. It was a society for religious worship, administered, not by professors of religion or by persons regarded at all in a religious light, but by householders. The people of the village liked it, perhaps, all the better for this; and they took hold of it with a will. Joseph Houlton gave to the parish five and a half acres of land, in the centre of the village, for the use of the minister. A parsonage-house was built, "forty-two feet in length, twenty feet broad, thirteen-feet stud, four chimneys, and no gable-ends." It was the custom to have a leanto attached to their houses, generally on the northern side; and one was finally added to the parsonage. There was a garden within the enclosure. Joseph Hutchinson gave an acre out of his broad meadow as a site for the meeting-house and it was erected; "thirty-four feet in length, twenty-eight feet broad, and sixteen feet between joints." Two end galleries were added, and a "canopy" placed over the pulpit. The mother-church, having about the same time built a new meeting-house, voted to give "the farmers their old pulpit and deacons' seats," which were brought up and duly installed. In the course of these proceedings, some slight differences arose among them about matters of detail, but not more than is usual in such cases. In order[i.244] to despatch at once all that may be required to be said about the meeting-houses of the village, it may be allowable here to mention, that the original building did not survive the century. In 1700, partly because the growth of the society began to require it, but mainly, no doubt, to escape from the painful associations which had become connected with it, a new meeting-house was built on another site. The old one was dismantled of all its removable parts, and the site reverted to Joseph Hutchinson. It is supposed that he removed the frame to the other side of the road, and converted it into a barn; and that it was used as such until, in the memory of old persons now living, it mouldered, crumbled into powder-post, and sunk to the ground. It stood, after being converted into a barn, on the south side of the road, nearly in front of Joseph Hutchinson's homestead. Hutchinson's dwelling-house was probably some distance further down in the field, where the remains of an old cellar are still to be seen. Nathaniel Ingersoll gave the land for the new meeting-house. The records contain the vote, that it "shall stand upon Watch-House Hill, before Deacon Ingersoll's door." The meeting-houses of the society have stood there ever since. At that time, it was an elevated spot, probably covered with the original forest; for the work of clearing, levelling, and preparing it for occupancy was so considerable as to require a special provision. The labor and expense of the operation were put on that portion of the[i.245] congregation brought nearer to the meeting-house by the change of the site.

We finally arrive at the chapter in Salem Village's history that will take us directly to the witchcraft delusion. Its religious organization was somewhat unusual; although established by a specific arrangement made by the General Court, it significantly deviated from the strict ecclesiastical structure enforced elsewhere. It was a congregation that, for the time being, wasn't allowed to have a church. It was a society for religious worship led, not by religious professionals or anyone viewed in a spiritual context, but by local homeowners. The villagers likely appreciated this, and they engaged with it enthusiastically. Joseph Houlton donated five and a half acres of land in the center of the village for the minister's use. A parsonage was constructed, "forty-two feet long, twenty feet wide, thirteen feet tall, with four chimneys and no gable ends." They typically had a lean-to attached to their homes, usually on the north side, and one was eventually added to the parsonage. There was a garden within the fenced area. Joseph Hutchinson gave an acre from his large meadow for the meeting-house site, which was built; "thirty-four feet long, twenty-eight feet wide, and sixteen feet high." Two end galleries were added, and a "canopy" was placed over the pulpit. The mother church, around the same time, built a new meeting-house and voted to give "the farmers their old pulpit and deacon's seats," which were transported and installed properly. During these events, some minor differences arose concerning details, but nothing more than what is typical in such situations. To quickly cover everything that needs to be said about the village's meeting-houses, it’s worth mentioning that the original building did not last the century. In 1700, partly because the society's growth demanded it, but mainly to distance themselves from the painful memories associated with it, a new meeting-house was built on a different site. The old one was stripped of all its removable parts, and the site was returned to Joseph Hutchinson. It’s believed that he moved the frame across the road and turned it into a barn; it was used as such until, as recalled by elderly residents, it decayed, crumbled to dust, and sank to the ground. After being converted into a barn, it stood on the south side of the road, almost directly in front of Joseph Hutchinson's home. Hutchinson's house was likely further down in the field, where the remains of an old cellar can still be seen. Nathaniel Ingersoll donated the land for the new meeting-house. The records show the vote declaring it "shall stand upon Watch-House Hill, in front of Deacon Ingersoll's door." The society's meeting-houses have stood there ever since. At that time, it was a raised area, likely covered with original forest; clearing, leveling, and preparing it for use was such a significant task that it required special provisions. The labor and costs were assigned to that part of the congregation that was brought closer to the meeting-house by the change in site.

In urging their petition to be set off as an independent parish, distinct from the First Church in Salem, the people of the village declared, that, if they could not have a ministry established among them, they would soon "become worse than the heathen around them." Little did they foresee the immediate, long-continued, and terrible effects that were to follow the boon thus prayed for. The establishment of the ministry among them was not merely an opening of Pandora's box: it was emptying and shaking it over their heads. It led them to a condition of bitterness and violence, of confusion and convulsion, of horror and misery, of cruelty and outrage, worse than heathen ever experienced or savages inflicted.

In their push to become an independent parish, separate from the First Church in Salem, the villagers declared that if they couldn’t have a ministry established among them, they would soon "become worse than the heathen around them." They had no idea of the immediate, long-lasting, and awful consequences that would follow the blessing they sought. Establishing a ministry among them wasn’t just opening Pandora’s box; it was like emptying and shaking it over their heads. It led them to a state of bitterness and violence, confusion and turmoil, horror and suffering, cruelty and outrage, worse than anything the heathen had ever faced or what savages had inflicted.

James Bayley of Newbury, born Sept. 12, 1650, a graduate of Harvard College in the class of 1669, was employed to preach at the village. In October, 1671, he transferred his relations from the church in Newbury to the First Church in Salem. It seems that several persons of considerable influence in the village were dissatisfied with the manner in which he had been brought forward, and became prejudiced against him. The disaffection was not removed, but suffered to take deep root in their minds. The parish soon became the scene of one of those violent and heated dissensions to which religious societies are sometimes liable. The unhappy strife was aggravated from day to day, until it spread alienation and acrimony[i.246] throughout the village. A majority of the people were all along in favor of Bayley; but the minority were implacable. His engagement to preach was renewed from year to year. At length, the controversy waxed so warm that some definite action became necessary. On the 10th of March, 1679, both parties applied to the mother-church for advice. A paper was presented by his opponents, with sixteen, and another from his friends, with thirty-nine signers. There was still another, also in his favor, signed by ten persons living near, but not within the village line. Although the number of his opponents was so much less than of his friends, they included persons, such as Nathaniel Putnam and Bray Wilkins, of large estates and families, and much general influence; and it is evident that the First Church was not inclined wholly to disregard them. The record of that church says, "There was much agitation on both sides, and divers things were spoken of by the brethren; but the business being long, and many of the brethren gone, we could not make a church act of advice in the case; therefore it was left to another time." At a meeting on the 22d of April, the Salem Church advised the minority "to submit to the generality for the present;" but, when a church should be formed there, "then they might choose him or any other." This advice does not appear to have satisfied either party; and the quarrel went on with renewed vehemence on both sides. At length, it reached such a pitch that it became necessary to carry it up to the General[i.247] Court. The whole affair was investigated by that body, and all the papers that had passed in relation to it were adduced. They are quite voluminous, and on file in the office of the Secretary of State, in Boston. These interesting and curious documents illustrate the energy of action of both parties; and give, it is probable, the best picture anywhere to be found of a first-rate parish controversy of the olden times.

James Bayley from Newbury, born September 12, 1650, graduated from Harvard College in 1669 and was hired to preach in the village. In October 1671, he moved his affiliation from the church in Newbury to the First Church in Salem. It seems that several influential people in the village were unhappy with how he had been appointed and became biased against him. This discontent only grew stronger and took deep root in their minds. The parish soon became the stage for one of those intense and heated disputes that religious communities sometimes face. The unfortunate conflict escalated day by day, spreading division and bitterness throughout the village. A majority of the people were generally in favor of Bayley, but the minority were relentless. His preaching contract was renewed year after year. Eventually, the controversy became so heated that some decisive action was needed. On March 10, 1679, both sides turned to the mother church for advice. His opponents presented a document with sixteen signatures, while his supporters submitted one with thirty-nine. There was also another document in his favor signed by ten people living nearby, outside the village. Although his opponents were significantly fewer in number than his supporters, they included individuals like Nathaniel Putnam and Bray Wilkins, who had considerable wealth and influence, making it clear that the First Church wasn’t ready to completely ignore them. The church's record states, "There was much agitation on both sides, and various issues were discussed by the brethren; but since the matter was prolonged, and many of the brethren had left, we couldn’t issue a church act of advice on the case; therefore, it was left for another time." At a meeting on April 22, the Salem Church advised the minority "to submit to the majority for the time being"; however, when a church was eventually established there, "then they could choose him or anyone else." This recommendation didn’t seem to satisfy either side, and the dispute continued with increased intensity. Ultimately, it escalated to the point that it was necessary to bring it to the General Court. That body thoroughly investigated the entire situation, reviewing all related documents. These records are quite extensive and are filed in the office of the Secretary of State in Boston. These intriguing documents showcase the vigorous actions of both parties and likely provide the best account available of a top-tier parish conflict from those times.

The General Court came down upon the case with a strong hand. They decided in favor of Bayley, whom they pronounced "orthodox, and competently able, and of a blameless and self-denying conversation;" and they "do order, that Mr. Bayley be continued and settled the minister of that place, and that he be allowed sixty pounds per annum for his maintenance, one-third part thereof in money, the other two-thirds in provisions of all sorts such as a family needs, at equal prices, and fuel for his family's occasions; this sum to be paid by the inhabitants of that place." This was thirteen pounds a year more than Bayley's friends had ever voted for him. To make the matter sure, the General Court required the parish to choose three or five men among themselves to apportion every man's share of the tax to secure the sixty pounds: and, if any difficulty should occur in getting men among themselves to perform this duty, they appointed to act, in that event, Mr. Batter, Captain Jonathan Corwin, and Captain Price, of the old parish of Salem, to make the rate; and gave[i.248] ample power to the constable of the village or the marshal of the county, to enforce the collection of it, by distress and attachment, if any should neglect or refuse to pay the sum assessed upon him. To make it still more certain that Mr. Bayley should get his money, they ordered "that all the rate is to be paid in for the use of the ministry unto two persons chosen by the householders to supply the place of deacons for the time, who are to reckon with the people, and to deliver the same to the said minister or to his order." The arrangement as to the agency of deacons was "to continue until the Court shall take further order, or that there be a church of Christ orderly gathered and approved in that place." This procedure of the Court was a pretty high-handed stretch of power even for those days; and giving the appointment of officers, with the title and character of deacons to mere householders, and where there was no church or organized body of professed believers, was in absolute conflict with the whole tenor and spirit of the ecclesiastical system then in force and rigidly maintained elsewhere throughout the colony. The Court seems itself to have been alarmed at the extent to which it had gone in forcing Mr. Bayley upon the people of Salem Village, and fell back, in conclusion, upon the following proviso: "This order shall continue for one year only from the last of September last past." The date of the order was the 15th of October, 1679. It had less than a year to run. In fact, the order, after all, before it comes to the end, is[i.249] diluted into a mere recommendation of Mr. Bayley. "In the mean while, all parties," it is hoped, will "endeavor an agreement in him or some other meet person for a minister among them;" but the General Court takes care to wind up by demanding "five pounds for hearing the case, the whole number of villagers equally to bear their proportion thereof."

The General Court took a strong stance on the case. They ruled in favor of Bayley, describing him as "orthodox, capable, and known for his honest and selfless character;" and they ordered that Mr. Bayley be appointed as the minister for that location, with an annual salary of sixty pounds, one-third in cash and the remaining two-thirds in various necessary supplies and fuel for his family; this amount to be covered by the local residents. This was thirteen pounds a year more than Bayley’s supporters had ever voted for him. To ensure everything went smoothly, the General Court required the parish to select three to five people to divide the tax among the residents to fund the sixty pounds. If the parish struggled to find enough people for this task, they designated Mr. Batter, Captain Jonathan Corwin, and Captain Price from old Salem parish to set the rate; they also empowered the village constable or the county marshal to enforce collection through distress or seizure if anyone failed to pay their share. To ensure Mr. Bayley received his payment, they decreed that "all the tax must be collected for the ministry by two people chosen by the householders to act as temporary deacons, who will account with the people and hand over the funds to the minister or his delegate." This arrangement regarding the deacons would stay in place "until the Court decides otherwise, or until a church of Christ is properly established and recognized in that area." The Court's actions were quite an overreach of authority, even for that time, as assigning the roles of deacons to local householders, in absence of an organized church or group of believers, completely contradicted the existing ecclesiastical structure that was strictly upheld throughout the colony. The Court appeared to realize the extent of its intervention in enforcing Mr. Bayley on the residents of Salem Village, ultimately concluding with a stipulation: "This order will be in effect for one year only from the end of September last year." The order was dated October 15, 1679. It had less than a year left to run. In fact, before it expired, the order essentially became a mere suggestion for Mr. Bayley. "In the meantime, all involved," it is hoped, will "seek an agreement either with him or another suitable person for a minister among them;" however, the General Court was careful to conclude by requesting "five pounds for hearing the case, with all villagers evenly sharing the cost."

While the power thus incautiously conceded to householders was duly noted, the apparently formidable action of the Court did not in the least alarm the opposition, or in the slightest degree abate their zeal. The householders continued, as before, to manage all affairs relating to the ministry in general meetings of the inhabitants. They proceeded at once to elect their two deacons. "Corporal Nathaniel Ingersoll" was one of them; and he continued to hold the office, in parish and in church, for forty years.

While the power carelessly given to homeowners was recognized, the seemingly powerful action of the Court didn’t frighten the opposition at all or lessen their enthusiasm in the slightest. The homeowners continued, just as before, to handle all matters related to the ministry in general meetings with the community. They quickly moved to elect their two deacons. "Corporal Nathaniel Ingersoll" was one of them, and he held the position, both in the parish and the church, for forty years.

As no attention was paid to the order of the General Court, so far as it attempted to fasten Mr. Bayley upon the parish; as the church in Salem would not take the responsibility of recommending his ordination in the face of such an opposition; and as it was out of the question to think of reconciling or reducing it, Mr. Bayley concluded to retire from the conflict and quit the field; and his ministry in the village came to an end. As evidence that the heat of this protracted controversy had not consumed all just and considerate sentiments in the minds of the people, I present the substance of a deed found in the Essex Registry. It will be noticed, that the most conspicu[i.250]ous of Mr. Bayley's opponents, Nathaniel Putnam, is one of the parties to the instrument.

As no attention was given to the order of the General Court regarding Mr. Bayley and the parish, and since the church in Salem refused to recommend his ordination due to such strong opposition, and it was impossible to think of reconciling or reducing the conflict, Mr. Bayley decided to step back from the struggle and leave the field; thus, his ministry in the village came to an end. To show that this lengthy controversy hadn’t wiped out all rational and considerate thoughts among the people, I present the essence of a deed found in the Essex Registry. It’s worth noting that one of Mr. Bayley’s most prominent opponents, Nathaniel Putnam, is a party to the document.

"Thomas Putnam, Sr., Nathaniel Putnam, Sr., Thomas Fuller, Sr., John Putnam, Sr., and Joseph Hutchinson, Sr. Deed of gift to Mr. James Bayley. Whereas, Mr. James Bayley, minister of the gospel, now resident of Salem Village, hath been in the exercise of his gifts by preaching amongst us several years, having had a call thereunto by the inhabitants of the place; and at the said Mr. Bayley's first coming amongst us, we above-named put the said Bayley in possession of a suitable accommodation of land and meadow, for his more comfortable subsistence amongst us. But the providence of God having so ordered it, that the said Mr. Bayley doth not continue amongst us in the work of the ministry, yet, considering the premises, and as a testimony of our good affection to the said Mr. Bayley, and as full satisfaction of all demands of us or any of us, of land relating to the premises, do by these presents fully grant, &c., to said Bayley" twenty-eight acres of upland, and thirteen acres of meadow in all. The several lots are described in the deed, and constitute a very valuable property. The instrument bears date May 6, 1680. Mr. Bayley's residence is indicated on the map. The land on which it stood belonged to the part contributed by Nathaniel Putnam, with some acres in front of it contributed by Joseph Hutchinson. He continued to own and occasionally occupy his property in the village for some years after the witchcraft trans[i.251]actions. He left the ministry, and prepared himself for the profession of medicine, which he practised in Roxbury. He died on the 17th of January, 1707.

"Thomas Putnam, Sr., Nathaniel Putnam, Sr., Thomas Fuller, Sr., John Putnam, Sr., and Joseph Hutchinson, Sr. Deed of gift to Mr. James Bayley. Whereas, Mr. James Bayley, minister of the gospel, currently living in Salem Village, has been using his gifts by preaching among us for several years, having received a call to do so from the residents of the area; and at the time of Mr. Bayley's arrival among us, we, the undersigned, provided him with suitable land and meadow to ensure his comfortable living among us. However, due to the providence of God, Mr. Bayley is no longer continuing in the ministry, yet, considering these circumstances, and as a sign of our goodwill towards Mr. Bayley, and as full settlement of any of our claims regarding the land mentioned, we hereby fully grant to Mr. Bayley twenty-eight acres of upland and thirteen acres of meadow in total. The specific parcels are detailed in the deed and represent a very valuable property. This document is dated May 6, 1680. Mr. Bayley's residence is indicated on the map. The land on which it stood was part of Nathaniel Putnam's contribution, with additional acres in front contributed by Joseph Hutchinson. He continued to own and occasionally use his property in the village for several years after the witchcraft incidents. He left the ministry and trained for a career in medicine, which he practiced in Roxbury. He passed away on January 17, 1707."

It is not very easy to ascertain from the parish records, or from the mass of papers in the State-house files, the precise grounds of the obstinate controversy in reference to him. It is evident that it began in consequence of some alleged irregularity in the proceedings that led to his first engagement to preach at the village. There are intimations, that, in the tone and style of his preaching, he did not quite come up to the mark required by some. The objection does not seem to have been against his talents or learning, but, rather, that he did not take hold with sufficient vehemence, or handle with sufficient zeal and warmth, points then engrossing attention. One or two expressions in the papers which proceeded from his opponents seem to hint that he had not the degree of strictness or severity in his aspect or ways thought necessary in a minister. Papers in the files of the County Court bring to light, perhaps, precisely the shape in which the charges against him had currency. On the 4th of April, 1679, complaint was made by Thomas and John Putnam, Srs., Daniel Andrew, and Nathaniel Ingersoll, against Henry Kenny "for slandering our minister, Mr. Bayley, by reporting that he doth not perform family duties in his family." This was an expression then in use for "family prayers." One young woman testified as follows: "Being at Mr. Bayley's house three weeks together, I never heard Mr. Bayley read a[i.252] chapter, nor expound on any part of the Scripture, which was a great grief to me." On the other hand, three men and one woman depose thus: "Having, for a year, some more, some less, since Mr. Bayley's coming to Salem Farms, lived at his house, we testify to our knowledge, that he hath continually performed family duties, morning and evening, unless sickness or some other unavoidable providence hath prevented." Two of the above witnesses depose more specifically as follows: "We testify,—one of us being a boarder at Mr. Bayley's house, at times, for two or three years, and the other having lived there about a year and a quarter,—that Mr. Bayley did not only constantly perform family prayers twice a day, except some unusual providence at any time prevented, but also did sometimes read the Scriptures and other profitable books, and also repeat his own sermons in his family that he preached upon the Lord's Days; always endeavoring to keep good order in his family, carrying himself exemplarily therein." The evidence against Bayley was afterwards found to be unworthy of credit, and was wholly overborne at the time by unimpeachable testimony in his favor. The conclusion seems to be safe, from all the papers and proceedings, that Mr. Bayley was, as the General Court had pronounced him, "of a blameless conversation." A letter from him to his people, relating to the disaffection of some, and expressing a willingness to relinquish his position, if the interests of the society would thereby be promoted, is among the papers. It[i.253] is creditable to his understanding, temper, and character.

It isn't easy to figure out from the parish records or the pile of documents in the State-house files the exact reasons behind the stubborn disagreement about him. It seems that it started because of some supposed irregularity in the events that led to his initial agreement to preach in the village. There are suggestions that his preaching style and tone didn't meet the standards expected by some. The issue didn't appear to be about his skills or knowledge, but rather that he didn't engage with enough intensity or passionately address the topics that were important at the time. A couple of comments from his opponents hint that he lacked the level of strictness or seriousness in his demeanor and conduct that people thought was necessary for a minister. Documents in the County Court files reveal how the charges against him became known. On April 4, 1679, Thomas and John Putnam, Jr., Daniel Andrew, and Nathaniel Ingersoll filed a complaint against Henry Kenny "for slandering our minister, Mr. Bayley, by claiming that he does not conduct family duties in his household." This was a term commonly used for "family prayers." One young woman testified: "During the three weeks I spent at Mr. Bayley's house, I never heard him read a chapter or explain any part of the Scripture, which was very upsetting to me." On the other hand, three men and one woman stated: "Having lived at Mr. Bayley's house for more than a year since his arrival at Salem Farms, we can confirm that he consistently performed family duties, morning and evening, unless sickness or some other unavoidable circumstance prevented it." Two of these witnesses offered more specific testimony: "We affirm—one of us being a boarder at Mr. Bayley's house at times over two or three years, and the other having lived there for about a year and a quarter—that Mr. Bayley not only regularly conducted family prayers twice a day, unless an unusual circumstance prevented it, but he also sometimes read Scriptures and other beneficial books, and even repeated his own sermons from Sundays at home; always striving to maintain good order in his household and acting as a role model." The accusations against Bayley were later found to be unreliable and were completely outweighed by credible evidence in his favor at the time. The consensus from all the documents and proceedings seems to be that Mr. Bayley was, as the General Court declared, "of a blameless character." A letter from him to his congregation, discussing the discontent of some and expressing his willingness to step down if it would benefit the community, is included among the documents. It reflects well on his understanding, temperament, and character.

The opposition to Mr. Bayley laid the train for all the disastrous and terrible scenes that followed. His wife was Mary Carr, of Salisbury. Her family, besides land in that town, owned the large island in the Merrimack, just above Newburyport, called still by their name, and occupied by their descendants to this day. Mrs. Bayley brought with her to the village a younger sister, Ann, who, when scarcely sixteen years of age,—on the 25th of November, 1678,—married Sergeant Thomas Putnam. The Carrs were evidently well-educated young women; and there is every indication that Ann was possessed of qualities which gave her much influence in private circles. Her husband was the eldest son of the richest man in the village, had the most powerful and extensive connections, was a member of the company of troopers, had been in the Narragansett fight, and, as his records show, was a well-educated person. Marriage with him brought his wife into the centre of the great Putnam family; and, her sister Bayley being the wife of the minister, a powerful combination was secured to his support. The opposition so obstinately made to his settlement, appearing to his friends, as it does to us, so unreasonable, if not perverse, engendered a very bitter resentment, which spread from house to house. Every thing served to aggravate it. The disregard, by the opposition, of the advice of the old church to agree to his ordination, and of the strong[i.254] endorsement of him by the General Court; and the failure of either of those bodies to take the responsibility of proceeding to his ordination,—made the dissatisfaction and disappointment of his friends intense. His connection by marriage with such a wide-spread influence, and the harmony and happiness of social life, made his settlement so very desirable that his friends could not account for the resistance made to it. His amiable character, which had been shown to be proof against slander; and his domestic bereavements in the loss of his wife and three children,—made him dear to his friends. More than three to one earnestly, persistently, from year to year, begged that he might be ordained; but what was regarded as an unworthy faction was permitted to succeed in preventing it. All these things sunk deep into the heart of the wife of Sergeant Thomas Putnam. She was a woman of an excitable temperament, and, by her talents, zeal, and personal qualities, wrought all within her influence into the highest state of exasperation. This must be borne in mind when we reach the details of our story. It is the key to all that followed.

The opposition to Mr. Bayley set off all the disastrous and terrible events that followed. His wife was Mary Carr from Salisbury. Her family owned land in that town and the large island in the Merrimack River, just above Newburyport, which still bears their name and is occupied by their descendants today. Mrs. Bayley brought with her to the village a younger sister, Ann, who, at just sixteen years old—on November 25, 1678—married Sergeant Thomas Putnam. The Carr sisters were clearly well-educated and Ann had qualities that gave her considerable influence in private circles. Her husband was the eldest son of the wealthiest man in the village, had powerful and extensive connections, was a member of the troopers, had fought in the Narragansett battle, and was well-educated, as his records indicate. Marrying him brought her into the heart of the influential Putnam family, and with her sister Bayley married to the minister, a strong support system was established for him. The opposition to his appointment, which appeared to his friends—as it does to us—to be unreasonable, if not willfully contrary, sparked a deep resentment that spread from house to house. Everything heightened this tension. The opposition's disregard for the old church’s advice to support his ordination, along with the strong endorsement he received from the General Court, and the failure of either body to take responsibility for proceeding with his ordination, intensified the dissatisfaction and disappointment among his friends. His family connections and the overall harmony and happiness of social life made his settlement extremely desirable, leaving his friends baffled by the resistance he faced. His kind character, which had proven resilient against slander, combined with his personal losses—his wife and three children—made him beloved by his friends. More than three to one fervently and persistently requested his ordination year after year, but what was seen as an unworthy faction was allowed to succeed in stopping it. All of these matters weighed heavily on the heart of Sergeant Thomas Putnam’s wife. She was an excitable woman, and through her talents, enthusiasm, and personal qualities, she stirred everyone around her into a heightened state of outrage. This context is essential to keep in mind as we move into the details of our story. It is key to understanding everything that followed.

The friends of Bayley, while they yielded to his determination to withdraw from his disagreeable position, never relinquished the hope to get him back, but renewed a struggle to that end, whenever a vacancy occurred in the village ministry. With that object in view, they were unwise and unjust enough to cherish aversion to every one who succeeded him, and thus kept alive the fatal elements of division. But it is due to[i.255] him to say, that he does not appear to have been at all responsible for the course of his friends. Although retaining his property in the village, and often residing there, there is no indication that he had a hand in subsequent proceedings, or was in the slightest degree connected with the troubles that afterwards arose. Arts were used to inveigle him into the witchcraft prosecutions: his resentments, if he had any, were invoked; but in vain. He resisted attempts, which were made with more effect upon one of his successors, to rouse his passions against parties accused. He kept himself free from the whole affair. His name nowhere appears as complainant, witness, or actor in any shape. He was, so far as the evidence goes, a peaceable, prudent, kind, and good man; and if the people of Salem Village had been wise enough, or been permitted, to settle him, the world might never have known that such a place existed.

The friends of Bayley, while they accepted his decision to leave his unpleasant situation, never gave up hope of bringing him back. They fought to achieve that every time a spot opened up in the village ministry. With this goal in mind, they acted foolishly and unfairly by harboring resentment towards anyone who took his place, thus keeping alive the destructive elements of division. However, it should be noted that he does not seem to have been at all responsible for his friends' actions. Although he kept his property in the village and often lived there, there's no evidence that he was involved in the events that followed or in any way linked to the troubles that arose later. Attempts were made to draw him into the witchcraft trials; any anger he may have had was stirred up, but it was all in vain. He resisted efforts, which were more successful with one of his successors, to provoke his emotions against the accused. He remained detached from the entire situation. His name does not appear as a complainant, witness, or participant in any form. Based on the evidence, he was a peaceful, sensible, kind, and good man; and if the people of Salem Village had been wise enough or allowed to settle him, the world might never have known that such a place existed.

George Burroughs, in November, 1680, was engaged to preach at Salem Village. He is supposed to have been born in Scituate; but his origin is as uncertain as his history was sad, and his end tragical. He was a graduate of Harvard College in the class of 1670. What little is known of him shows that he was a man of ability and integrity. Papers on file in the State House prove, that, in the district of Maine, where he lived and preached before and after his settlement at the village, he was regarded with confidence by his neighbors, and looked up to as a friend and counsellor. Certain incidents are related, which prove that he was[i.256] self-denying, generous, and public-spirited, laboring in humility and with zeal in the midst of great privations, sharing the exposures of his people to Indian violence, and experiencing all the sufferings of an unprotected outpost. In 1676, while preaching at Casco,—now Portland,—the entire settlement was broken up by an Indian assault. Thirty-two of the inhabitants were killed or carried into captivity. Mr. Burroughs escaped to an island in the bay, from which he was rescued by timely aid from the mainland. He wrote an account of the catastrophe, communicated by Brian Pendleton to the Governor and Council at Boston. In 1683 he was again at Casco; and, again driven off by the Indians in 1690, transferred his labors to Wells. A grant of one hundred and fifty acres of land was made to him, included in the site of the present city of Portland. As population began to thicken near the spot, the town applied to him to relinquish a part of it, other lands to be given him in exchange. In their account of the transaction, they state, that, in answer to their application, Mr. Burroughs said they were welcome to it; that he freely gave it back, "not desiring any land anywhere else, nor any thing else in consideration thereof."

George Burroughs was set to preach at Salem Village in November 1680. He may have been born in Scituate, but his origins are as unclear as his life was tragic and his end dramatic. He graduated from Harvard College in the class of 1670. What little is known about him shows that he was a capable and honest man. Documents at the State House indicate that in the area of Maine, where he lived and preached both before and after his time in the village, he was trusted by his neighbors and considered a friend and advisor. Certain events demonstrate that he was selfless, generous, and community-minded, working humbly and passionately despite significant hardships, enduring the threats his people faced from Indian attacks, and experiencing all the challenges of an unprotected outpost. In 1676, while preaching at Casco—now Portland—the entire settlement was devastated by an Indian attack. Thirty-two residents were killed or taken captive. Mr. Burroughs managed to escape to an island in the bay, where he was rescued by timely help from the mainland. He wrote an account of the disaster, which was shared by Brian Pendleton with the Governor and Council in Boston. In 1683, he returned to Casco, but after being driven out by the Indians again in 1690, he moved his efforts to Wells. He was granted one hundred and fifty acres of land, which are part of present-day Portland. As the population began to grow in that area, the town asked him to give up a portion of his land, offering him other land in return. In their notes about this request, they reported that Mr. Burroughs replied that they were welcome to it; he freely gave it back, saying he didn't want any land elsewhere or anything else in exchange.

In a vote passed at a meeting of Salem Village parish, Feb. 10, 1681, it was agreed that Mr. Burroughs should receive £93. 6s. 8d. per annum for three years, and £60 per annum afterwards. I suppose that he had no money or property of any kind. The parsonage was out of repair; and the larger sum for the first[i.257] three years, amounting to £100, in three instalments, was to be given him as an outfit in housekeeping. Immediately upon coming to the village to reside, he encountered the hostility of those persons who, as the special friends of Mr. Bayley, allowed their prejudices to be concentrated upon his innocent successor. The unhappy animosities arising from this source entirely demoralized the Society, and, besides making it otherwise very uncomfortable to a minister, led to a neglect and derangement of all financial affairs. In September, 1681, Mr. Burroughs's wife died, and he had to run in debt for her funeral expenses. Rates were not collected, and his salary was in arrears. In making the contract with the parish, he had taken care to add, at the end of the articles, these words, "All is to be understood so long as I have gospel encouragement." It is not improbable that there was a lack of sympathy between him and the ministers in this part of the country. He concluded that no benefit would accrue from calling a council to put things into order; and, as he was in despair of remedying the evils that had become fastened upon the village, he concluded to give up the idea of getting a settlement of his accounts, abandoned his claims altogether, and removed from the village.

At a Salem Village parish meeting on February 10, 1681, it was decided that Mr. Burroughs would receive £93. 6s. 8d. per year for three years, followed by £60 per year thereafter. I assume he had no money or property. The parsonage was in disrepair, and the larger amount for the first[i.257] three years, totaling £100, was meant to help him set up his household. Right after moving to the village, he faced hostility from those who were close to Mr. Bayley, allowing their biases to target his innocent successor. The unfortunate feuds from this situation thoroughly demoralized the Society, made it very uncomfortable for a minister, and led to neglect and chaos in all financial matters. In September 1681, Mr. Burroughs’s wife passed away, and he had to go into debt for her funeral expenses. Taxes weren’t being collected, and his salary was overdue. When he made the agreement with the parish, he made sure to include at the end of the articles, "This is understood as long as I have gospel encouragement." It’s likely there wasn’t much sympathy between him and the ministers in the area. He figured that calling a council wouldn’t help sort things out, and since he was desperate about fixing the issues that had taken hold in the village, he decided to give up on settling his accounts, dropped his claims entirely, and left the village.

At the April term of Court in Ipswich, 1683, a committee of the parish petitioned for relief, stating that Mr. Burroughs had left them, and that they had been without services in their meeting-house for four sabbaths. They pray the Court, that "they be pleased to[i.258] write to Mr. Burroughs, requiring him to attend an orderly hearing and clearing up the case," and "to come to account" with them. The Court accordingly directed a meeting of the inhabitants to be held, and wrote to Mr. Burroughs to attend it. When the day came, the Court sent a letter to be read at the meeting, directing the parties to "reckon," and settle their accounts. What transpired at this curious meeting is best given by presenting the documents on file in a case that went into Court. They show the proceedings that interrupted the "reckoning" at the meeting in a most extraordinary manner:—

At the April term of Court in Ipswich, 1683, a committee from the parish asked for help, saying that Mr. Burroughs had left them and that they had been without services in their meeting house for four weeks. They requested the Court to "please write to Mr. Burroughs, asking him to attend an orderly hearing to clarify the situation," and "to settle accounts" with them. The Court then arranged for a meeting of the residents and wrote to Mr. Burroughs to attend. When the day arrived, the Court sent a letter to be read at the meeting, instructing the parties to "reconcile" and settle their accounts. What happened at this unusual meeting is best explained by presenting the documents on file in a case that went to Court. They reveal the proceedings that disrupted the "reconciliation" at the meeting in a truly remarkable way:—

[County Court, June, 1683.—Lieutenant John Putnam versus Mr. George Burroughs. Action of debt for two gallons of Canary wine, and cloth, &c., bought of Mr. Gedney on John Putnam's account, for the funeral of Mrs. Burroughs.]

[County Court, June, 1683.—Lieutenant John Putnam versus Mr. George Burroughs. Lawsuit for two gallons of Canary wine and cloth, etc., purchased from Mr. Gedney on John Putnam's behalf, for the funeral of Mrs. Burroughs.]

"Deposition.

"Deposition."

"We, whose names are underwritten, testify and say, that at a public meeting of the people of Salem Farms, April 24, 1683, we heard a letter read, which letter was sent from the Court. After the said letter was read, Mr. Burroughs came in. After the said Burroughs had been a while in, he asked 'whether they took up with the advice of the Court, given in the letter, or whether they rejected it.' The moderator made answer, 'Yes, we take up with it;' and not a man contradicted it to any of our hearing. After this was passed, was a discourse of settling accounts between the said Burroughs and the inhabitants, and issuing things in peace, and parting in love, as they came together in love. Further, we say that the second, third, and fourth days of the following week were agreed upon by Mr. Burroughs and[i.259] the people to be the days for every man to come in and to reckon with the said Burroughs; and so they adjourned the meeting to the last of the aforesaid three days, in the afternoon, then to make up the whole account in public.

"We, whose names are signed below, declare that at a public meeting of the people of Salem Farms on April 24, 1683, we heard a letter from the Court being read. After the letter was read, Mr. Burroughs arrived. Once he had been there for a while, he asked if they accepted the advice from the Court included in the letter or if they rejected it. The moderator replied, 'Yes, we accept it,' and no one contradicted him that we heard. After this was settled, there was a discussion about settling accounts between Mr. Burroughs and the residents, and resolving matters peacefully, parting in love as they had gathered in love. Furthermore, we state that the second, third, and fourth days of the following week were agreed upon by Mr. Burroughs and the people as the days for everyone to come in and settle accounts with him; and so they adjourned the meeting to the afternoon of the last of those three days to finalize the entire account publicly."

"We further testify and say, that, May the second, 1683, Mr. Burroughs and the inhabitants met at the meeting-house to make up accounts in public, according to their agreement the meeting before; and, just as the said Burroughs began to give in his accounts, the marshal came in, and, after a while, went up to John Putnam, Sr., and whispered to him, and said Putnam said to him, 'You know what you have to do: do your office.' Then the marshal came to Mr. Burroughs, and said, 'Sir, I have a writing to read to you.' Then he read the attachment, and demanded goods. Mr. Burroughs answered, 'that he had no goods to show, and that he was now reckoning with the inhabitants, for we know not yet who is in debt, but there was his body.' As we were ready to go out of the meeting-house, Mr. Burroughs said, 'Well, what will you do with me?' Then the marshal went to John Putnam, Sr., and said to him, 'What shall I do?' The said Putnam replied, 'You know your business.' And then the said Putnam went to his brother, Thomas Putnam, and pulled him by the coat; and they went out of the house together, and presently came in again. Then said John Putnam, 'Marshal, take your prisoner, and have him up to the ordinary,—that is a public house,—and secure him till the morning.'

"We further testify and say that on May 2, 1683, Mr. Burroughs and the residents gathered at the meeting house to settle accounts in public, as agreed in the previous meeting. Just as Mr. Burroughs started to present his accounts, the marshal entered and, after a moment, approached John Putnam, Sr., and whispered something to him. Putnam then told him, 'You know what you need to do: carry out your duty.' The marshal then came over to Mr. Burroughs and said, 'Sir, I have a document to read to you.' He proceeded to read the attachment and demanded goods. Mr. Burroughs replied, 'I have no goods to show, and I'm currently settling accounts with the residents, as we don't yet know who owes what, but here is my body.' As we were about to leave the meeting house, Mr. Burroughs asked, 'So, what will you do with me?' The marshal turned to John Putnam, Sr., and asked, 'What should I do?' Putnam answered, 'You know your job.' Then Putnam went over to his brother, Thomas Putnam, tugged at his coat, and they left the house together, only to return shortly after. Then John Putnam said, 'Marshal, take your prisoner and bring him to the ordinary—that's a public house—and hold him there until morning.'

(Signed) "Nathaniel Ingersoll, aged about fifty.
Samuel Sibley, aged about twenty-four.

(Signed) "Nathaniel Ingersoll, around fifty years old.
Samuel Sibley, about twenty-four years old.

"To the first of these, I, John Putnam, Jr., testify, being at the meeting."

"To the first of these, I, John Putnam, Jr., testify, being at the meeting."

The above document illustrates the general position of the Putnam family through all the troubles of the Salem Village parish. Thomas and John were the heads of two of its branches, and participated in the proceedings against Burroughs. Nathaniel generally was on the other side in the course of the various controversies which finally culminated in the witchcraft delusion. His son, John Putnam, Jr., on this occasion, was a witness friendly to Mr. Burroughs. Nathaniel Ingersoll does not appear to have been a partisan on either side. His sympathies, generally, were with the friends of Bayley; but, on this occasion, his sense of justice led him to take the lead in behalf of Burroughs. Other depositions are as follows:—

The document above shows the overall stance of the Putnam family during the troubles in Salem Village. Thomas and John were the leaders of two branches and took part in the actions against Burroughs. Nathaniel, on the other hand, usually sided with the opponents during the various disputes that eventually led to the witchcraft hysteria. His son, John Putnam, Jr., was a witness supportive of Mr. Burroughs this time. Nathaniel Ingersoll didn’t seem to be on either side. While he generally sided with Bayley’s supporters, this time, his sense of fairness drove him to advocate for Burroughs. The other depositions are as follows:—

"The Testimony of Thomas Haynes, aged thirty-two years or thereabouts.—Testifieth and saith, that, at a meeting of the inhabitants of Salem Farms, May the second, 1683, after the marshal had read John Putnam's attachment to Mr. Burroughs, then Mr. Burroughs asked Putnam 'what money it was he attached him for.' John Putnam answered, 'For five pounds and odd money at Shippen's at Boston, and for thirteen shillings at his father Gedney's, and for twenty-four shillings at Mrs. Darby's;' that then Nathaniel Ingersoll stood up, and said, 'Lieutenant, I wonder that you attach Mr. Burroughs for the money at Darby's and your father Gedney's, when, to my knowledge, you and Mr. Burroughs have reckoned and balanced accounts two or three times since, as you say, it was due, and you never made any mention of it when you reckoned with Mr. Burroughs.' John Putnam answered, 'It is true, and I own it.'[i.261] Samuel Sibley, aged twenty-four years or thereabouts, testifieth to all above written."

"The Testimony of Thomas Haynes, around thirty-two years old. He testifies that at a meeting of the residents of Salem Farms on May 2, 1683, after the marshal read John Putnam's attachment to Mr. Burroughs, Mr. Burroughs asked Putnam, 'What money are you attaching me for?' John Putnam replied, 'For five pounds and some change at Shippen's in Boston, for thirteen shillings at your father Gedney's, and for twenty-four shillings at Mrs. Darby's.' Then Nathaniel Ingersoll stood up and said, 'Lieutenant, I find it strange that you're attaching Mr. Burroughs for the money at Darby's and your father Gedney's when, as far as I know, you and Mr. Burroughs have settled your accounts two or three times since this money was supposedly owed, and you never mentioned it during those reckonings.' John Putnam responded, 'That's true, and I admit it.'[i.261] Samuel Sibley, around twenty-four years old, testifies to all of the above."

"The Testimony of Nathaniel Ingersoll, aged, &c.—Testifieth, that I heard Mr. Burroughs ask Lieutenant John Putnam to give him a bill to Mr. Shippen. The said Putnam asked the said Burroughs how much he would take up at Mr. Shippen's. Mr. Burroughs said it might be five pounds; but, after the said Burroughs had considered a little, he said to the said Putnam, 'It may be it might come to more:' therefore he would have him give him a bill to the value of five or six pounds,—when Putnam answered, it was all one to him. Then the said Putnam went and writ it, and read it to Mr. Burroughs, and said to him that it should go for part of the £33. 6s. 8d. for which he had given a bill to him in behalf of the inhabitants. I, Hannah Ingersoll, aged forty-six years or thereabouts, testify the same."

"The Testimony of Nathaniel Ingersoll, aged, &c.—I testify that I heard Mr. Burroughs ask Lieutenant John Putnam for a bill to Mr. Shippen. Lieutenant Putnam asked Mr. Burroughs how much he wanted at Mr. Shippen's. Mr. Burroughs said it might be five pounds; but after thinking it over, he told Putnam, 'It could be more.' So, he asked Putnam to write a bill for five or six pounds. Putnam replied that it didn't matter to him. Then Putnam wrote it out, read it to Mr. Burroughs, and mentioned that it would count towards the £33. 6s. 8d. for which he had provided a bill on behalf of the inhabitants. I, Hannah Ingersoll, about forty-six years old, testify to the same."

It seems by the foregoing, that Mr. Burroughs had presented a bill, of the amount just mentioned, to John Putnam, who, as chairman of the committee the preceding year, represented the inhabitants; and it was deliberately and formally agreed, that the sum borrowed of Putnam by Burroughs should "go for part of it." The records of the parish show, that, on the 24th of May,—three weeks after this meeting "for reckoning,"—a vote was passed to raise, by a rate, "fifteen pounds for Mr. Burroughs for the last quarter of a year he preached with us." At a meeting in December of the same year, a rate was ordered, to pay the debts of the parish, amounting to £52. 1s. 1d. On the 22d of the ensuing February, the parish voted to raise "fifteen pounds for Mr. Burroughs."[i.262] The record of a meeting in April, 1684, contains an order, left on the book, with Mr. Burroughs's proper signature, authorizing Lieutenant Thomas Putnam to receive of the committee "what is due to me from the inhabitants of Salem Farms." Thus it is evident, that, at the very day when the ruthless proceedings above described took place, a considerable balance was due to Mr. Burroughs, after all claims from all quarters had been "reckoned." The return of the marshal, made to the Court, was as follows:—

It appears from the above that Mr. Burroughs had presented a bill, for the amount just mentioned, to John Putnam, who, as the chairman of the committee the previous year, represented the community; and it was explicitly and officially agreed that the sum borrowed from Putnam by Burroughs would "go toward part of it." The parish records indicate that on May 24th—three weeks after this "reconciliation" meeting—a vote was passed to raise a rate of "fifteen pounds for Mr. Burroughs for the last quarter he preached with us." At a meeting in December of that year, a rate was ordered to cover the parish's debts, totaling £52. 1s. 1d. On February 22nd of the following year, the parish voted to raise "fifteen pounds for Mr. Burroughs."[i.262] The record of a meeting in April 1684 includes an order, left in the book, with Mr. Burroughs's signature, authorizing Lieutenant Thomas Putnam to receive from the committee "what is due to me from the inhabitants of Salem Farms." Therefore, it is clear that, on the very day when the harsh actions described above occurred, a significant balance was still owed to Mr. Burroughs after all claims from every side had been "settled." The return of the marshal, submitted to the Court, was as follows:—

"I have attached the body of George Burroughs he tendered to me,—for he said he had no pay,—and taken bonds to the value of fourteen pounds money, and read this to him.

"I have attached the body of George Burroughs that he offered to me—for he said he had no payment—and taken bonds worth fourteen pounds, and read this to him."

Per me,

For me,

Henry Skerry, Marshal."

Henry Skerry, Marshal.

The bond is as follows. I give the names of the signers. The persons who interposed to rescue a persecuted man from unjust imprisonment deserve to be held in honored remembrance.

The bond is as follows. I list the names of the signers. The people who stepped in to save an unjustly imprisoned man deserve to be remembered with honor.

"We whose names are underwritten do bind ourselves jointly and severally to Henry Skerry, Marshal of Salem, our heirs, executors, and administrators, in the sum of fourteen pounds money, that George Burroughs shall appear at the next court at Salem, to answer to Lieutenant John Putnam, according to the summons of this attachment, and to abide the order of the court therein, and not to depart without license; as witness our hands this 2d of May, 1683.

We, the undersigned, bind ourselves jointly and individually to Henry Skerry, Marshal of Salem, along with our heirs, executors, and administrators, in the amount of fourteen pounds, that George Burroughs will appear at the next court in Salem to answer to Lieutenant John Putnam, as stated in this attachment, and to follow the court's orders, not leaving without permission; as evidence of our agreement, we sign this on May 2, 1683.

"George Burroughs.
Nathaniel Ingersoll.
John Buxton.
Thomas Haynes.
Samuel Sibley.
William Sibley.
William Ireland, Jr."

"George Burroughs.
Nathaniel Ingersoll.
John Buxton.
Thomas Haynes.
Samuel Sibley.
William Sibley.
William Ireland Jr."

The case was withdrawn, and Burroughs was glad to get away. He preferred the Indians at Casco Bay to the people here. When we consider, that a committee of the parish petitioned the Court to have such a meeting of the inhabitants; that it was held, by an order of Court, in compliance with said petition; that Burroughs came back to the village to attend it; that the meeting agreed, in answer to an inquiry from him to that effect, to conform to the order of the Court in making it the occasion of a full and final "reckoning" between them; that they spent two days and a half in bringing in and sifting all claims on either side; and that, when, at the time agreed upon,—the afternoon of the third day,—the whole body of the inhabitants had come together to ratify and give effect to the "reckoning," the marshal came in with a writ, and, evidently in violation of his feelings, was forced by John Putnam to arrest Burroughs, thereby breaking up the proceedings asked for by the parish and ordered by the Court, for a debt which he did not owe,—it must be allowed, that it was one of the most audacious and abominable outrages ever committed.

The case was dropped, and Burroughs was relieved to leave. He preferred the Native Americans at Casco Bay over the people here. When we consider that a committee from the parish requested the Court to hold a meeting for the local residents; that it took place, following a court order, in response to that request; that Burroughs returned to the village to attend it; that during the meeting, in response to his inquiry about it, they agreed to follow the court's order to use this meeting as a full and final "reckoning" between them; that they spent two and a half days discussing and reviewing all claims from both sides; and that when, at the agreed time—the afternoon of the third day—all the residents gathered to confirm and finalize the "reckoning," the marshal came in with a writ, and, clearly against his better judgment, was compelled by John Putnam to arrest Burroughs, thereby derailing the proceedings requested by the parish and mandated by the Court, for a debt he did not owe—it must be acknowledged that this was one of the most shocking and disgraceful acts ever committed.

The scene presented in these documents is perhaps as vivid, and brings the actual life before us as strikingly, as any thing that has come down to us from that day. We can see, as though we were looking in at the door, the spectacle presented in the old meeting-house: the farmers gathered from their remote and widely scattered plantations, some possibly coming in travelling family-vehicles,—although it is quite[i.264] uncertain whether there were any at that time among the farmers; some in companies on farm-carts; many on foot; but the greater number on horseback, in their picturesque costume of homespun or moose-skin, with cowl-shaped hoods, or hats with a brim, narrow in front, but broad and slouching behind, hanging over the shoulders. Every man was belted and sworded. They did not wear weapons merely for show. There was half a score of men in that assembly who were in the Narragansett fight; and some bore on their persons scars from that bloody scene of desperate heroism. Every man, it is probable, had come to the meeting with his firelock on his shoulder, to defend himself and companions against Indians lurking in the thick woods through which they had to pass. Their countenances bespoke the passions to which they had been wrought up by their fierce parish quarrels,—rugged, severe, and earnest. We can see the grim bearing of the cavalry lieutenant, John Putnam, and of his elder brother and predecessor in commission. Marshal Skerry, with his badges of office, is reluctant to execute its functions upon a persecuted and penniless minister; but, in accordance with the stern demands of the inexorable prosecutors, is faithful still to his painful duty. The minister is the central object in the picture,—a small, dark-complexioned man, the amazed but calm and patient victim of an animosity in which he had no part, and for which he was in no wise responsible. The unresisting dignity of his bearing is quite observable. "We are now reckoning; we know not[i.265] yet who is in debt. I have no pay; but here is my body." Perhaps, in that unconspicuous frame, and through that humble garb, the sinewy nerves and muscles of steel, the compact and concentrated forces, that were the marvel of his times, and finally cost him his life, were apparent in his movements and attitudes. It may be, that the sufferings and exposures of his previous life had left upon his swarthy features a stamp of care and melancholy, foreshadowing the greater wrongs and trials in store for him. But the chief figure in the group is the just man who rose and rebuked the harsh and reprehensible procedure of the powerful landholder, neighbor and friend though he was. The manner in which the arbitrary trooper bowed to the rebuke, if it does not mitigate our resentment of his conduct, illustrates the extraordinary influence of Nathaniel Ingersoll's character, and demonstrates the deference in which all men held him.

The scene described in these documents is as vivid and brings the reality of life before us as strikingly as anything we've received from that day. We can see, as if we were peeking through the door, the spectacle in the old meeting house: farmers coming from their remote and widely scattered farms, some possibly arriving in family carriages—though it’s uncertain if any farmer had them at that time; others traveling in groups on farm carts; many on foot; but most on horseback, dressed in their colorful homespun or moose-skin outfits, with cowl-shaped hoods or hats that were narrow-brimmed in front but wide and floppy at the back, hanging over their shoulders. Every man was belted with a sword. They didn’t wear weapons just for show. There were a handful of men in that assembly who had fought in the Narragansett battle, and some carried scars from that bloody scene of desperate bravery. It’s likely every man came to the meeting with his firearm at the ready to protect himself and his companions from any Indians lurking in the dense woods they had to pass through. Their faces showed the intensity of their emotions, shaped by fierce local conflicts—rugged, serious, and earnest. We can see the grim expression of cavalry lieutenant John Putnam, along with that of his elder brother and former commander. Marshal Skerry, with his badges of office, hesitates to carry out his duties against a persecuted and broke minister, but, adhering to the hard demands of the relentless prosecutors, he remains true to his difficult task. The minister stands at the center of the picture—a small, dark-skinned man, the bewildered but calm and patient target of resentment he had no part in creating and for which he was in no way responsible. The dignity with which he endures is quite evident. "We are now taking stock; we don’t yet know who owes what. I have no payment; but here is my body." Maybe, in that unremarkable frame, and through that simple clothing, the strong muscles and nerves of steel, the concentrated forces that were remarkable for his time, and ultimately cost him his life, could be seen in his movements and posture. It’s possible that the hardships and challenges of his past had left a mark of worry and sadness on his dark features, hinting at the greater wrongs and trials ahead. But the main figure in the group is the just man who stood up and criticized the harsh and unjust actions of the powerful landowner, neighbor and friend though he was. The way the authoritative trooper bowed to the rebuke, while it may not lessen our anger at his actions, shows the remarkable influence of Nathaniel Ingersoll's character and demonstrates the respect everyone had for him.

There are in this affair other points worthy of notice, as showing the effects of their bitter feuds in rendering them insensible to every appeal of charity or humanity. Their minds had become so soured, and their sense of what was right so impaired, that they neglected and refused to fulfil their most ordinary obligations to each other, and to themselves as a society. Rates were not collected, and contracts were not complied with. The minister and his family were left without the necessaries of life. They were compelled to borrow even their clothing, articles of which constituted a part of the debt for which he was arrested in such a[i.266] public and unfeeling manner. A young woman testifies that she lived with Mr. Burroughs about two years, and says: "My mistress did tell me that she had some serge of John Putnam's wife, to make Mary a coat; and also some fustian of his wife, to make my mistress a pair of sleeves." The principal items in the account were for articles required at the death of his wife, by the usages of that day on funeral occasions. Surely it was an outrage upon human nature to spring a suit at law and have a writ served on him, and take him as a prisoner, on such an occasion, under such circumstances, on an alleged debt incurred by such a bereavement, when poverty and necessity had left him no alternative. The whole procedure receives the stamp, not only of cruelty, but of infamy, from the fact, which Nathaniel Ingersoll compelled Putnam to acknowledge before the whole congregation, that the account had been settled and the debt paid long before.

There are other noteworthy points in this situation that highlight how their bitter feuds made them indifferent to any appeal for kindness or humanity. Their minds had become so bitter, and their sense of right so distorted, that they ignored and refused to meet their basic obligations to one another and to themselves as a community. Fees weren't paid, and agreements weren't honored. The minister and his family were left without the essentials for living. They had to borrow even their clothing, items that formed part of the debt for which he was arrested in such a public and heartless manner. A young woman testified that she lived with Mr. Burroughs for about two years, saying: "My mistress told me that she had some fabric from John Putnam's wife to make Mary a coat; and also some material from his wife to make my mistress a pair of sleeves." The main items in the account were for things needed at the death of his wife, according to the customs of that time concerning funerals. It was certainly a violation of human decency to initiate a lawsuit and have a writ served on him, taking him as a prisoner during such a moment, under such circumstances, over an alleged debt related to such a loss, when poverty and need had left him with no other choice. The entire process carries the marks of not just cruelty, but of shame, especially since Nathaniel Ingersoll forced Putnam to admit before the entire congregation that the account had been settled and the debt paid long before.

John Putnam, although a hard and stern man, had many traits of dignity and respectability in his character. That he could have done this thing, in this way, proves the extent to which prejudice and passion may carry one, particularly where party spirit consumes individual reason and conscience. At this point it is well to consider a piece of testimony brought against Burroughs nine years afterwards. There was no propriety or sense in giving it when it was adduced. It was, in truth, an outrage to have introduced such testimony in a case where Burroughs[i.267] was on trial for witchcraft; and it was allowed, only to prejudice and mislead the minds of a jury and of the public. But it is proper to be taken into view, in forming a just estimate, with an impartial aim, of his general character. The document is found in a promiscuous bundle of witchcraft papers.

John Putnam, while being a tough and strict man, had many qualities of dignity and respect in his character. That he could have done this thing, in this manner, shows how far prejudice and passion can push someone, especially when party spirit overrides individual reason and conscience. At this point, it’s important to consider a piece of evidence brought against Burroughs nine years later. There was no reason or sense in presenting it when it was introduced. It was, in fact, a disgrace to have brought in such testimony in a case where Burroughs[i.267] was on trial for witchcraft; and it was allowed only to bias and mislead the jury and the public. However, it should be taken into account when forming a fair judgment, with an impartial perspective, of his overall character. The document is found in a random collection of witchcraft papers.

"The Deposition of John Putnam and Rebecca his Wife.—Testifieth and saith, that, in the year 1680, Mr. Burroughs lived in our house nine months. There being a great difference betwixt said Burroughs and his wife, the difference was so great that they did desire us, the deponents, to come into their room to hear their difference. The controversy that was betwixt them was, that the aforesaid Burroughs did require his wife to give him a written covenant, under her hand and seal, that she would never reveal his secrets. Our answer was, that they had once made a covenant we did conceive did bind each other to keep their lawful secrets. And further saith, that, all the time that said Burroughs did live at our house, he was a very harsh and sharp man to his wife; notwithstanding, to our observation, she was a very good and dutiful wife to him."

"The testimony of John Putnam and his wife, Rebecca.—Testifies and says that, in the year 1680, Mr. Burroughs lived in our house for nine months. There was a significant difference between Mr. Burroughs and his wife; the disagreement was so significant that they asked us, the deponents, to come into their room to hear their dispute. The issue between them was that Mr. Burroughs wanted his wife to give him a written agreement, signed and sealed by her, promising that she would never reveal his secrets. Our response was that they had previously made an agreement that we believed obligated them to keep each other's legitimate secrets. Additionally, we observed that during the time Mr. Burroughs lived in our house, he was very harsh and critical towards his wife; however, to our observation, she was a very good and devoted wife to him."

The first observation that occurs in examining this piece of testimony is, that the answer made by Putnam and his wife was excellent, and, like every thing from him, shows that he was a man of strong common sense, and had a forcible and effectual way of expressing himself. The next thing to be considered is, that Mr. Burroughs probably discovered, soon after coming to the village, into what a hornets' nest he had got,[i.268]—every one tattling about and backbiting each other. His innocent and unsuspicious wife may have indulged a little in what is considered the amiable proclivity of her sex, and have let fall, in tea-table talk, what cavillers and mischief-makers were on hand to take up; and he may have found it both necessary and difficult to teach her caution and reserve. He saw, more perhaps than she did, the danger of getting involved in the personal acrimonies with which the whole community was poisoned. Her unguarded carelessness might get herself and him into trouble, and vitally impair their happiness and his usefulness. The only other point to be remarked upon is the general charge against Mr. Burroughs's temper and disposition. It may be that he became so disgusted with the state of things as to have shown some acerbity in his manners, but such a supposition is not in harmony with what little is known of him from other sources; and John Putnam's conduct at the meeting described proves that his mind was fully perverted, and bereft as it were of all moral rectitude of judgment, in reference to Mr. Burroughs. We must part with Mr. Burroughs for the present. We shall meet him again, where the powers of malignity will be more shamelessly let loose upon him, and prevail to his destruction.

The first thing that stands out when looking at this testimony is that Putnam and his wife's response was impressive. Like everything he does, it shows he had strong common sense and a powerful way of expressing himself. Next, it’s important to consider that Mr. Burroughs probably realized pretty quickly, after arriving in the village, what a mess he had gotten into—everyone gossiping and talking behind each other's backs. His naive and unsuspecting wife may have unintentionally contributed to this typical behavior of her gender, sharing too much during casual conversations that gossipers and troublemakers were eager to pick up on. He may have found it both necessary and challenging to teach her to be more cautious and reserved. He likely understood the risk of getting caught up in the personal conflicts that were poisoning the community more than she did. Her indiscreet behavior could cause problems for both of them, harming their happiness and his ability to contribute positively. The only other thing worth noting is the general criticism of Mr. Burroughs's temperament and disposition. It’s possible he became so frustrated with the situation that he showed some bitterness in his demeanor, but this idea doesn’t align with what little is known about him from other sources. In fact, John Putnam’s behavior at the meeting demonstrates that his perspective was completely skewed and lacking in moral judgment concerning Mr. Burroughs. For now, we must leave Mr. Burroughs. We will encounter him later, when the forces of hostility will be unleashed on him even more shamelessly, leading to his downfall.

He was succeeded in the ministry at Salem Village by a character of a totally different class. Deodat Lawson is first heard of in this country, according to Mr. Savage, at Martha's Vineyard in 1671. He took the freeman's oath at Boston in 1680, and continued[i.269] to have his residence there. It was not until after much negotiation and considerable importunity, that he was prevailed upon to enter into an engagement to preach at the Village. He began his ministry early in 1684, as appears by the parish record of a meeting Feb. 22, 1684: "Voted that Joseph Herrick, Jonathan Putnam, and Goodman Cloyse are desired to take care for to get a boat for the removing of Mr. Lawson's goods." Votes, about this time, were passed to repair the parsonage, and the fences around the ministry land; thus putting things in readiness to receive him. It does not appear that he became particularly entangled in the conflicts which had so long disturbed the Village, although, while the mother-church signified its readiness to approve of his ordination, and some movement was made in the Village to that end, it was found impossible to bring the hostile parties sufficiently into co-operation to allow of any thing being definitely accomplished. Fortunately for Mr. Lawson, the spirit of strife found other objects upon which to expend its energies for the time being. Some persons brought forward complaints, that the records of the parish had not been correctly kept (this was before Sergeant Thomas Putnam had been charged with that trust); that votes which had passed in "Mr. Bayley's days" and in "Mr. Burroughs's days" had not been truly recorded, or recorded at all; and that what had never been passed had been entered as votes. A great agitation arose on this subject, and many meetings were held. Some demanded that the[i.270] spurious votes should be expunged; others, that the omitted votes should be inserted. Then there was an excited disputation about the ministry lands, and the validity or sufficiency of their title to them. Joseph Houlton had given them; but he had nothing to do with raising the question, and did all he could to suppress it. Some person had discovered that William Haynes, to whom Houlton had succeeded by the right of his wife, had omitted to get his deed of purchase recorded, and the original could not be found. Disputes also arose about the use of the grounds around the meeting-house. These, added to the conflicts with the "Topsfield men," and matters not fully adjusted with the town of Salem, created and kept up a violent fermentation, in which all were miscellaneously involved. In the midst of this confusion, the matter of ordaining Mr. Lawson was put into the warrant for a meeting to be held on the 10th of December, 1686. But it was found impossible to recall the people from their divisions, and no favorable action could be had.

He was replaced in the ministry at Salem Village by someone completely different. Deodat Lawson is first mentioned in this country, according to Mr. Savage, at Martha's Vineyard in 1671. He took the freeman's oath in Boston in 1680 and continued[i.269] to live there. After a lot of negotiation and considerable pressure, he finally agreed to preach at the Village. He started his ministry in early 1684, as noted in the parish record of a meeting on February 22, 1684: "Voted that Joseph Herrick, Jonathan Putnam, and Goodman Cloyse are asked to arrange for a boat to move Mr. Lawson's things." Around this time, votes were passed to repair the parsonage and the fences around the ministry land, getting things ready for his arrival. It doesn’t seem that he got particularly caught up in the conflicts that had long troubled the Village, although the mother church expressed its willingness to support his ordination, and some action was taken in the Village towards that goal. However, it was impossible to bring the opposing parties together enough to get anything done. Luckily for Mr. Lawson, the spirit of conflict found other things to focus on for the time being. Some people raised complaints about the parish records not being kept accurately (this was before Sergeant Thomas Putnam was charged with that responsibility); they claimed that votes from "Mr. Bayley's days" and "Mr. Burroughs's days" hadn't been recorded properly, or at all, and that what had never been passed was recorded as votes. A significant uproar arose over this issue, leading to many meetings. Some insisted that the[i.270] false votes be removed, while others wanted the omitted votes to be added. Then there was a heated debate over the ministry lands, questioning the validity or adequacy of their title. Joseph Houlton had given them, but he did not initiate the dispute and did everything he could to quiet it. Someone discovered that William Haynes, from whom Houlton inherited by his wife, failed to get his purchase deed recorded, and the original could not be found. Disagreements also arose about the use of the grounds around the meeting house. All these issues, along with the tensions with the "Topsfield men" and unresolved matters with the town of Salem, created and sustained a violent unrest that involved everyone. In the midst of this chaos, the proposal to ordain Mr. Lawson was included in the agenda for a meeting scheduled for December 10, 1686. However, it was impossible to bring the people back together from their divisions, and no positive action could be taken.

At length, all attempts to settle their difficulties among themselves were abandoned; and they called for help from outside. At a legally warned meeting on the 17th of January, 1687, the inhabitants made choice of "Captain John Putnam" (he had been promoted in the military line since the affair in the meeting-house with Mr. Burroughs), "Lieutenant Jonathan Walcot, Ensign Thomas Flint, and Corporal Joseph Herrick, for to transact with Joseph Hutchinson, Job Swinnerton, Joseph Porter, and Daniel An[i.271]drew about their grievances relating to the public affairs of this place; and, if they cannot agree among themselves, that then they shall refer their differences to the Honored Major Gedney and John Hathorne, Esqs., and to the reverend elders of the Salem Church, for a full determination of those differences." Of course, it was impossible to settle the matter among themselves, and the referees were called in. William Brown, Jr., Esq., was added to them. They were all of the old town, and men of the highest consideration. Their judgment in the case is a well-drawn and interesting document, and shows the view which near neighbors took of the distractions in the village. The following passage will exhibit the purport and spirit of it:—

Eventually, all efforts to resolve their problems on their own were abandoned, and they sought help from outside. During a legally called meeting on January 17, 1687, the residents chose "Captain John Putnam" (who had been promoted in the military since the incident in the meeting house with Mr. Burroughs), "Lieutenant Jonathan Walcot, Ensign Thomas Flint, and Corporal Joseph Herrick, to negotiate with Joseph Hutchinson, Job Swinnerton, Joseph Porter, and Daniel An[i.271]drew regarding their grievances about the public affairs of this place; and, if they couldn’t come to an agreement among themselves, they would refer their differences to the Honored Major Gedney and John Hathorne, Esqs., and to the respected elders of the Salem Church for a complete resolution of those issues." Naturally, it was impossible to resolve the matter on their own, and the referees were brought in. William Brown, Jr., Esq., was added to their number. They were all from the old town and were highly regarded individuals. Their judgment on the case is a well-written and interesting document that reflects how close neighbors viewed the turmoil in the village. The following passage will illustrate its purpose and spirit:—

"Loving Brethren, Friends and Neighbors,—Upon serious consideration of, and mature deliberation upon, what hath been offered to us about your calling and transacting in order to the settling and ordaining the Rev. Mr. Deodat Lawson, and the grievances offered by some to obstruct and impede that proceeding, our sense of the matter is this,—first, that the affair of calling and transacting in order to the settling and ordaining the Reverend Mr. Lawson hath not been so inoffensively managed as might have been,—at least, not in all the parts and passages of it; second, that the grievances offered by some amongst you are not in themselves of sufficient weight to obstruct so great a work, and that they have not been improved so peaceably and orderly as Christian prudence and self-denial doth direct; third, to our grief, we observe such uncharitable expressions and uncomely reflections tossed to and fro as look like the effects[i.272] of settled prejudice and resolved animosity, though we are much rather willing to account them the product of weakness than wilfulness: however, we must needs say, that, come whence they will, they have a tendency to make such a gap as we fear, if not timely prevented, will let out peace and order, and let in confusion and every evil work."

Loving Brothers, Friends, and Neighbors,—After careful consideration and thoughtful discussion about your efforts to settle and ordain Rev. Mr. Deodat Lawson, and the concerns raised by some that might hinder this process, here's our perspective: first, the process of calling and arranging for the Reverend Mr. Lawson’s settlement hasn’t been handled as smoothly as it could have been—at least not in all aspects; second, the concerns raised by some among you aren't significant enough to halt such an important endeavor, and they haven't been addressed as peacefully and orderly as Christian wisdom and self-restraint would suggest; third, it saddens us to see uncharitable remarks and inappropriate comments exchanged, which seem like the result of deep-seated prejudice and resolved hostility, though we prefer to think they stem from weakness rather than intention. Nevertheless, we must acknowledge that, regardless of their origin, these issues could create a divide that we fear, if not addressed promptly, will disrupt peace and order and allow chaos and all kinds of wrongdoing to enter.

They then proceed to give some good advice to "prevent contention and trouble for the future, that it may not devour for ever, and that, if the Lord please, you may be happier henceforth than to make one another miserable; and not make your place uncomfortable to your present, and undesirable to any other, minister, and the ministry itself in a great measure unprofitable: and that you may not bring impositions on yourselves by convincing all about you that you cannot, or will not, use your liberty as becomes the gospel." Their advice is, "that you desist, at present, from urging the ordination of the Rev. Mr. Lawson, till your spirits are better quieted and composed." They give some judicious suggestions about various matters that had been the occasion of difficulty among them, especially to help them get their records put into good shape, and kept so for the future; and wind up in the following excellent, and in some of the clauses rather emphatic and pithy, expressions:—

They go on to offer some solid advice to "prevent conflict and trouble in the future, so it doesn't consume you forever, and that, with the Lord's help, you might be happier from now on than to make each other miserable; and to not make your situation uncomfortable for your current minister, nor unattractive to any future ministers, ultimately rendering the ministry itself largely ineffective: and so you don't put obligations on yourselves by making everyone around you think you can't, or won't, use your freedom as the gospel would intend." Their advice is, "that you hold off, for now, on pushing for the ordination of Rev. Mr. Lawson until your spirits are calmer and more settled." They provide some thoughtful suggestions about various issues that have caused them trouble, especially to help them organize their records properly and maintain that order moving forward; and they conclude with the following excellent, and in some parts rather emphatic and pointed, statements:—

"Finally, we think peace cheap, if it may be procured by complying with the aforementioned particulars, which are few, fair, and easy; and that they will hardly pass for lovers of peace, truth, ministry, and order, in the day of the Lord,[i.273] that shall so lean to their own understanding and will that they shall refuse such easy methods for the obtaining of them. And, if peace and agreement amongst you be once comfortably obtained, we advise you with all convenient speed to go on with your intended ordination; and so we shall follow our advice with our prayers. But, if our advice be rejected, we wish you better, and hearts to follow it; and only add, if you will unreasonably trouble yourselves, we pray you not any further to trouble us. We leave all to the blessing of God, the wonderful Counsellor, and your own serious consideration: praying you to read and consider the whole, and then act as God shall direct you. Farewell."

"Ultimately, we find peace to be undervalued if it can be achieved by following the simple and reasonable steps mentioned earlier. It would be hard to see them as true advocates for peace, truth, ministry, and order on the day of the Lord,[i.273] if they are so caught up in their own views that they turn down such easy paths to attain these goals. Once you've successfully achieved peace and agreement among you, we strongly encourage you to proceed promptly with your planned ordination; then we will support you with our prayers. However, if our advice is ignored, we wish you well and hope you find the courage to consider it. We simply ask that if you choose to create unnecessary turmoil for yourselves, please don’t trouble us any further. We leave everything to God’s blessing, the wonderful Counselor, and your own thoughtful reflection: we urge you to read and consider everything, and then act as God guides you. Goodbye."

[Salem, Feb. 14, 1687. Signed by the five referees,—John Higginson and Nicholas Noyes (the elders of the old church), and the three gentlemen before named.]

[Salem, Feb. 14, 1687. Signed by the five referees,—John Higginson and Nicholas Noyes (the elders of the old church), and the three gentlemen previously mentioned.]

At a meeting of the inhabitants of the Village on the 18th of February, it was voted that "we do accept of and embrace the advice of the honored and reverend gentlemen of Salem, sent to us under their hands, and order that it shall be entered on our book of records." But they took care further to vote, that they accepted it "in general, and not in parts." In accordance with the advice of the referees, they brought up, considered anew, and put to question, every entry in their past records about the genuineness and validity of which any division of opinion existed. Some entries that had been complained of and given offence as incorrect were voted out, and others were confirmed by being adopted on a new vote. A new book of records was[i.274] prepared, to conform to these decisions, which, having been submitted for examination to leading persons, appointed for the purpose at a legal meeting representing both parties, and approved by them, was adopted and sanctioned at a subsequent meeting also called for the purpose.

At a meeting of the residents of the Village on February 18th, it was voted that "we accept and embrace the advice of the respected gentlemen from Salem, sent to us under their signatures, and we order that it be documented in our records." However, they were careful to also vote that they accepted it "in general, and not in parts." Following the referees' advice, they revisited, reconsidered, and questioned every entry in their past records for which there was any disagreement. Some entries that had been criticized and found offensive as incorrect were removed, while others were confirmed by being re-adopted through a new vote. A new book of records was[i.274] prepared to align with these decisions, which, after being reviewed by key individuals chosen for the purpose at a legal meeting representing both sides, were approved and then adopted and sanctioned at another subsequent meeting called for that purpose.

In accordance with the same advice "that the old book of records be kept in being," it was ordered by the meeting to leave the votes that had, by the foregoing proceedings, been rendered null and void, to "lie in the old book of records as they are." From the new book of records we learn that "some votes are left out that passed in Mr. Bayley's days, and some that passed in Mr. Burroughs's days," particularly all the votes but one that passed at a meeting held on the fifth day of June, 1683, the very time that Mr. Burroughs was under bonds in the action of debt brought by John Putnam. The new record specifies some few, but not all, of the votes that were rescinded because it was adjudged that they had not rightfully passed, or been correctly stated. Unfortunately, the old book, after all, has not been "kept in being;" and much that would have exhibited more fully and clearly the unhappy early history of the parish is for ever lost. If the records that have been suffered to remain present the picture I have endeavored faithfully to draw, how much darker might have been its shades had we been permitted to behold what the parties concerned concurred in thinking too bad to be left to view!

Following the advice to "keep the old book of records intact," the meeting decided that the votes deemed null and void from the earlier proceedings should "remain in the old book of records as they are." From the new book of records, we find out that "some votes passed during Mr. Bayley’s time are missing, as well as some from Mr. Burroughs’s time," specifically all the votes except one from a meeting on June 5, 1683, right when Mr. Burroughs was in legal trouble due to a debt action brought by John Putnam. The new records list a few votes that were canceled because it was determined they hadn’t been properly passed or recorded. Unfortunately, the old book hasn’t truly been "kept intact," and much that could have more fully and clearly shown the unfortunate early history of the parish is forever lost. If the records that remain present the picture I’ve tried to portray accurately, how much darker might its shadows have been if we could have seen what the involved parties believed was too bad to remain visible!

The attempt to expunge records is always indefensi[i.275]ble, besides being in itself irrational and absurd. It may cover up the details of wrong and folly; but it leaves an unlimited range to the most unfriendly conjecture. We are compelled to imagine what we ought to be allowed to know; and, in many particulars, our fancies may be worse than the facts. But later times, and public bodies of greater pretensions than "the inhabitants of Salem Village," have attempted, and succeeded in perpetrating, this outrage upon history. In trying to conceal their errors, men have sometimes destroyed the means of their vindication. This may be the case with the story that is to be told of "Salem Witchcraft." It has been the case in reference to wider fields of history. The Parliamentary journals and other public records of the period of the Commonwealth and the Protectorate were suppressed by the infatuated stupidity of the Government of the Restoration. They foolishly imagined that they were hiding the shame, while they were obscuring the glory, of their country. Every Englishman, every intelligent man, now knows, that, during that very period, all that has made England great was done. The seeds of her naval and maritime prosperity were planted: and she was pushed at once by wise measures of policy, internal and external; by legislation developing her resources and invigorating the power of her people; by a decisive and comprehensive diplomacy that commanded the respect of foreign courts, and secured to her a controlling influence upon the traffic of the world; by developments of her military genius under[i.276] the greatest of all the great generals of modern times; and by naval achievements that snatched into her hands the balancing trident of the seas,—to the place she still holds (how much longer she may hold it remains to be seen) as the leading power of the world. If she has to relinquish that position, it will only be to a power that is true to the spirit, and is not ashamed of the name, of a republic. The nation that fully develops the policy which pervaded the records of the English Commonwealth will be the leader of the world. The suppression of those records has not suppressed the spirit of popular liberty, or the progress of mankind in the path of reform, freedom, equal rights, and a true civilization. It has only cast a shadow, which can never wholly be dispelled, over what otherwise would have been the brightest page in the annals of a great people. We depend for our knowledge of the steps by which England then made a most wonderful stride to prosperity and power, not upon official and authoritative records, but upon the desultory and sometimes merely gossiping memoirs of particular persons, and such other miscellaneous materials as can be picked up. The only consequence of an attempt to extinguish the memory of republicans, radicals, reformers, and regicides has been, that the history of England's true glory can never be adequately written.

The effort to erase records is always indefensible, plus it's fundamentally irrational and absurd. It might hide the specifics of wrongdoing and mistakes, but it opens the door to endless speculation. We end up imagining what we should just be allowed to know, and in many cases, our imaginations can be worse than the actual events. Later generations and more prominent groups than "the residents of Salem Village" have tried—and succeeded—in committing this crime against history. In their attempts to cover up their mistakes, people have sometimes destroyed their means of justifying those mistakes. This might be true for the story about "Salem Witchcraft." It has certainly happened in broader historical contexts. The parliamentary journals and other public records from the time of the Commonwealth and the Protectorate were suppressed by the misguided foolishness of the Restoration Government. They mistakenly thought they were hiding their shame, while they were actually obscuring their country’s greatness. Every English person, every intelligent individual, knows that during that very time, everything that made England great was accomplished. The seeds of its naval and maritime success were planted; and it was propelled forward by wise internal and external policies, legislation that developed its resources and empowered its people, and decisive diplomacy that earned respect from foreign courts and secured a dominant role in global trade; there were also military achievements under the greatest of all modern generals; and naval accomplishments that took control of the seas, leading to its current status (how much longer this will last is uncertain) as the leading power in the world. If it has to give up that position, it will only be to a power that truly embodies the spirit and is proud of the name of a republic. The nation that fully embraces the principles evident in the records of the English Commonwealth will lead the world. The suppression of those records hasn’t stifled the spirit of popular liberty or the progress of humankind toward reform, freedom, equal rights, and true civilization. It has merely cast a shadow, which can never be completely lifted, over what could have otherwise been the brightest chapter in the history of a great people. We rely on informal and sometimes gossipy accounts from individuals, and other random materials we can gather, to understand the remarkable advancements England made toward prosperity and power during that time. The attempt to erase the memory of republicans, radicals, reformers, and regicides has resulted in the fact that the true story of England's greatness can never be fully told.

The referees used the following language touching the point of the ordination of Mr. Lawson: "If more than a mere major part should not consent to it, we[i.277] should be loath to advise our brethren to proceed." This, in connection with the other sentence I have quoted from their communication recommending them "to desist at present" from urging it, was fatal to the immediate movement in his favor; and, not seeing any prospect of their "spirits becoming better quieted and composed," and weary of the attempt to bring them to any comfortable degree of unanimity, Mr. Lawson threw up his connection with them, and removed back to Boston. We shall meet him again; but it is well to despatch at this point what is to be said of his character and history.

The referees used the following language regarding Mr. Lawson's ordination: "If more than just a majority does not agree, we[i.277] would hesitate to advise our colleagues to move forward." This, along with the other statement I quoted from their communication suggesting they "stop for now" from pushing the issue, put an end to the immediate push in his favor. Not seeing any chance of their "spirits calming down and settling," and tired of trying to achieve any reasonable level of agreement, Mr. Lawson ended his association with them and moved back to Boston. We'll see him again, but it's best to cover his character and history at this point.

It is evident that Deodat Lawson had received the best education of his day. It is not easy to account for his not having left a more distinguished mark in Old or New England. He had much learning and great talents. Of his power in getting up pulpit performances in the highest style of eloquence, of which that period afforded remarkable specimens, I shall have occasion to speak. Among his other attainments, he was, what cannot be said of learned and professional men generally now any more than then, an admirable penman. The village parish adopted the practice at the beginning, when paying the salaries of its ministers from time to time, instead of taking receipts on detached and loose pieces of paper, of having them write them out in their own hand on the pages of the record-book, with their signatures. It is a luxury, in looking over the old volume, to come upon the receipts of Deodat Lawson, in his plain, round hand.[i.278] A specimen is given among the autographs. His chirography is easy, free, graceful, clear, and clean. It unites with wonderful taste the highest degrees of simplicity and ornament. Each style is used, and both are blended, as occasion required. During his ministry, the trouble about the old record-book occurred. The first four pages of the new book are in his handwriting. The ink has somewhat faded; the paper has become discolored, and, around the margins and at the bottom of the leaves, lamentably worn and broken. The first page exhibits Lawson's penmanship in its various styles. It is artistically executed in several sizes of letters, appropriate to the position of the clauses and the import and weight of the matter. In each there is an elegant combination of ornament and simplicity. His chirography was often had in requisition; and papers, evidently from his pen, are on file in various cases, occurring in court at the time, in which his friends were interested.

It's clear that Deodat Lawson received the best education of his time. It's hard to understand why he didn't leave a more significant impact in either Old or New England. He was highly knowledgeable and very talented. I'll have the opportunity to discuss his impressive skills in delivering sermons with outstanding eloquence, something that period had remarkable examples of. Among his other skills, which can't be said of most scholars or professionals today or back then, he was an excellent penman. The village parish started a practice early on where, instead of taking receipts on random scraps of paper when paying their ministers' salaries, they would have them write the receipts in their own handwriting in the record book, along with their signatures. It's a pleasure to find Deodat Lawson’s receipts in the old volume, written in his simple, round handwriting.[i.278] A sample can be found among the autographs. His handwriting is easy, fluid, elegant, clear, and neat. It beautifully combines simplicity with decorative elements. Both styles are employed and blended as needed. During his ministry, issues arose with the old record book. The first four pages of the new book are written in his handwriting. The ink has faded somewhat; the paper has discolored, and the edges and bottoms of the pages have sadly worn and torn. The first page showcases Lawson’s penmanship in various styles. It’s artistically done in different letter sizes, fitting for the structure and importance of the text. Each style features a lovely mix of decoration and simplicity. His handwriting was frequently called upon; papers, definitely in his handwriting, are filed in various cases presented in court at the time, particularly involving his friends.

The first four ministers of the village parish were excellent penmen. Bayley's hand is more like the modern style than the rest. Burroughs's is as legible as print, uniform in its character, open and upright. The specimen among the autographs is from the record referred to at the top of page 262. As it was written at the bottom of a page in the record-book, where there was hardly sufficient room, it had to be in a slanting line. I give it just as it there appears. Parris wrote three different hands, all perfectly easy to read. The larger kind was used when signing his[i.281] name to important papers, or in brief entries of record. The specimen I give is from a receipt in the parish-book, which Thomas Putnam, as clerk, made oath in court, that Parris wrote and signed in his presence. His notes of examinations of persons charged with witchcraft by the committing magistrate, many of which are preserved, are in his smallest hand, very minute, but always legible. In his church-records he uses sometimes a medium hand, and sometimes the smallest. The autographs of Townsend Bishop and Thomas Putnam show the handwriting that seems to have prevailed among well-educated people in England at the time of the first settlement of this country. There was often a profusion of flourishes that obscured the letters. The initial capitals were quite complicated and very curious. The signature of Thomas Putnam, Jr., exhibits his excellent handwriting.

The first four ministers of the village parish were excellent writers. Bayley's handwriting resembles a more modern style compared to the others. Burroughs's writing is as clear as print, consistent in its form, and neatly upright. The example among the autographs is from the record mentioned at the top of page 262. Since it was written at the bottom of a page in the record book, where there was barely enough space, it had to be slanted. I present it just as it appears. Parris had three different handwriting styles, all very easy to read. He used a larger style for signing his[i.281] name on important documents or for brief record entries. The example I'm providing comes from a receipt in the parish book, which Thomas Putnam, as clerk, swore in court was written and signed by Parris in his presence. His notes from the examinations of people accused of witchcraft by the committing magistrate, many of which are preserved, are in his smallest handwriting, very tiny but always legible. In his church records, he occasionally used a medium handwriting and sometimes the smallest. The autographs of Townsend Bishop and Thomas Putnam showcase the handwriting style that seemed to be common among well-educated people in England during the time of the first settlement of this country. There was often an abundance of flourishes that made the letters hard to read. The initial capital letters were quite intricate and interesting. The signature of Thomas Putnam, Jr., shows off his excellent handwriting.

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I have adduced these facts and given these illustrations to show, that, in this branch of education,—the value and desirableness of which cannot be overrated,—it is at least an open question, whether we have much ground to boast of being in advance of the first generations of our ancestors in America. The early ministers of the Salem Village parish certainly compare, in this particular, favorably with ministers and professional men, and recording officers generally in public bodies of all kinds, in later times.

I have presented these facts and provided these examples to demonstrate that, in this area of education—which is invaluable and highly desirable—it’s still up for debate whether we truly have more to brag about than the first generations of our ancestors in America. The early ministers of the Salem Village parish certainly stand up well in this respect compared to ministers, professionals, and public officials in various organizations from later times.

Sergeant Thomas Putnam did not act as clerk of the parish from April, 1687, to April, 1694. A few entries are made by his hand; but the record, very[i.282] meagre and fragmentary, is for the most part made by others. This is much to be regretted, as the interval covers the very period of our history. His time, probably, was taken up, and his mind wholly engrossed, by an unhappy family difficulty, in which, during that period, he was involved. Thomas Putnam Sr. died, as has been stated, in 1686. It was thought, by the children of his first wife, that the influence of the second wife had been unduly exercised over him, in his last years, so as to induce him to make a will giving to her, and her only child by him, Joseph, a very unfair proportion of his estate. It was felt by them to be so unjust that they attempted to break the will. The management of the case was confided to Sergeant Thomas Putnam, as the eldest son of the family; and the affair, it may be supposed, absorbed his thoughts to such a degree as to render it necessary for him to abandon his services as clerk of the parish. The attempt to set aside the will failed. The circumstances connected with the subject disturbed very seriously—perhaps permanently—the happiness of the whole family, and may have contributed to create the morbid excitement which afterwards was so fearfully displayed by the wife of the younger Thomas.

Sergeant Thomas Putnam didn't serve as the parish clerk from April 1687 to April 1694. He made a few entries, but the record is mostly incomplete and primarily made by others. This is unfortunate because this time frame covers a crucial part of our history. He was probably preoccupied and completely absorbed by a difficult family issue during that time. Thomas Putnam Sr. passed away in 1686. His first wife's children believed that their father’s second wife had unreasonably influenced him in his later years, leading him to create a will that left her and their only child, Joseph, an unfair share of his estate. They found this so unjust that they tried to contest the will. The management of the case was entrusted to Sergeant Thomas Putnam, as the eldest son, and it likely occupied his thoughts so much that he had to stop his duties as parish clerk. The effort to overturn the will was unsuccessful. The issues surrounding this matter seriously affected—perhaps permanently—the happiness of the entire family and may have contributed to the intense emotional distress displayed later by the younger Thomas’s wife.

While Mr. Lawson was at the village, he lost his wife and daughter. In 1690, he was again married, to Deborah Allen. He was settled afterwards over the Second Society in Scituate,—it is singular that our local histories do not tell us when, but that we get all we know on the point from a sentence written by the[i.283] pen on a leaf of one of the two folio volumes of John Quick's "Synodicon in Gallia Reformata," in the possession of a gentleman in this country, Henry M. Dexter, who says it is evidently Quick's autograph. It is in these words: "For my reverend and dear brother, Mr. Lawson, minister of the gospel, and pastor of the church of Scituate, in the province of Massachusetts in New England; from the publisher, John Quick, honoris et amoris ergo, Aug. 6, 1693." In 1696, Mr. Lawson went over to England, merely for a short visit, as his people supposed. They heard from him no more. He never asked a dismission, or communicated with them in any way. In 1698, an ecclesiastical council declared them free to settle another minister, which they did in due time. He was, no doubt, alive and in London when, in 1704, his famous Salem Village sermon was reprinted there. But this is the last glimpse we have of him. An inscrutable mystery covers the rest of his history. His manner of leaving the Scituate parish shows him to have been an eccentric person, leaves an unfavorable impression of his character, and is as inexplicable as the only other reference to him that has thus far been found. Calamy, in his "Continuation of the Account of Ejected Ministers," published in 1727, has a notice of Thomas Lawson, whom he describes as minister of Denton in the county of Norfolk, educated at Katherine Hall in Cambridge, and afterwards chosen "to a fellowship in St. John's. He was a man of parts, but had no good utterance. He was the[i.284] father of the unhappy Mr. Deodat Lawson, who came hither from New England." With all his abilities, learning, and eloquence, he disappears, after the re-publication of his Salem Village sermon in London, in the dark, impenetrable cloud of this expression, "the unhappy Mr. Deodat Lawson." Of the melancholy fate implied in the language of Calamy, I have not been able to obtain the slightest information.

While Mr. Lawson was in the village, he lost his wife and daughter. In 1690, he remarried, this time to Deborah Allen. He later became the pastor of the Second Society in Scituate—it's strange that our local histories don't say when this happened; instead, we get all our information from a note written by the[i.283] pen on a page of one of the two folio volumes of John Quick's "Synodicon in Gallia Reformata," which belongs to a gentleman in this country, Henry M. Dexter, who claims it's clearly Quick's autograph. The note reads: "For my reverend and dear brother, Mr. Lawson, minister of the gospel, and pastor of the church of Scituate, in the province of Massachusetts in New England; from the publisher, John Quick, honoris et amoris ergo, Aug. 6, 1693." In 1696, Mr. Lawson traveled to England for what was supposed to be a short visit, but his congregation never heard from him again. He never asked for a dismissal or reached out to them in any way. In 1698, an ecclesiastical council declared them free to find another minister, which they did in due time. He was likely still alive and in London when, in 1704, his famous Salem Village sermon was reprinted there. But this is the last we know of him. An inexplicable mystery surrounds the rest of his life. His way of leaving the Scituate parish suggests he was an eccentric person and leaves an unfavorable impression of his character, which is just as puzzling as the only other reference to him that has been found so far. Calamy, in his "Continuation of the Account of Ejected Ministers," published in 1727, mentions Thomas Lawson, whom he describes as the minister of Denton in Norfolk county, educated at Katherine Hall in Cambridge, and later chosen "for a fellowship at St. John's. He was a capable man but had poor speaking skills. He was the[i.284] father of the unfortunate Mr. Deodat Lawson, who came here from New England." Despite all his talents, knowledge, and eloquence, he vanishes, after the re-publication of his Salem Village sermon in London, into the dark, impenetrable cloud of the phrase "the unfortunate Mr. Deodat Lawson." I have not been able to find any information regarding the sad fate hinted at in Calamy's words.

The troubles that covered the whole period, since the beginning of Mr. Bayley's ministry, had led to the neglect and derangement of the entire organization of the Village, and resulted in the loss of what little opportunities for education might otherwise have been provided. So great was this evil regarded, that the old town felt it necessary to interpose; and we find it voted Jan. 24, 1682, that "Lieutenant John Putnam is desired, and is hereby empowered, to take care that the law relating to the catechising of children and youth be duly attended at the Village." He is also "desired to have a diligent care that all the families do carefully and constantly attend the due education of their children and youth according to law." We cannot but feel that the man who was ready to fight the "Topsfield men" in the woods—who, when they asked him, "What, by violence?" answered, with axe in hand, "Ay, by violence," and who figured in the manner described in the scene with Mr. Burroughs—was a singular person to intrust with the charge of "catechising the children and youth." But those were queer times, and he was a queer character. He[i.285] had always been a church-member; and, to the day of his death, church and prayer meetings were more frequently held at his house than in any other. He was a rough man, but he was no hypocrite. He was in the front of every encounter; but he was tolerant, too, of difference of opinion. When, at one time, the contests of the Village were at their height, and two committees were raised representing the two conflicting parties, he was at the head of one, and his eldest son (Jonathan) of the other. Their opposition does not seem to have alienated them. While I have found it necessary to hold him up, in some of his actions, for condemnation, there were many good points about him; although he was not the sort of man that would be likely, in our times, to be selected to execute the functions of a Sunday-school teacher.

The problems that plagued the entire period since Mr. Bayley's ministry led to the neglect and disarray of the Village’s organization, resulting in the loss of any educational opportunities that might have otherwise existed. This issue was seen as so serious that the old town felt it had to step in; on January 24, 1682, it was decided that "Lieutenant John Putnam is requested, and is hereby empowered, to ensure that the law concerning the catechizing of children and youth is properly enforced in the Village." He is also "requested to diligently ensure that all families carefully and consistently attend to the proper education of their children and youth according to the law." One can't help but think that a man willing to confront the "Topsfield men" in the woods—who, when asked, "What, by violence?" replied, axe in hand, "Yes, by violence," and who was involved in the incident with Mr. Burroughs—was an unusual choice to be in charge of "catechizing the children and youth." But these were strange times, and he was a strange character. He had always been a church member; and until his death, church and prayer meetings happened more often at his house than anywhere else. He was a rough man, but he wasn't a hypocrite. He led the charge in every conflict, yet he was also tolerant of differing opinions. At one point, when the Village’s disputes were at their peak and two committees were formed to represent the opposing sides, he headed one while his oldest son (Jonathan) led the other. Their rivalry didn’t seem to drive a wedge between them. While I have found it necessary to criticize some of his actions, he had many good qualities, although he wouldn’t likely be the type of person chosen today to serve as a Sunday school teacher.

During all this period, there was a variety of minor controversies among themselves, causing greater or less disturbance. Joseph Hutchinson, who had given a site out of his homestead-grounds for the meeting-house, had no patience with their perpetual wranglings. He fenced up his lands around the meeting-house lot, leaving them an entrance on the end towards the road. They went to court about it, and he was called to account by the usual process of law. The plain, gruff old farmer, who seems all along to have been a man of strong sense and decided character, filed an answer, which is unsurpassed for bluntness of expression. It has no language of ceremony, but goes to the point at once. It has a general inter[i.286]est as showing, to how late a period the inhabitants of this neighborhood were exposed to Indian attacks, and what means of defence were resorted to by the Village worshippers. The document manifests the contempt in which he held the complainants, and it was all the satisfaction they got.

During this time, there were various minor disputes among the people, creating more or less disruption. Joseph Hutchinson, who had given part of his land for the meeting house, couldn't stand their constant bickering. He fenced off his property around the meeting house lot, leaving them an entrance at the end facing the road. They took him to court over it, and he was held accountable through the usual legal process. The straightforward, tough old farmer, who always seemed to be a person of common sense and strong character, filed a response that was exceptionally blunt. It had no formal language and got straight to the point. It serves as a general reminder of how long the residents in this area were vulnerable to Indian attacks and what defensive measures the Village worshippers resorted to. The document shows the disdain he had for the complainants, and that was all the satisfaction they received.

"Joseph Hutchinson his answer is as followeth:—

"Joseph Hutchinson's answer is as follows:—

"First, as to the covenant they spoke of, I conceive it is neither known of by me nor them, as will appear by records from the farmer's book.

"First, regarding the agreement they mentioned, I believe it is not known to me or them, as will be shown by records from the farmer's book."

"Second, I conceive they have no cause to complain of me for fencing in my own land; for I am sure I fenced in none of theirs. I wish they would not pull down my fences. I am loath to complain, though I have just cause.

"Second, I don’t think they have any reason to complain about me for putting up fences on my own property; I know I haven’t enclosed any of theirs. I really wish they would stop taking down my fences. I hate to complain, even though I have a good reason to."

"Third, for blocking up the meeting-house, it was they did it, and not I, in the time of the Indian wars; and they made Salem pay for it. I wish they would bring me my rocks they took to do it with; for I want them to make fence with.

"Third, it was them who blocked the meeting house during the Indian wars, not me, and they made Salem pay for it. I wish they'd return the rocks they took to do it because I need them for building a fence."

"Thus, hoping this honored Court will see that there was no just cause to complain against me, and their cause will appear unjust in that they would in an unjust way take away my land, I trust I shall have relief; so I rest, your Honor's servant,

"Therefore, I hope this respected Court understands that there was no valid reason to complain about me, and that their claims will seem unfair since they unjustly seek to take my land. I trust I will receive relief; so I remain, your Honor's servant,"

Joseph Hutchinson."

Joseph Hutchinson.

[Nov. 27, 1686.]

[Nov. 27, 1686.]

The next minister of Salem Village brought matters to a crisis. Samuel Parris is stated to have been a son of Thomas Parris, of London, and was born in 1653. He was, for a time, a member of Harvard College, but did not finish the academic course, being[i.287] drawn to a commercial life. He was engaged in the West-India business, and probably lived at Barbadoes. After a while, he abandoned commerce, and prepared himself for the ministry. There was at this time, and long subsequently, a very particular mercantile connection between Salem and Barbadoes. The former husband of the wife of Thomas Putnam, Sr.,—Nathaniel Veren,—as has been stated, had property in that island, and was more or less acquainted with its people. Perhaps it was through this channel that the thoughts of the people of the Village were turned towards Mr. Parris. From a deposition made by him a few years afterwards in a suit at law between him and his parishioners, we learn some interesting facts relating to the negotiations that led to his settlement.

The next minister of Salem Village brought things to a head. Samuel Parris was said to be the son of Thomas Parris from London, and he was born in 1653. He attended Harvard College for a time but didn’t complete his studies, being[i.287] drawn to a business career. He was involved in the West Indies trade and probably lived in Barbados. Eventually, he left commerce and prepared for the ministry. At that time, and for a long while afterward, there was a strong commercial connection between Salem and Barbados. The former husband of Thomas Putnam, Sr.’s wife—Nathaniel Veren—had property on the island and was somewhat familiar with its people. Perhaps it was through this connection that the thoughts of the Village people turned to Mr. Parris. From a deposition he made a few years later in a legal case against his parishioners, we learn some interesting details about the negotiations that led to his appointment.

It appears from his statement that a committee, consisting of "Captain John Putnam, Mr. Joshua Rea, Sr., and Francis Nurse," was appointed, on the 15th of November, 1688, to treat with him "about taking ministerial office." On the 25th of November, "after the services in the afternoon, the audience was stayed, and, by a general vote, requested Mr. Parris to take office." He hung back for a while, and exercised the skill and adroitness acquired in his mercantile life in making as sharp a bargain as he could.

It seems from his statement that a committee made up of "Captain John Putnam, Mr. Joshua Rea, Sr., and Francis Nurse" was formed on November 15, 1688, to discuss with him "about taking the ministerial position." On November 25, "after the afternoon services, the audience was paused, and, by a general vote, asked Mr. Parris to accept the position." He hesitated for a bit and used the skills and cleverness he gained from his business life to negotiate the best deal he could.

At that time, there appeared to be a degree of harmony among the people, such as they had never known before. There was a disposition on all sides to come together, and avail themselves of the occasion of[i.288] settling a new minister, to bury their past animosities, and forget their grievances; and there is every reason to believe, if Mr. Parris had promptly closed with their terms, he might have enjoyed a peaceful ministry, and a happy oblivion have covered for ever his name and the history of the village. But he withheld response to the call. The people were impatient, and felt that the golden opportunity might be lost, and the old feuds revive. On the 10th of December, another committee was raised, consisting of Lieutenant Nathaniel Putnam, Sergeant Fuller, Mr. Joshua Rea, Sr., and Sergeant Ingersoll, as "messengers, to know whether Mr. Parris would accept of office." His answer was, "the work was weighty; they should know in due time." They were thus kept in suspense during the whole winter, getting no reply from him. On the 29th of April, 1689, "Deacons Nathaniel Ingersoll and Edward Putnam, Daniel Rea, Thomas Fuller, Jr., and John Tarbell, came to Mr. Parris from the meeting-house," where there had been a general meeting of the inhabitants, and said, "Being the aged men had had the matter of Mr. Parris's settlement so long in hand, and effected nothing, they were desirous to try what the younger could do." Deacon Ingersoll was about fifty-five years of age; but his spirit and character kept him in sympathy with the progressive impulses of younger men. Deacon Putnam was thirty-four years of age. Daniel Rea was the son of Joshua; Thomas Fuller, Jr., the son of Sergeant Fuller; and John Tarbell, the son-in-law of Francis Nurse.[i.289]

At that time, there seemed to be a sense of unity among the people that they had never experienced before. Everyone was willing to come together and use the opportunity of settling a new minister to put their past conflicts behind them and forget their grievances. There’s every reason to believe that if Mr. Parris had quickly accepted their terms, he could have had a peaceful ministry, and his name and the village's history could have faded into happy forgetfulness. But he didn’t respond to the call. The people were impatient, feeling that this golden opportunity might slip away and old feuds might resurface. On December 10th, another committee was formed, made up of Lieutenant Nathaniel Putnam, Sergeant Fuller, Mr. Joshua Rea, Sr., and Sergeant Ingersoll, as "messengers to see if Mr. Parris would accept the position." His reply was, "the work is important; they would know in due time." So, they were left in suspense all winter without any answer from him. On April 29, 1689, "Deacons Nathaniel Ingersoll and Edward Putnam, Daniel Rea, Thomas Fuller, Jr., and John Tarbell came to Mr. Parris from the meeting-house," where there had been a general meeting of the townspeople, and said, "Since the older men had been handling Mr. Parris’s settlement for so long without success, they wanted to see what the younger ones could accomplish." Deacon Ingersoll was about fifty-five years old, but his spirit and character kept him in touch with the ambitions of younger men. Deacon Putnam was thirty-four. Daniel Rea was Joshua’s son; Thomas Fuller, Jr., was Sergeant Fuller’s son; and John Tarbell was the son-in-law of Francis Nurse.[i.289]

This is the first appearance, I believe, in our history, of that notorious and most pretentious personage who has figured so largely in all our affairs ever since, "Young America." The sequel shows, that, in this instance at least, no benefit arose from discarding the caution and experience of years. The "younger men" were determined to "go ahead." They said they were desirous of a speedy answer. Finding them in a temper to "finish the thing up," at any rate, and seeing that they were ambitious to get the credit of "effecting something," and, for that end, predisposed to come to his terms, he disclosed them. They had offered him a salary of sixty pounds per annum,—one third in money, the rest in provisions, at certain specified rates. He agreed to accept the call on the foregoing terms, with certain additional conditions thus described by himself: "First, when money shall be more plenteous, the money part to be paid me shall accordingly be increased. Second, though corn or like provisions should arise to a higher price than you have set, yet, for my own family use, I shall have what is needful at the price now stated, and so if it fall lower. Third, the whole sixty pounds to be only from our inhabitants that are dwelling in our bounds, proportionable to what lands they have within the same. Fourth, no provision to be brought in without first asking whether needed, and myself to make choice of what, unless the person is unable to pay in any sort but one. Fifth, firewood to be given in yearly, freely. Sixth, two men to be chosen yearly to see that due payments be made.[i.290] Seventh, contributions each sabbath in papers; and only such as are in papers, and dwelling within our bounds, to be accounted a part of the sixty pounds. Eighth, as God shall please to bless the place so as to be able to rise higher than the sixty pounds, that then a proportionable increase be made. If God shall please, for our sins, to diminish the substance of said place, I will endeavor accordingly to bear such losses, by proportionable abatements of such as shall reasonably desire it."

This is the first time, I believe, in our history, that we’ve seen that infamous and overly self-important figure who has been a major player in all our affairs ever since, "Young America." The follow-up shows that, at least in this case, no advantages came from ignoring the caution and wisdom of experience. The "younger men" were set on "moving forward." They expressed a desire for a quick response. Seeing that they were eager to "wrap things up," and wanting to gain recognition for "achieving something," they were inclined to accept his terms. He laid them out. They had offered him a salary of sixty pounds a year—one-third in cash, with the rest in supplies at specified rates. He agreed to take the position under those terms, along with some additional conditions he outlined: "First, when money becomes more abundant, my cash payment will be increased accordingly. Second, if the price of corn or similar provisions goes higher than what you have set, I should still receive what I need for my family at the currently stated price, and the same if it falls lower. Third, the total sixty pounds will only come from residents living in our area, based on the amount of land they own there. Fourth, no supplies should be brought in without first confirming whether they are needed, and I should be able to choose what I want, unless the person can only pay in one way. Fifth, firewood should be provided free of charge each year. Sixth, two men should be designated each year to ensure that payments are made correctly. [i.290] Seventh, contributions should be collected every Sunday in papers; only those who contribute in papers and live within our area will count towards the sixty pounds. Eighth, as God blesses the place to be able to surpass the sixty pounds, a proportional increase should be made. If God sees fit, due to our sins, to reduce the resources of that place, I will do my best to accommodate such losses with proportionate reductions for those who reasonably request it."

A contribution-box was either handed around by the deacons, before the congregation was dismissed, or attached permanently near the porch or door. Rate-payers would inclose their money in papers, with their names, and drop them in. When the box was opened, the sums inclosed would be entered to their credit on the rate-schedule. There was always a considerable number of stated worshippers in the congregation who lived without the bounds of the village, and often transient visitors or strangers happened to be at meeting. It was a point that had not been determined, whether moneys collected from the above descriptions of persons should go into the general treasury of the parish, to be used in meeting their contract to pay the minister's salary, or be kept as a separate surplus.

A contribution box was either passed around by the deacons before the congregation was dismissed or permanently placed near the porch or door. Rate-payers would put their money in envelopes with their names and drop them in. When the box was opened, the amounts inside would be credited to their accounts on the rate schedule. There was always a significant number of regular worshippers in the congregation who lived outside the village, and there were often transient visitors or strangers at the service. It was still undecided whether the money collected from these individuals should go into the general treasury of the parish to help pay the minister's salary, or if it should be kept as a separate surplus.

The terms, as thus described by Mr. Parris, show that he had profited by his experience in trade, and knew how to make a shrewd bargain. It was quite certain that a farming community in a new country, with fields continually reclaimed from the wilderness and[i.291] added to culture, would increase in substance: if so, his annual stipend would increase. If the place should decline, he was to abate the tax of individuals, if desired by them personally, so far as he should judge their petition to that effect reasonable. If "strangers' money," or contributions from "outsiders," were not to go to make up his sixty pounds, it was quite probable that it would come into his pocket as an extra allowance, or perquisite.

The terms, as described by Mr. Parris, show that he had gained valuable experience in trade and knew how to negotiate a good deal. It was clear that a farming community in a new country, with fields consistently reclaimed from the wilderness and[i.291] cultivated, would grow in wealth: if that happened, his annual salary would increase. If the area started to decline, he would reduce the tax for individuals, if they personally requested it, based on how reasonable he felt their request was. If "strangers' money," or contributions from "outsiders," weren’t used to cover his sixty pounds, it was likely that it would end up in his pocket as an extra payment or perk.

He says that the committee accepted these terms, and agreed to them, expressing their belief that the people also would. No record appears on the parish-books of the appointment of this committee of the "younger men," or of the action of the society on their report, or of any report having been made at that time. In the mean while, Mr. Parris continued to preach and act as the minister of the society until his ordination, near the close of the year. There was a meeting on the 21st of May; but the record consists of but a single entry,—the appointment of a committee "as overseers for the year ensuing, to take care of our meeting-house and other public charges, and to make return according to law." The next entry is of a general meeting of the inhabitants, on the 18th of June, 1689. The choice of the regular standing committee for the year is recorded. Immediately following this entry, are these words:—

He says that the committee accepted these terms and agreed to them, believing that the people would too. No record shows the appointment of this committee of the "younger men," or the society's response to their report, or any report made at that time. Meanwhile, Mr. Parris continued to preach and serve as the minister of the society until his ordination near the end of the year. There was a meeting on May 21st, but the record includes just a single entry—appointing a committee "as overseers for the coming year, to take care of our meeting-house and other public expenses, and to report as required by law." The next entry is from a general meeting of the residents on June 18th, 1689, where the regular standing committee for the year was chosen. Immediately following this entry are these words:—

"At the same meeting,—the 18th of June, 1689,—it was agreed and voted by general concurrence, that, for Mr. Parris, his encouragement and settlement in the work of the[i.292] ministry amongst us, we will give him sixty six pounds for his yearly salary,—one-third paid in money, the other two-third parts for provisions, &c.; and Mr. Parris to find himself firewood, and Mr. Parris to keep the ministry-house in good repair; and that Mr. Parris shall also have the use of the ministry-pasture, and the inhabitants to keep the fence in repair; and that we will keep up our contributions, and our inhabitants to put their money in papers, and this to continue so long as Mr. Parris continues in the work of the ministry amongst us, and all productions to be good and merchantable. And, if it please God to bless the inhabitants, we shall be willing to give more; and to expect, that if God shall diminish the estates of the people, that then Mr. Parris do abate of his salary according to proportion."

"At the same meeting—June 18, 1689—it was agreed and voted by everyone that to support Mr. Parris in his work in the ministry among us, we will give him sixty-six pounds for his annual salary—one-third paid in cash, the other two-thirds in provisions, etc. Mr. Parris will also need to provide his own firewood and keep the ministry house in good condition. Additionally, Mr. Parris will have access to the ministry pasture, and the residents will be responsible for maintaining the fence. We will continue our contributions, and the residents will deposit their money in papers, and this will go on as long as Mr. Parris is in the ministry among us, with all products to be of good quality and marketable. If God blesses the residents, we would be willing to raise the amount; however, if God reduces the means of the people, then Mr. Parris should reduce his salary proportionally."

Comparing this record with the account given by Mr. Parris of the eight conditions upon which he agreed, in conference with the committee of the "younger" sort, on the 29th of April, to accept the call of the parish, the difference is not very essential. The matter of firewood was arranged, according to his account, by mutual agreement, they to add six pounds to his salary, and he to find his own wood. The rates of "the inhabitants" were to be paid "in papers." The only point of difference, touching this matter, is that the record is silent about contributions by outsiders and strangers; whereas he says it was agreed, on the 29th of April, that they should not go towards making up his salary. The idea of his salary rising with the growth and sinking with the decline of the society is expressed in the record[i.293] substantially as it is by him, only it is made exact; and, in case of a decline in the means of the people, a corresponding decline is to be in the aggregate of his salary, and not by abatements made by him in individual cases. The variations are nearly, if not quite, all unimportant in their nature, and such as a regard to mutual convenience would suggest. Yet there was something in the above record which highly exasperated Mr. Parris.

Comparing this record with the account given by Mr. Parris about the eight conditions he agreed to during a meeting with the committee of the "younger" group on April 29th to accept the parish's offer, the differences aren't significant. According to him, the firewood situation was settled by mutual agreement—he would get an extra six pounds added to his salary, and he would supply his own wood. The rates from "the inhabitants" were to be paid "in papers." The only notable difference regarding this issue is that the record doesn’t mention contributions from outsiders and strangers; however, he claims it was agreed on April 29th that these contributions wouldn’t count towards his salary. The notion that his salary would increase with the growth and decrease with the decline of the community is stated in the record much like he described, but it's more precise. If the community's financial situation worsens, his salary will reduce accordingly, rather than expecting individual reductions from him. The discrepancies are mostly minor, driven by mutual convenience. Still, there was something in the above record that deeply frustrated Mr. Parris.

In his deposition he states, that, at a meeting held on the 17th of May, of which there is no record in the parish book, he was sent for and was present. He says that there was "much agitation" at the meeting. He says that objection was made by the people to two of his "eight" conditions, the fifth and seventh. But there is nothing in the record of the 18th of June in conflict with what he says was finally agreed upon, except the disposition that should be made of "strangers' money." The question then recurs, What was the cause of the "much agitation" at that meeting? What was it in the language of that record which always so excited Mr. Parris's wrath?

In his deposition, he states that during a meeting on May 17th, which isn't documented in the parish book, he was summoned and attended. He mentions that there was "a lot of tension" at the meeting. He reports that the people raised objections to two of his "eight" conditions, specifically the fifth and seventh. However, there's nothing in the record from June 18th that contradicts what he claims was ultimately agreed upon, except for how "strangers' money" should be handled. This brings us back to the question: What caused the "a lot of tension" at that meeting? What was it in the wording of that record that consistently triggered Mr. Parris's anger?

I am inclined to think that the offensive words were those which require "Mr. Parris to keep the ministry house in good repair," and that he "shall also have the use of the ministry pasture;" and this was not objectionable as involving any expense upon him, but solely because the language employed precluded the supposition that the parish had countenanced the idea of ever conveying the parsonage and parsonage lands[i.294] to him in his own right and absolutely. This was an object which he evidently had in view from the first, and to which he clung to the last. It is to be feared, that some of the members of the "Young-America" committee, in their heedless and inconsiderate eagerness to "effect" something, to settle Mr. Parris forthwith, and thereby prove how much more competent they were than "the aged men" to transact a weighty business, had encouraged Mr. Parris to think that his favorite object could be accomplished. Upon a little inquiry, however, they discovered that it could not be done; but that the house and land were secured by the original deeds of conveyance, and by irreversible agreements and conditions, to the use of the ministry, for the time being and for ever. So far as the committee or any of its members had favored this idea in their conference with Mr. Parris, they had taken a position from which they had to retreat. They had compromised themselves and the parish. For this reason, perhaps, they made no report; and no mention of their agency appears on the records. How far Deacon Ingersoll was misled by his younger associates on this occasion, I know not; but he was not a man to break a promise if he could keep it, no matter how much to his own loss. He recognized his responsibility as chairman of the unfortunate committee, and retrieved the mistake they had made, by giving to Mr. Parris, by deed, a lot of land adjoining the parsonage property, and in value equal to the whole of it. The date of that conveyance, immediately after Mr. Parris's ordination, corroborates[i.295] the conjecture that it was made to compensate Mr. Parris for the failure of his expectation to get possession of the ministry property. It ought to have been received by him as an equivalent, and have soothed his angry disappointment; but it did not. He had indulged the belief, that he had effected a bargain with the parish, at his settlement, which had made him the owner, in fee simple, of the parish property; and when he found that the record of the terms of his settlement, in the parish-book, absolutely precluded that idea, his exasperation was great, and no reparation Deacon Ingersoll or any one else could make was suffered to appease it. The following deposition, made in court some years afterwards, gives an account of a scene in the meeting-house after Parris's ordination:—

I think the offensive words were those stating that "Mr. Parris has to keep the ministry house in good repair" and that he "will also have the use of the ministry pasture." This wasn't objectionable because it involved any cost to him, but solely because the wording used made it clear that the parish had never considered giving the parsonage and its land[i.294] to him outright and completely. This was something he obviously aimed for from the beginning and clung to until the end. Unfortunately, some members of the "Young-America" committee, in their careless and thoughtless eagerness to "do" something, to settle Mr. Parris immediately, and prove how much more capable they were than the "older men" at handling significant matters, had led Mr. Parris to believe that he could achieve his desired goal. However, after a little investigation, they found out that it wasn't possible; the house and land were secured by the original deeds and by unchangeable agreements and conditions for the ministry's use, now and forever. To the extent that the committee or any of its members had supported this idea during their discussions with Mr. Parris, they had taken a stance from which they had to backtrack. They had compromised themselves and the parish. Perhaps that's why they didn't make a report; their involvement isn’t mentioned in the records. I don’t know how misled Deacon Ingersoll was by his younger colleagues in this instance, but he was not someone to break a promise if he could help it, no matter how much it cost him. He acknowledged his responsibilities as chair of the unfortunate committee and corrected their mistake by giving Mr. Parris, through a deed, a parcel of land next to the parsonage property, valued equally to the entire property. The date of that transfer, shortly after Mr. Parris’s ordination, supports[i.295] the idea that it was meant to compensate Mr. Parris for the loss of his expectation to gain possession of the ministry property. He should have received it as a fair equivalent to ease his upset; however, it did not. He had convinced himself that he had struck a deal with the parish at his settlement that made him the outright owner of the parish property. When he discovered that the official record of his settlement terms in the parish book completely ruled out that idea, he was extremely frustrated, and no compensation Deacon Ingersoll or anyone else could offer him was able to calm his anger. The following deposition, made in court a few years later, recounts a scene in the meeting house after Parris’s ordination:—

"Ipswich Court, 1697.—Parris versus Inhabitants of Salem Village.

"Ipswich Courthouse, 1697.—Parris versus Inhabitants of Salem Village."

"We the undersigned testify and say, that, a considerable time after Mr. Parris his ordination, there was a meeting of the inhabitants of Salem Village at the usual place of meeting; and the occasion of the meeting was concerning Mr. Parris, and several persons were at that meeting, that had not, before this meeting, joined with the people in calling or agreeing with Mr. Parris; and the said persons desired that those things that concerned Mr. Parris and the people might be read, and accordingly it was. And the entry, that some call a salary, being read, there arose a difference among the people, the occasion of which was finding an entry in the book of the Village records, relating to Mr. Parris his maintenance, which was dated the 18th of June,[i.296] 1689; and, the entry being read to the people, some replied that they believed that Mr. Parris would not comply with that entry; whereupon one said it was best to send for Mr. Parris to resolve the question. Accordingly, he was sent for. He coming to the people, this entry of the 18th of June, 1689, was read to Mr. Parris. His answer was as follows: 'He never heard or knew any thing of it, neither could or would he take up with it, or any part of it;' and further he said, 'They were knaves and cheaters that entered it.' And Lieutenant Nathaniel Putnam, being moderator of that meeting, replied to Mr. Parris, and said, 'Sir, then there is only proposals on both sides, and no agreement between you and the people.' And Mr. Parris answered and said, 'No more, there is not; for I am free from the people, and the people free from me:' and so the meeting broke up. And we further testify, that there hath not been any agreement made with Mr. Parris, that we knew of or ever heard of,—never since.

We, the undersigned, testify and state that some time after Mr. Parris was ordained, a meeting took place among the residents of Salem Village at the usual gathering spot. The reason for the meeting was about Mr. Parris, and several individuals present had not previously been involved in calling or supporting him. These individuals requested that matters regarding Mr. Parris and the community be read aloud, which they were. When the item, referred to as a salary by some, was read, it sparked a disagreement among the people. The issue arose from an entry in the Village records concerning Mr. Parris's compensation, dated June 18, 1689; upon hearing the entry, some expressed doubts that Mr. Parris would agree to it. Consequently, one person suggested calling for Mr. Parris to clarify the matter. He was summoned, and when he arrived, the entry from June 18, 1689, was read to him. His response was, "I have never heard of this, and I cannot and will not accept it or any part of it," and he added, "Those who entered it are dishonest and deceitful." Lieutenant Nathaniel Putnam, the moderator of the meeting, replied to Mr. Parris, saying, "Sir, this means there are only proposals on both sides, with no agreement between you and the people." Mr. Parris responded, "That's correct; I am free from the people, and the people are free from me." With that, the meeting ended. We further testify that there has never been any agreement made with Mr. Parris that we are aware of or have ever heard of since then.

"Joseph Porter.
Daniel Andrew.
Joseph Putnam.

"Joseph Porter.
Daniel Andrew.
Joseph Putnam.

"Sworn in Court, at Ipswich, April 13, 1697, by all three.

"Sworn in Court at Ipswich, April 13, 1697, by all three."

Attest, Stephen Sewall, Clerk."

Attest, Stephen Sewall, Clerk.

The answer which Mr. Parris made to Nathaniel Putnam's inquiry probably settled the question in the suit then pending, and led to the final release of the parish from him. It is hard to find any point of difference between his own account of the conditions he himself made, and the record of the parish-book, of sufficient importance to account for the storm of passion[i.297] into which the reading of the latter drove him, except in the language which I have suggested as the probable occasion of his wrath. Unfortunately for him, there is evidence quite corroborative of this suggestion.

The response Mr. Parris gave to Nathaniel Putnam's question likely resolved the issue in the ongoing lawsuit and resulted in the parish's final release from him. It's difficult to identify any significant difference between his own version of the conditions he established and the records in the parish book that would explain the intense anger[i.297] that the reading of the latter caused him, aside from the language that I’ve indicated might have triggered his fury. Unfortunately for him, there is solid evidence that supports this idea.

The parish-book has the following record:—

The parish book has the following entry:—

"At a general meeting of the inhabitants of Salem Village, Oct. 10, 1689, it was agreed and voted, that the vote, in our book of record of 1681, that lays, as some say, an entailment upon our ministry house and land, is hereby made void and of no effect; one man only dissenting.

"At a general meeting of the residents of Salem Village on October 10, 1689, it was agreed and voted that the vote in our record from 1681, which some say imposes restrictions on our church house and land, is now canceled and has no validity; only one person disagreed."

"It was voted and agreed by a general concurrence, that we will give to Mr. Parris our ministry house and barn, and two acres of land next adjoining to the house; and that Mr. Parris take office amongst us, and live and die in the work of the ministry among us; and, if Mr. Parris or his heirs do sell the house and land, that the people may have the first refusal of it, by giving as much as other men will. A committee was chosen to lay out the land, and make a conveyance of the house and land, and to make the conveyance in the name and in the behalf of the inhabitants unto Mr. Parris and his heirs."

"It was decided by a general agreement that we will give Mr. Parris our ministry house and barn, along with two acres of land right next to the house; and that Mr. Parris will take on his role among us, living and working in the ministry for as long as he lives. Additionally, if Mr. Parris or his heirs sell the house and land, the community will have the first chance to buy it by matching any other offers. A committee was selected to layout the land, create a conveyance for the house and land, and to make the conveyance in the name of the residents to Mr. Parris and his heirs."

The record of these votes is not signed by the clerk, and there is no evidence that the meeting was legally warned. It does not appear in whose custody the book then was. But, however the entry got in, it proves that Parris's friends were determined to gratify his all but insane purpose to get possession of what he ought to have known it was impossible for the parish to give, or for him or his heirs to hold. It was indeed a miserable commencement of his ministry, to introduce such[i.298] a strife with a people who really seem to have had an earnest desire to receive him with united hearts, and make his settlement and ministry the harbinger of a better day. But he alienated many of them, at the very start, by his sharp practice in negotiating about the pecuniary details of his agreement with the parish. When, after all their care to prevent it, it became known that somehow or other a vote had got upon the records, conveying to him outright their ministerial property, there was great indignation; and a determined effort was made to recover what they declared to be "a fraudulent conveying-away" of the property of the society.

The record of these votes isn’t signed by the clerk, and there’s no proof that the meeting was legally announced. It’s unclear who had the book at that time. But, regardless of how the entry ended up there, it shows that Parris's friends were set on fulfilling his almost crazy desire to take control of what he should have known was impossible for the parish to give, or for him or his heirs to hold. It was truly a poor start to his ministry to create such a conflict with people who genuinely seemed eager to welcome him with open hearts and make his settlement and ministry a sign of better days ahead. However, he pushed many of them away right from the beginning with his shrewd negotiation over the financial details of his agreement with the parish. When it eventually came to light that somehow a vote had been recorded giving him their ministerial property outright, there was widespread outrage, and a strong effort was made to reclaim what they called "a fraudulent transfer" of the society's property.

A more violent conflict than any before was let loose upon that devoted people. The old passions were rekindled. Men ranged themselves as the friends and opponents of Mr. Parris in bitter antagonism. Rates were not collected; the meeting-house went into dilapidation; complaints were made to the County Court; orders were issued to collect rates, but they were disregarded; and all was confusion, disorder, and contention.

A more intense conflict than ever before erupted among that devoted community. Old passions flared up again. People took sides as either supporters or opponents of Mr. Parris in harsh opposition. Taxes weren’t being collected; the meeting house fell into disrepair; complaints were brought to the County Court; orders were given to collect taxes, but they were ignored; and everything was in chaos, disorder, and strife.

A church was organized in connection with the village parish, and Mr. Parris ordained on Monday, Nov. 19, 1689. The covenant adopted was the "confession of faith owned and consented unto by the elders and messengers of the churches assembled at Boston, New England, May 12, 1680." In the library of the Connecticut Historical Society, there is a manuscript volume of sermons and abstracts of sermons preached[i.299] by Mr. Parris between November, 1689, and May, 1694. It begins with his ordination sermon, which has this prefix: "My poor and weak ordination sermon, at the embodying of a church at Salem Village on the 19th of the ninth month, 1689, the Rev. Mr. Nicholas Noyes embodying of us; who also ordained my most unworthy self pastor, and, together with the Rev. Mr. Samuel Phillips and the Rev. Mr. John Hale, imposed hands,—the same Mr. Phillips giving me the right hand of fellowship with beautiful loveliness and humility." The text is from Josh. v. 9: "And the Lord said unto Joshua, This day have I rolled away the reproach of Egypt from off you."

A church was formed in connection with the village parish, and Mr. Parris was ordained on Monday, November 19, 1689. The covenant adopted was the "confession of faith accepted by the elders and messengers of the churches gathered in Boston, New England, on May 12, 1680." In the library of the Connecticut Historical Society, there is a manuscript volume of sermons and summaries of sermons preached[i.299] by Mr. Parris from November 1689 to May 1694. It starts with his ordination sermon, which has this introduction: "My humble and simple ordination sermon, at the establishment of a church in Salem Village on the 19th of the ninth month, 1689, with the Rev. Mr. Nicholas Noyes leading us; he also ordained me, the most unworthy, as pastor, along with the Rev. Mr. Samuel Phillips and the Rev. Mr. John Hale, who laid hands on me—the same Mr. Phillips offering me the right hand of fellowship with grace and humility." The text is from Joshua 5:9: "And the Lord said to Joshua, 'This day I have rolled away the reproach of Egypt from off you.'"

The first entry in the church-records, after the covenant and the names of the members, is the following: "Nov. 24, 1689.—Sab: day. Brother Nathaniel Ingersoll chosen, by a general vote of the brethren, to officiate in the place of a deacon for a time."

The first entry in the church records, after the covenant and the names of the members, is the following: "Nov. 24, 1689.—Sunday. Brother Nathaniel Ingersoll was chosen, by a general vote of the members, to serve as a deacon temporarily."

Mr. Parris commenced his administration by showing that he meant to exercise the disciplinary powers intrusted to him, as pastor of a church, with a high hand, and without much regard to persons or circumstances. Ezekiel Cheever had been a member of the mother-church in Salem twenty years before, was one of the founders of the parish church, and appears to have been a worthy and amiable person, occupying and owning the farm of his uncle, Captain Lothrop. On the sudden illness of a member of his family, being "in distress for a horse," none of his own being[i.300] available at the time, he rushed, in his hurry and alarm, to the stable of a neighbor, took one of his horses, "without leave or asking of it," and rode, post haste, for a doctor. One would have thought that an affair of this sort, in such an exigency, might have been left to neighborly explanation or adjustment. But Mr. Parris regarded it as giving a good opportunity for an exercise of power that would strike the terrors of discipline home upon the whole community. About five or six weeks after the occurrence, Cheever was dealt with in the manner thus described by Mr. Parris, in his church-record, dated "Sab: 30 March, 1690." He was "called forth to give satisfaction to the offended church, as also the last sabbath he was called forth for the same purpose; but then he failed in giving satisfaction, by reason of somewhat mincing in the latter part of his confession, which, in the former, he had more ingenuously acknowledged: but this day, the church received satisfaction, as was testified by their holding-up of their hands; and, after the whole, a word of caution by the pastor was dropped upon the offender in particular, and upon us all in general."

Mr. Parris began his leadership by demonstrating that he intended to use his authority as the pastor of the church firmly and without much consideration for individuals or circumstances. Ezekiel Cheever had been a member of the original church in Salem for twenty years, was one of the founders of the parish church, and seemed to be a good and kind person, managing and owning his uncle Captain Lothrop's farm. When a family member suddenly fell ill and he found himself "in distress for a horse," since none of his own were available, he hurriedly went to a neighbor's stable, took one of their horses "without permission or asking," and rode quickly to fetch a doctor. One might have thought that such a situation could have been resolved neighbor-to-neighbor. However, Mr. Parris saw it as a chance to assert his authority and instill fear of discipline throughout the community. About five or six weeks later, Cheever was addressed in the manner recorded by Mr. Parris in his church record dated "Sab: 30 March, 1690." He was "called forward to provide an explanation to the offended church, as he had also been the previous Sabbath for the same reason; but he failed to satisfy them due to being somewhat hesitant in the latter part of his confession, which he had acknowledged more openly in the first. However, on this day, the church accepted his satisfaction, as shown by their raising their hands; and, after everything was said, the pastor offered a word of caution directed specifically at the offender and generally at all of us."

Mr. Parris was evidently inclined to magnify the importance of the church, and to get it into such a state of subserviency to his authority, that he could wield it effectually as a weapon in his fight with the congregation. With this view, he endeavored to render the action of the church as dignified and imposing as possible; to enlarge and expand its ceremonial proceedings, and make it the theatre for the exercise of[i.301] his authority as its head and ruler. This feature of his policy was so strikingly illustrated in the course he took in reference to the deacons, that I must present it as recorded by him in the church-book. It is worth preserving as a curiosity in ecclesiastical administration.

Mr. Parris clearly wanted to emphasize the importance of the church and make it so dependent on his authority that he could effectively use it as a tool in his conflict with the congregation. To achieve this, he aimed to make the church's actions as dignified and impressive as possible; to expand its ceremonial activities and turn it into a stage for displaying[i.301] his power as its leader and ruler. This aspect of his strategy is vividly shown in his approach to the deacons, which I need to share as it was recorded by him in the church book. It’s interesting enough to keep as an example of church management.

Nathaniel Ingersoll had been a professor of religion almost as long as Mr. Parris had lived. He was eminently a Christian man, of acknowledged piety, and beloved and revered by all. He had been the patron, benefactor, and guardian of the parish and all its interests from its formation. He had long held the title of deacon, and exercised the functions of that office so far as they could be exercised previous to the organization of a church. He had been the almoner of the charities of the people, and their adviser and religious friend in all things. He was approaching the boundaries of advanced years, and already recognized among the fathers of the community. It would have seemed no more than what all might have expected, to have had him recognized as a deacon of the church, in full standing, at the first. It was, no doubt, what all did expect. But no: he must be put upon probation. He was chosen deacon "for the present" in November, 1689. Mr. Parris kept the matter of confirmation hanging in his own hands for a year and a half. The appointment of the other deacon was kept suspended for a full year. On the 30th of November, 1690, there is the following entry:[i.302]

Nathaniel Ingersoll had been a professor of religion for almost as long as Mr. Parris had been alive. He was a genuinely devout Christian, well-known for his piety, and loved and respected by everyone. He had been the supporter, benefactor, and protector of the parish and all its interests since it was established. He had held the title of deacon for a long time, carrying out the duties of that role as best as he could before the church was officially organized. He had been the one to distribute the community's charity and acted as their advisor and spiritual friend in all matters. He was nearing old age and was already recognized among the community elders. It would have been completely expected for him to be acknowledged as a deacon of the church, in full standing, from the very beginning. In fact, that’s exactly what everyone anticipated. But no: he had to be placed on probation. He was appointed deacon "for the present" in November 1689. Mr. Parris kept the matter of his confirmation unresolved for a year and a half. The appointment of the other deacon was also put on hold for a whole year. On November 30, 1690, there is the following entry:[i.302]

"This evening, after the public service was over, the church was, by the pastor, desired to stay, and then by him Brother Edward Putnam was propounded as a meet person for to be chosen as another deacon. The issue whereof was, that, it being now an excessive cold day, some did propose that another season might be pitched upon for discourse thereof. Whereupon the pastor mentioned the next fourth day, at two of the clock, at the pastor's house, for further discourse thereof; to which the church agreed by not dissenting."

This evening, after the church service ended, the pastor asked everyone to stay, and then he proposed Brother Edward Putnam as a suitable candidate to be chosen as another deacon. Because it was an extremely cold day, some suggested that they should pick another time to discuss this matter. In response, the pastor mentioned the next Wednesday at 2:00 PM at his house for further discussion, and the church agreed by not objecting.

The record of the proceedings on the "next fourth day" is as follows:—

The account of what happened on the "next fourth day" is as follows:—

"3 December, 1690.—This afternoon, at a church meeting appointed the last sabbath, Brother Edward Putnam was again propounded to the church for choice to office in the place of a deacon to join with, and be assistant to, Brother Ingersoll in the service, and in order to said Putnam's ordination in the office, upon his well approving himself therein. Some proposed that two might be nominated to the church, out of which the church to choose one. But arguments satisfactory were produced against that way. Some also moved for a choice by papers; but that way also was disapproved by the arguments of the pastor and some others. In fine, the pastor put it to vote (there appearing not the least exception from any, unless a modest and humble exception of the person himself, once and again), and it was carried in the affirmative by a universal vote, nemine non suffragante.

"December 3, 1690.—This afternoon, at a church meeting scheduled last Sunday, Brother Edward Putnam was once again proposed to the church for selection as a deacon, to work alongside and assist Brother Ingersoll in his duties. This was in preparation for Putnam's ordination, provided he proved himself suitable for the role. Some suggested nominating two candidates for the church to choose from, but convincing arguments were presented against that approach. Others also proposed voting by paper, but that method was similarly rejected by the pastor and several others. Finally, the pastor called for a vote (with no objections from anyone, except a humble and modest objection from Putnam himself, voiced once or twice), and it was overwhelmingly approved by a unanimous vote, nemine non suffragante.

"Afterwards, the pastor addressed himself to the elected brother, and, in the name of the church, desired his answer, who replied to this purpose:[i.303]

"Afterwards, the pastor turned to the elected brother and, on behalf of the church, asked for his response, to which he replied:[i.303]

'Seeing, sir, you say the voice of God's people is the voice of God, desiring your prayers and the prayers of the church for divine assistance therein, I do accept of the call.'"

'Seeing, sir, you say that the voice of God’s people is the voice of God, asking for your prayers and the prayers of the church for divine help in this matter, I accept the call.'

When we consider that Edward Putnam was, at Mr. Parris's ordination more than a year before, and had been for some time previous to that event, Ingersoll's associate deacon, and that there probably never was any other person spoken or thought of than these two for deacons, it is evident that it was Mr. Parris's policy to make a great matter of the affair, and produce a general feeling of the weighty importance of church action in the premises. But this was only the beginning of the long-drawn ceremonial solemnities by which the occasion was magnified.

Considering that Edward Putnam had been Ingersoll's associate deacon more than a year before Mr. Parris's ordination and for some time leading up to that event, and that it seems there were never any other candidates for deacons besides these two, it's clear that Mr. Parris intended to make a big deal out of the situation, creating a widespread sense of the significant importance of church involvement in this matter. However, this was just the beginning of the lengthy and formal ceremonies that would amplify the occasion.

"Sab: day, 7 December, 1690.—After the evening public service was over, several things needful were transacted; viz.:—

"Sab: day, December 7, 1690.—After the evening public service was over, several necessary things were taken care of; namely:—"

"1. The pastor acquainted those of the church that were ignorant of it, that Brother Edward Putnam was chosen deacon the last church meeting.

"1. The pastor informed those in the church who were unaware that Brother Edward Putnam was elected as deacon at the last church meeting."

"2. He also generally admonished those of the brethren that were absent at that time, of their disorderliness therein, telling them that such, the apostle bids, should be noted or marked (2 Thess. iii. 6-16); that is, with a church mark,—a mark in a disciplinary way; and therefore begged amendment for the future in that point and to that purpose.

"2. He also usually warned the brothers who were absent at that time about their lack of order, telling them that the apostle advises that such individuals should be noted or marked (2 Thess. iii. 6-16); that is, with a church mark—a mark in a disciplinary way; and therefore asked for improvement in that area for the future."

"3. He propounded whether they so far were satisfied in Brother Ingersoll's service as to call him to settlement in[i.304] the deaconship by ordination, or had aught against it. But no brother made personal exception. Therefore, it being put to vote, it was carried in the affirmative by a plurality, if not universality.

"3. He asked if they were satisfied enough with Brother Ingersoll's service to call him to settle into the deaconship by ordination, or if anyone had a reason against it. But no brother raised any personal objections. So, when it was put to a vote, it passed in favor by a majority, if not unanimously."

"4. The Lord's Table, not being provided for with aught else but two pewter tankards, the pastor propounded and desired that the next sacrament-day, which is to be the 21st instant, there be a more open and liberal contribution by the communicants, that so the deacons may have wherewith to furnish the said table decently; which was consented to."

"4. The Lord's Table, having only two pewter tankards available, prompted the pastor to suggest that for the next sacrament day, which is on the 21st of this month, there should be a more generous contribution from the communicants so the deacons can appropriately supply the table; this was agreed upon."

The last clause, "which was consented to," is in a smaller hand than the rest of the record. It was written by Mr. Parris, but apparently some time afterwards, and with fainter ink. There is reason to suppose that nothing was accomplished at that time in the way of getting rid of the "pewter tankards." The farmers were too hard pressed by taxes imposed by the province, and by the weight of local assessments, to listen to fanciful appeals. They probably continued for some time, and perhaps until after receiving Deacon Ingersoll's legacy, in 1720, to get along as they were. They did not believe, that, in order to approach the presence, and partake of the memorials, of the Saviour, it was necessary to bring vessels of silver or gold. In their circumstances, gathered in their humble rustic edifice for worship, they did not feel that, in the sight of the Lord, costly furniture would add to the adornment of his table.

The last clause, "which was consented to," is written in a smaller font than the rest of the record. Mr. Parris wrote it, but seemingly some time later, and with lighter ink. There’s reason to believe that nothing was achieved at that time regarding the removal of the "pewter tankards." The farmers were too burdened by taxes imposed by the province and local assessments to pay attention to idealistic appeals. They probably continued on as they were for a while, possibly even until after receiving Deacon Ingersoll's legacy in 1720. They didn't think it was necessary to bring silver or gold vessels to approach the presence of the Saviour and partake in the memorials. In their situation, gathered in their humble rural building for worship, they didn’t feel that, in the eyes of the Lord, expensive furnishings would enhance the beauty of his table.

Nearly six months after Putnam's election, Mr.[i.305] Parris brought up the matter again at a meeting of the church, on the 31st of May, 1691, and made a speech relating to it, which he entered on the records thus:—

Nearly six months after Putnam was elected, Mr.[i.305] Parris raised the issue again at a church meeting on May 31, 1691, and delivered a speech about it, which he recorded as follows:—

"The pastor spoke to the brethren to this purpose, viz.:—

"The pastor addressed the members with this message:"

"Brethren,—The ordination of Brother Ingersoll has already been voted a good while since, and I thought to have consummated the affair a good time since, but have been put by, by diversity of occurrents; and, seeing it is so long since, I think it needless to make two works of one, and therefore intend the ordination of Brother Putnam together with Brother Ingersoll in the deaconship, if you continue in the same mind as when you elected him: therefore, if you are so, let a vote manifest it. Voted by all, or at least the most. I observed none that voted not."

"Buddies,—We voted quite some time ago to ordain Brother Ingersoll, and I meant to complete that process earlier, but various events have delayed me. Since some time has passed, I believe it's sensible to combine the ordination of Brother Putnam with Brother Ingersoll for the deaconship, assuming you still feel the same way as when you elected him. So, if that's the case, please express it with a vote. Let's see if everyone is on board, or at least most of you are. I didn't notice anyone who opposed."

At last the mighty work was accomplished. Deacon Ingersoll had been on probation for eighteen months from the date of his election, which took place five days after Mr. Parris's ordination. His final induction to office was observed with great formality, and in the presence of the whole congregation. Mr. Parris enters the order of performances in the church records as follows:—

At last, the important work was done. Deacon Ingersoll had been on probation for eighteen months since he was elected, which happened five days after Mr. Parris was ordained. His final induction into office was celebrated with great formality, and in front of the entire congregation. Mr. Parris records the details of the ceremony in the church records as follows:—

"Sab: 28 June, 1691.—After the afternoon sermon upon 1 Tim. iii. 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, as the brethren had renewed their call of Brother Ingersoll to the office of a deacon, and he himself had declared his acceptance, the pastor proceeded to ordain him, using the form following:

"Sab: 28 June, 1691.—After the afternoon sermon on 1 Tim. iii. 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, the members renewed their call for Brother Ingersoll to serve as a deacon, and he accepted the position. The pastor then began the ordination ceremony, using the following format:

"Beloved Brother, God having called you to the office[i.306] of a deacon by the choice of the brethren and your own acceptance, and that call being now to be consummated according to the primitive pattern, 6 Acts 6, by prayer and imposition of hands,—

"Dear Brother, God has called you to the role[i.306] of a deacon through the choice of your fellow members and your own willingness, and that call is now set to be completed according to the original example, 6 Acts 6, through prayer and the laying on of hands,—

"We do, therefore, by this solemnity, declare your investiture into that office, solemnly charging you in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, the King of his Church, who walks in the midst of his golden candlesticks, with eyes as of a flame of fire, exactly observing the demeanor of all in his house, both officers and members, that you labor so to carry it, as to evidence you are sanctified by grace, qualified for this work, and to grow in those qualifications; behaving of yourself gravely, sincerely, temperately, with due care for the government of your own house, holding the mystery of the faith in a pure conscience; that as they in this office are called 'helps,' so you be helpful in your place and capacity, doing what is your part for the promoting of the work of Christ here. We do charge you, that, whatever you do in this office, you do it faithfully, giving with simplicity, showing mercy with cheerfulness. Look on it, brother, as matter of care, and likewise of encouragement, that both the office itself and also your being set up in it is of God, who, being waited upon, will be with you, and accept you therein, assisting you to use the office of a deacon well, so as that you may be blameless, purchasing to yourself a good degree and great boldness in the faith.

We now, with this ceremony, officially declare your appointment to this position, earnestly charging you in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, the King of His Church, who walks among His golden lampstands, with eyes like burning flames, carefully observing the conduct of everyone in His house, both leaders and members. We urge you to work diligently in this role, demonstrating that you are sanctified by grace, qualified for this duty, and committed to growing in those qualifications. Conduct yourself with seriousness, sincerity, and temperance, while also managing your own household responsibly, holding the mystery of faith with a clear conscience. Just as those in this role are called 'helpers,' may you be supportive in your position, doing your part to advance the work of Christ here. We charge you to perform all duties in this role with faithfulness, giving simply and showing mercy joyfully. Consider this, brother, as both a responsibility and an encouragement, recognizing that both the role itself and your appointment to it come from God, who, when sought, will be with you and accept you in this role, helping you to fulfill your duties as a deacon effectively, so that you may be blameless and gain a good standing and great confidence in the faith.

"Note.—That Brother Putnam was not yet willing to be ordained, but desired further considering time, between him and I and Brother Ingersoll, in private discourse the week before the ordination above said."

"Note.—Brother Putnam was not ready to be ordained yet and wanted more time to think it over, in private discussions between him, me, and Brother Ingersoll, the week before the ordination mentioned above."

"Brother Putnam" probably partook of the general[i.307] wonder what all this appearance of difficulty and delay, under the peculiar circumstances of the case, meant; and being, as the record truly says, a modest and humble man, he naturally shrank from the formidable ceremoniousness and pretentious parade with which Mr. Parris surrounded the transaction. At any rate, he hesitated long before he was willing to encounter it. It is probable that he positively refused to have his induction to the office heralded with such solemn pomp. There is no mention of his public ordination, which Mr. Parris would not have omitted to record, had any such scene occurred. All we know is that he was recognized as deacon forthwith, and held the office for forty years.

"Brother Putnam" probably shared the general[i.307] curiosity about what all the difficulty and delay meant, given the unique circumstances of the situation. As the record accurately states, he was a modest and humble man, so he naturally felt uncomfortable with the formalities and show that Mr. Parris made of the event. In any case, he took a long time to agree to it. It’s likely that he outright refused to have his appointment to the position announced with such grandiosity. There’s no record of his public ordination, which Mr. Parris definitely would have noted if such an event had taken place. All we know is that he was immediately recognized as deacon and held the position for forty years.

The disposition of Mr. Parris to make use of his office, as the head of the church, to multiply occasions for the exercise of his influence, and to gain control over the minds of the brethren, is apparent throughout his records. He raised objections in order to show how he could remove them, and started difficulties about matters which had not before been brought into question. In the beginning of his ministry, he manifested this propensity. At a church meeting at John Putnam's house, Feb. 20, 1690, less than three months after his ordination, he threw open the whole question of baptism for discussion among the brethren. There is no reason to suppose that their attention had been drawn to it before. He propounded the question to the plain, practical husbandmen, "Who are the proper subjects of baptism?" He laid down the true[i.308] doctrine, as he regarded it, in this answer, "Covenant-professing believers and their infant seed." He put the answer to vote, and none voted against it. He then proceeded with another question, "How far may we account such seed infant seed, and so to be baptized?" Here he had got beyond their depth, and, as some of them thought, his own too; for there was only a "major vote" in favor of his answer: "two or three, I think not four, dissented." There was some danger of getting into divisions by introducing such questions; but he managed to avoid it, so far as his church was concerned. He worked them up to the highest confidence in his learning and wisdom, and gained complete ascendency over them. He aggrandized their sense of importance, and accomplished his object in securing their support in his controversies with his congregation. The brethren, after a while, became his devoted body-guard, and the church a fortress of defence and assault. There is reason, however, to believe, that the points he raised on the subject of baptism led to perplexities, in some minds, which long continued to disturb them. While showing off his learning, and displaying his capacity to dispose of the deep questions of theology, he let fall seeds of division and doubt that ripened into contention in subsequent generations. The only ripple on the surface of the Village Church during its long record of peace, since the close of his disastrous ministry, was occasioned by differing opinions on this subject. It required all the wisdom of his successors to quiet them. From time to time, formulas had[i.309] to be constructed, half-way covenants of varying expressions to be framed, to meet and dispose of the difficulties thus gratuitously raised by him.

Mr. Parris's tendency to use his position as the head of the church to create opportunities for exercising influence and to control the minds of his congregation is clear throughout his records. He raised objections simply to demonstrate how he could resolve them and introduced difficulties about topics that had not been questioned before. Early in his ministry, he showed this behavior. At a church meeting at John Putnam's house on February 20, 1690, less than three months after his ordination, he opened up the topic of baptism for discussion among the members. There’s no reason to believe they had discussed it before. He asked the simple, practical farmers, "Who are the appropriate subjects of baptism?" He stated what he believed to be the correct doctrine in this answer, "Covenant-professing believers and their infant offspring." He put this answer to a vote, and no one voted against it. He then moved on to another question, "To what extent can we consider such offspring as infant offspring, and thus eligible for baptism?" Here, he exceeded their understanding, and perhaps his own too; as there was only a "majority vote" supporting his answer: "two or three, I think not four, disagreed." There was some risk of creating divisions by introducing such questions, but he managed to avoid it, at least within his church. He built their confidence in his knowledge and wisdom, establishing complete control over them. He inflated their sense of importance and achieved his goal of securing their support in his disputes with the congregation. Eventually, the members became his loyal protectors, and the church turned into a stronghold for both defense and attack. However, it’s believed that the questions he raised about baptism caused ongoing confusion for some, which continued to trouble them. While showcasing his knowledge and demonstrating his ability to tackle complex theological questions, he planted seeds of division and doubt that grew into conflict for future generations. The only disruption in the otherwise peaceful history of the Village Church, after his troubled ministry ended, stemmed from differing views on this matter. It took all the wisdom of his successors to quell these issues. Periodically, they had to create formulas, various expressions of half-way covenants, to address and resolve the complications he had unnecessarily raised.

The following passages from his record-book show how he made much of a matter which any other pastor would have quietly arranged without calling for the intervention of church or congregation: they are also interesting as a picture of the times:—

The following entries from his record book reveal how he emphasized an issue that any other pastor would have handled discreetly without seeking the involvement of the church or congregation: they also provide an intriguing snapshot of the era:—

"Sab: 9 Aug. 1691.—After all public worship was over, and the church stayed on purpose, I proposed to the church whether they were free to admit to baptism, upon occasion, such as were not at present free to come up to full communion. I told them there was a young woman, by name Han: Wilkins, the daughter of our Brother Thomas Wilkins, who much desired to be baptized, but yet did not dare to come to the Lord's Supper. If they had nothing against it, I should take their silence for consent, and in due time acquaint them with what she had offered me to my satisfaction, and proceed accordingly."

"Aug 9, 1691.—After all the public worship was done, and the church gathered specifically for this, I asked the congregation if they were open to baptizing those who, for the time being, were not able to participate in full communion. I mentioned a young woman named Han Wilkins, the daughter of our Brother Thomas Wilkins, who was eager to be baptized but didn't feel ready to join in the Lord's Supper. If they had no objections, I would take their silence as agreement, and I would later inform them about what she had shared with me that I found satisfactory, and proceed accordingly."

No answer was made pro or con, and so the church was dismissed.

No answer was given either way, so the church was dismissed.

"Sab: 23 Aug. 1691.—Hannah Wilkins, aged about twenty-one years, was called forth, and her relation read in the full assembly, and then it was propounded to the church, that, if they had just exceptions, or, on the other hand, had any thing farther to encourage, they had opportunity and liberty to speak. None said any thing but Brother Bray Wilkins (Han: grandfather), who said, that, for all he knew, such a relation as had been given and a conversation suitable[i.310] (as he judged hers to be) was enough to enjoy full communion. None else saying any thing, it was put to vote whether they were so well satisfied as to receive this young woman into membership, and therefore initiate her therein by baptism. It was voted fully. Whereupon the covenant was given to her as if she had entered into full communion. And the pastor told her, in the name of the church, that we would expect and wait for her rising higher, and therefore advised her to attend all means conscientiously for that end.

"Sab: 23 Aug. 1691.—Hannah Wilkins, about twenty-one years old, was called forward, and her story was read to the entire assembly. The church was then asked if they had any concerns or, on the other hand, anything positive to share. No one spoke up except Brother Bray Wilkins (Hannah's grandfather), who said that, as far as he knew, the account given and a suitable conversation (which he thought hers was) were sufficient for her to enjoy full communion. Since no one else had anything to say, they voted on whether they were satisfied enough to accept this young woman into the membership, and to initiate her through baptism. The vote was unanimous. Afterwards, the covenant was presented to her as if she had entered into full communion. The pastor told her, on behalf of the church, that they would look forward to her growth in faith, and encouraged her to diligently engage in all means to achieve that."

"After all, I pronounced her a member of this church, and then baptized her.

"After all, I declared her a member of this church, and then baptized her."

"28 August, 1691.—This day, Sister Hannah Wilkins aforesaid came to me, and spake to this like effect, following:—

"28 August, 1691.—Today, Sister Hannah Wilkins mentioned to me something along these lines:—"

"Before I was baptized (you know, sir), I was desirous of communion at the Lord's Table, but not yet; I was afraid of going so far: but since my baptism I find my desires growing to the Lord's Table, and I am afraid to turn my back upon that ordinance, or to refuse to partake thereof. And that which moves me now to desire full communion, which I was afraid of before, is that of Thomas, 20 John 26, &c., where he, being absent from the disciples, though but once, lost a sight of Christ, and got more hardness of heart, or increase of unbelief. And also those words of Ananias to Paul after his conversion, 22 Acts 16, 'And now why tarriest thou? Arise,' &c. So I am afraid of tarrying. The present time is only mine. And God having, beyond my deserts, graciously opened a door, I look upon it my duty to make present improvement of it.

"Before I got baptized (you know, sir), I really wanted to take part in communion, but I wasn't ready yet; I was hesitant to go that far. But since my baptism, I've found my desire for the Lord's Table growing, and I'm afraid to turn away from that practice or to refuse to participate in it. What motivates me now to seek full communion, which I was previously afraid of, is the story of Thomas in John 20:26, where he missed a chance to see Christ just once and ended up with a harder heart and more doubt. Also, I think about Ananias's words to Paul after his conversion in Acts 22:16, 'And now why are you waiting? Arise,' etc. So, I’m worried about delaying. The present moment is all I have. And since God has graciously opened a door for me, beyond what I deserve, I see it as my responsibility to make the most of this opportunity."

"Sab: and Sacrament Day, 30 Aug. 1691.—Sister Han: Wilkins's motion (before the celebration of the[i.311] Lord's Supper was begun) was mentioned or propounded to the church, and what she said to me (before hinted) read to them, and then their vote was called for, to answer her desire if they saw good; whereupon the church voted in the affirmative plentifully."

"Sab: and Sacrament Day, 30 Aug. 1691.—Sister Han: Wilkins's suggestion (before the celebration of the [i.311] Lord's Supper started) was brought up to the church, and what she shared with me (mentioned earlier) was read to them. Then, they were asked to vote on whether they agreed with her request, and the church voted overwhelmingly in favor."

The foregoing passages illustrate Mr. Parris's propensity to magnify the operations of the church, and to bring its movements as conspicuously and as often as possible before the eyes of the people. It is evident that the humble and timid scruples of this interesting and intelligent young woman might have been met and removed by personal conference with her pastor. As her old grandfather seemed to think, there was no difficulty in the case whatever. The reflections of a few days made the path plain before her. But Mr. Parris paraded the matter on three sabbaths before the church, and on one of them at least before the congregation. He called her to come forth, and stand out in the presence of the "full assembly." As the result of the ordeal, she owned the covenant; the church voted her in, as to full communion; and the pastor pronounced her a member of the church, and baptized her as such. Her sensible conversation with him the next Friday was evidently intended for the satisfaction of him and others, as explaining her appearance at the next communion. But another opportunity was offered to make a display of the case, and he could not resist the temptation. He desired to create an impression by reading what she had said to him in his study, before the church, if not before the whole congregation.[i.312] To give a show of propriety in bringing it forward again, he felt that some action must be had upon it; hence the vote. Accordingly, Hannah Wilkins appears by the record to have been twice, on two successive Lord's Days, voted "plentifully" into the Salem Village Church, when there was no occasion for such an extraordinary repetition, as everybody from the first welcomed her into it with the cordial confidence she merited. I have spread out this proceeding to your view, not altogether from its intrinsic interest, but because, perhaps, it affords the key to interpret the course of this ill-starred man in his wrangles with his congregation, and his terrible prominency in the awful scenes of the witchcraft delusion. He seemed to have had a love of excitement that was irrepressible, an all but insane passion for getting up a scene. When we come to the details of our story, it will be for a charitable judgment to determine whether this trait of his nature may not be regarded as the cause of all the woes in which he involved others and became involved himself.

The previous passages show Mr. Parris's tendency to exaggerate the church’s activities and to put them in front of the public as much as possible. It’s clear that the modest and nervous concerns of this interesting and smart young woman could have been easily addressed in a one-on-one meeting with her pastor. As her grandfather believed, there was no real issue to resolve. A few days of reflection laid out the path for her. However, Mr. Parris highlighted the situation over three Sundays, and at least once, in front of the congregation. He called her to step forward and stand out in front of the “full assembly.” As a result of this ordeal, she accepted the covenant; the church voted her in for full communion, and the pastor declared her a church member and baptized her as such. Her sensible conversation with him the following Friday was clearly meant to assure him and others, explaining her appearance at the next communion. But another chance arose for him to showcase the case, and he couldn’t resist. He wanted to make an impression by sharing what she had said to him in his study, either in front of the church or the entire congregation. To make it appear proper to bring it up again, he felt he needed some sort of action to justify it; hence the vote. As a result, records show that Hannah Wilkins was voted into the Salem Village Church “plentifully” on two consecutive Sundays, even though there was no need for such an extraordinary repetition since everyone welcomed her in from the start with the warm confidence she deserved. I have laid out this event for you not only because of its inherent interest but also because it might provide insight into the actions of this unfortunate man during his conflicts with his congregation and his prominent role in the horrific witchcraft delusion. He seemed to have a relentless love for excitement, almost an insane passion for creating drama. When we delve into the details of our story, it will be up to a compassionate judgment to decide whether this trait of his character might be the root of all the troubles he caused for others and himself.

The church records are, in one respect, in singular contrast with the parish records. The latter are often silent in reference to matters of interest at the time, which might without impropriety have been entered in them. They are confined strictly to votes and proceedings in legal meetings, or what purport to have been meetings legally called; and we look in vain for comments or notices relating to outside matters. Except when kept by Sergeant Thomas Putnam, they[i.313] are defective and imperfect. The church records, while made by Mr. Parris, are full of side remarks, and touches of criticism concerning whatever was going on. This makes them particularly interesting and valuable now. They are composed in their author's clear, natural, and sprightly style; and, although for the most part in an exceedingly small hand, are legible with perfect ease, and give us a transcript, not only of the formal doings of the church, but of the writer's mind and feelings about matters and things in general. We gather from them by far the greater part of all we know relating to his quarrel with his congregation.

The church records are, in one way, very different from the parish records. The latter often leave out important details of the time that could have easily been included. They focus only on votes and proceedings in official meetings, or what appear to be officially called meetings; we find no comments or notes on outside matters. Unless they were kept by Sergeant Thomas Putnam, they[i.313] are not complete and have gaps. The church records, although compiled by Mr. Parris, are filled with side comments and critiques about what was happening. This makes them especially interesting and valuable today. They are written in the author's clear, straightforward, and lively style; and, despite mostly being in a very small handwriting, they are easy to read and provide us with not just a record of the church’s formal activities, but also insights into the writer’s thoughts and feelings on various issues. From these records, we get most of what we know about his conflict with his congregation.

This subject constantly engrossed his thoughts. He was continually introducing, at church meetings, complaints against the conduct of the parish committee, and enlarging upon the wrongs he was suffering at their hands. He took occasion on Lecture days, if not in ordinary discourses on the Lord's Day, to give all possible circulation and publicity to his grievances. The effect of this was, instead of bringing his people into subjection and carrying his points against them, to aggravate their alienation. His manner of dealing with the difficulties of the situation into which they had been brought was harsh and exasperating, and utterly injudicious, imprudent, and mischievous in all its bearings, producing a condition of things truly scandalous. His notions and methods, acquired in his mercantile life; his haggling with the people about the terms of his salary; and his general manner and tone, particularly so far as they had been formed by residence[i.314] in West-India slave Islands,—were thoroughly distasteful, and entirely repugnant, to the feelings, notions, ideas, and spirit of the farmers of Salem Village. At their meetings, they showed a continually increasing strength of opposition to him, and were careful to appoint committees who could not be brought under his influence, and would stand firm against all outside pressure.

This topic constantly occupied his mind. He was always bringing up complaints at church meetings about the behavior of the parish committee, elaborating on the wrongs he felt he was enduring because of them. He took the opportunity on Lecture days, and sometimes on Sundays, to publicly air his grievances as much as possible. The result of this was not to subdue his congregation or to win them over, but to intensify their feelings of alienation. His approach to the issues they were facing was harsh and frustrating, and it was completely misguided, reckless, and harmful in every way, creating a truly scandalous situation. His ideas and methods, developed during his business career; his bargaining with the congregation over his salary; and his overall demeanor and tone, particularly influenced by his time spent in the West Indies slave Islands, were deeply unappealing and completely clashed with the values, beliefs, ideas, and spirit of the farmers in Salem Village. At their meetings, they demonstrated a growing strength of opposition to him and were careful to choose committee members who wouldn’t be swayed by him and would resist any outside pressure.

It is quite apparent, that Mr. Parris employed his church, and the ministerial offices generally, as engines to operate against his opponents; and sometimes rather unscrupulously, as a collocation of dates and entries shows. A meeting of the parish was warned to be held Oct. 16, 1691. It was important to bring his machinery to bear upon the feelings of the people, so as to strengthen the hands of his friends at that meeting. The following entry is in the church-book, dated 8th October, 1691: "Being my Lecture-day, after public service was ended, I was so bare of firewood, that I was forced publicly to desire the inhabitants to take care that I might be provided for; telling them, that, had it not been for Mr. Corwin (who had bought wood, being then at my house), I should hardly have any to burn." According to his own account, as we have seen, it had been arranged, by mutual agreement, that he was to provide his own firewood, six pounds per annum having been added to his salary for that purpose. He selected that item as one of the necessaries of which he was in want, probably because, as the winter was approaching, it would be the best point on[i.315] which to appeal to the public sympathies, and get up a clamor against his opponents.

It’s clear that Mr. Parris used his church and the roles of other ministers to push against his opponents, sometimes without much scruple, as shown by a collection of dates and entries. A meeting for the parish was announced to happen on October 16, 1691. It was crucial for him to sway public sentiment to support his friends at that meeting. The church record from October 8, 1691, states: "Since it was my Lecture day, after the public service ended, I was so short on firewood that I had to publicly ask the residents to ensure I was supplied; I mentioned that if it hadn’t been for Mr. Corwin (who had bought wood and was at my house), I would hardly have any to burn." According to his own account, as we've seen, it had been agreed that he would provide his own firewood, with an additional six pounds added to his salary for that purpose. He highlighted this necessity likely because, with winter approaching, it would be the best way to appeal to the public’s sympathies and rally against his opponents.

The parish meeting was duly held on the 16th of October. Mr. Parris's speech, at the preceding Lecture-day, about "firewood," was found not to have produced the desired effect. The majority against him was as strong as ever. A committee made up of his opponents was elected. A motion to instruct them to make a rate was rejected, and a warrant ordered to be forthwith issued for a special meeting of the inhabitants, to examine into all the circumstances connected with the settlement of Mr. Parris, and to ascertain whether the meetings which had acted therein were legally called, and by what means the right and title of the parish to its ministry house and lands had been brought into question. This was pressing matters to an issue. Mr. Parris saw it, and determined to meet it in advance. He resorted to his church, as usual, to execute his plan, as the following entries on the record-book show:—

The parish meeting took place on October 16th. Mr. Parris's speech at the previous Lecture Day about "firewood" didn't have the impact he hoped for. The opposition against him remained strong. A committee of his opponents was formed. A motion to direct them to create a rate was rejected, and a warrant was issued immediately for a special meeting of the residents to investigate all the circumstances surrounding Mr. Parris's settlement, and to determine whether the meetings that addressed this issue were called legally, and how the parish’s claim to its ministry house and land had been questioned. This brought urgent matters to the forefront. Mr. Parris recognized this and decided to confront it proactively. He turned to his church, as usual, to put his plan into action, as the following entries in the record book indicate:—

"1 Nov. 1691.—The pastor desired the brethren to meet at my house, on to-morrow, an hour and half before sundown.

"1 Nov. 1691.—The pastor asked the brothers to gather at my house tomorrow, an hour and a half before sunset."

"2 Nov. 1691.—After sunset, about seventeen of the brethren met; to whom, after prayer, I spoke to this effect: Brethren, I have not much to trouble you with now; but you know what committee, the last town-meeting here, were chosen; and what they have done, or intend to do; it may be better than I. But, you see, I have hardly any wood[i.316] to burn. I need say no more, but leave the matter to your serious and godly consideration.

"2 Nov. 1691.—After sunset, about seventeen of the brothers gathered; after a prayer, I spoke to them like this: Brothers, I don't have much to discuss with you right now; but you know what committee was elected in the last town meeting here, and what they have done or plan to do; it may be better than I. However, you see, I hardly have any wood[i.316] to burn. I won't say more, but I'll leave this matter to your serious and prayerful consideration."

"In fine, after some discourse to and fro, the church voted that Captain Putnam and the two deacons should go, as messengers from the church, to the committee, to desire them to make a rate for the minister, and to take care of necessary supplies for him; and that said messengers should make their return to the church the next tenth day, an hour before sunset, at the minister's house, where they would expect it.

"In short, after some back-and-forth discussion, the church decided that Captain Putnam and the two deacons should go as representatives of the church to the committee. They were to ask them to set a rate for the minister and to ensure he had the necessary supplies. These messengers were expected to report back to the church on the next tenth day, an hour before sunset, at the minister's house, where they would be waiting."

"10 Nov. 1691.—The messengers abovesaid came with their return, as appointed; which was, that the committee did not see good to take notice of their message, without they had some letter to show under the church's and pastor's hand. But, at this last church meeting, besides the three messengers, but three other brethren did appear,—namely, Brother Thomas Putnam, Thomas Wilkins, and Peter Prescot,—which slight and neglect of other brethren did not a little trouble me, as I expressed myself. But I told these brethren I expected the church should be more mindful of me than other people, and their way was plain before them, &c.

"10 Nov. 1691.—The messengers mentioned earlier returned as scheduled, stating that the committee didn’t feel it was right to acknowledge their message unless they presented a letter signed by the church and the pastor. However, at the last church meeting, along with the three messengers, only three other members showed up—Brother Thomas Putnam, Thomas Wilkins, and Peter Prescot—which really bothered me, as I mentioned. I told these members that I expected the church to be more considerate of me than others, and their path was clear ahead of them, etc."

"Sab: 15 Nov. 1691.—The church were desired to meet at Brother Nathaniel Putnam's, the next 18th instant, at twelve o'clock, to spend some time in prayer, and seeking God's presence with us, the next Lord's Day, at his table, as has been usual with us, some time before the sacrament.

"Sab: Nov 15, 1691. — The church was asked to gather at Brother Nathaniel Putnam's on the upcoming 18th at noon, to spend some time in prayer and seek God's presence with us next Lord's Day at his table, as we've usually done before the sacrament."

"18 Nov. 1691.—After some time spent, as above said, at this church meeting, the pastor desired the brethren to stay, forasmuch as he had somewhat to offer to them, which was to this purpose; viz.: Brethren, several church[i.317] meetings have been occasionally warned, and sometimes the appearance of the brethren is but small to what it might be expected, and particularly the case mentioned 10th instant. I told them I did not desire to warn meetings unnecessarily, and, therefore, when I did, I prayed them they would regularly attend them.

"18 Nov. 1691.—After spending some time, as mentioned earlier, at this church meeting, the pastor asked the members to stay, as he had something to share with them. He said: 'Brothers, several church meetings have been called from time to time, but often the turnout is much smaller than expected, especially regarding the case mentioned on the 10th. I told them I didn’t want to call meetings unnecessarily, so when I did, I kindly asked them to make it a point to attend regularly.'"

"Furthermore, I told them I had scarce wood enough to burn till the morrow, and prayed that some care might be taken. In fine, after discourses passed, these following votes were made unanimously, namely:—

"Furthermore, I told them I barely had enough wood to burn until tomorrow and asked that some care be taken. In the end, after some discussions, the following votes were made unanimously, namely:—

"1. That it was needful that complaint should be made to the next honored County Court, to sit at Salem, the next third day of the week, against the neglects of the present committee.

"1. That it was necessary to file a complaint with the next respected County Court, to be held in Salem on the upcoming Tuesday, regarding the neglects of the current committee."

"2. That the said complaint should be drawn up, which was immediately done by one of the brethren, and consented to.

"2. That the complaint should be prepared, which was quickly done by one of the members, and approved."

"3. That our brethren, Nathaniel Putnam, Thomas Putnam, and Thomas Wilkins, should sign said complaint in behalf of the church.

"3. That our fellows, Nathaniel Putnam, Thomas Putnam, and Thomas Wilkins, should sign this complaint on behalf of the church."

"4. Last, That our brethren, Captain John Putnam and the two deacons, should be improved to present the said complaint to the said Court.

"4. Finally, that our colleagues, Captain John Putnam and the two deacons, should be tasked with bringing the complaint to the Court."

"In the mean time, the pastor desired the brethren that care might be taken that he might not be destitute of wood."

"In the meantime, the pastor asked the brothers to make sure he wouldn't be without firewood."

The record proceeds to give several other votes, the object of which was to arrange the details of the manner in which the business was to be put into court. There we leave it for the present, and there it remained for nearly seven years. Mr. Parris probably[i.318] got the start of his opponents, in being first to invoke the law. This is what he meant when he told his church "that their way was plain before them." If extraordinary and unforeseen circumstances had not intervened, the case would more speedily have been disposed of, and we cannot doubt what would have been its issue. Whatever might be the bias or prejudice of the courts, or however they might have attempted to enforce their first decisions, there can be no question, that, in such a contest, the people would have finally prevailed. The committee were men competent to carry the parish through. A religious society, with such feelings between them and their minister, after all that had happened, and the just grounds given them of dissatisfaction and resentment, could not always, or long, have been kept under such an infliction.

The record goes on to give several more votes aimed at figuring out how the case would be brought to court. We’ll pause here for now, and it stayed like this for almost seven years. Mr. Parris likely
[i.318] was ahead of his opponents by being the first to call on the law. This is what he meant when he told his church that their path was clear. If unexpected and unusual circumstances hadn’t gotten in the way, the case would have been resolved more quickly, and there’s no doubt about what the outcome would have been. Regardless of any bias or prejudice in the courts, or how they might have tried to stick to their initial decisions, it’s clear that, in such a struggle, the people would have ultimately won. The committee was made up of capable men who could support the parish. A religious community, with such tensions between them and their minister after everything that had happened, along with valid reasons for their dissatisfaction and anger, couldn’t have remained under such pressure forever.

In the immediately preceding entries, there are some points that illustrate the policy on which Mr. Parris acted, and exhibit the skill and vigilance of his management. The motive that led him to harp so constantly upon "firewood" is obvious. It was to create a sympathy in his behalf, and bring opprobrium upon his opponents. But it cannot stand the test of scrutiny: for it had been expressly agreed, as I have said, that he should find his own fuel; and it cannot be supposed that his friends, if he then had any real ones, surrounded, as they were, with forests of their own, within sight of the parsonage, would have allowed him to suffer from this cause. There is indication[i.319] that the "brethren of the church" were getting lukewarm, as their non-attendance at important meetings led Mr. Parris to fear. At any rate, he felt it necessary to administer some rather significant rebukes to them. The meeting for prayer, preparatory to the ensuing communion service, was very adroitly converted into a business consultation to inaugurate a lawsuit. But the most characteristic thing, in this part of the church-book, is a marginal entry, against the first paragraph of the record of the 2d November, 1691. It is in these words:—

In the previous entries, there are some points that highlight the policy Mr. Parris followed and show the skill and attentiveness of his management. His repeated focus on "firewood" was clearly to gain sympathy for himself and discredit his opponents. However, this doesn't hold up under scrutiny: it was explicitly agreed, as I mentioned, that he would supply his own fuel; and it's unlikely that his friends, if he had any real ones, would let him face this problem while surrounded by their own forests, visible from the parsonage. There are signs[i.319] that the "brethren of the church" were losing interest, as their absence from important meetings made Mr. Parris worried. Regardless, he felt it necessary to deliver some pretty strong rebukes to them. The prayer meeting, meant to prepare for the upcoming communion service, was cleverly turned into a business discussion to start a lawsuit. But the most notable thing in this part of the church record is a marginal note next to the first paragraph of the record from November 2, 1691. It reads as follows:—

"The town-meeting, about or at 16th October last. Jos: Porter, Jos: Hutchinson, Jos: Putnam, Dan: Andrew, Francis Nurse."

"The town meeting, around October 16th last year. Jos: Porter, Jos: Hutchinson, Jos: Putnam, Dan: Andrew, Francis Nurse."

These were the committee appointed at the meeting. Their names, thus abbreviated, are given, and not a syllable added. But the manner, the then state of things, and their relation to the controversy, give a deep import and intense bitterness to this entry. He knew the men, and in their names read the handwriting on the wall.

These were the committee members chosen at the meeting. Their names, as shortened, are provided, and not a word more. However, the situation at the time and their connection to the issue add significant meaning and strong emotion to this record. He recognized the men and saw the warning in their names.

But a turn was soon given to the current that was bearing Mr. Parris down. A power was evoked—whether he raised it designedly, or whether it merely happened to appear on the scene, we cannot certainly say; but it came into action just at the nick of time—which instantly reversed the position of the parties, and clothed him with a terrible strength, enabling him to crush his opponents beneath his feet. In a few short[i.320] months, he was the arbiter of life and death of all the people of the village and the country. "Jos: Porter and Jos: Hutchinson" escaped. The power of destruction broke down before it became strong enough to reach them perhaps. "Jos: Putnam" was kept for six months in the constant peril of his life. During all that time, he and his family were armed, and kept watch. "Dan: Andrew" saved himself from the gallows by flight to a foreign land. The unutterable woes brought upon the family of "Francis Nurse" remain to be related.

But soon, a shift happened that changed the direction Mr. Parris was heading. A force was unleashed—whether he summoned it on purpose, or it just appeared at the right moment, we can't say for sure; but it took effect just in time—instantly changing the dynamics and giving him a terrible power that allowed him to crush his opponents. In just a few short[i.320] months, he became the one who decided life and death for all the people in the village and the surrounding area. "Jos: Porter and Jos: Hutchinson" managed to escape. The force of destruction faltered before it became strong enough to reach them, perhaps. "Jos: Putnam" lived in constant danger for six months. During that time, he and his family were armed and kept watch. "Dan: Andrew" saved himself from the noose by fleeing to another country. The unimaginable suffering inflicted on the family of "Francis Nurse" still needs to be told.

The witchcraft delusion at Salem Village, in 1692, has attracted universal attention, constitutes a permanent chapter in the world's history, and demands a full exposition, and, if possible, a true solution. Being convinced that it cannot be correctly interpreted without a thorough knowledge of the people among whom it appeared, I have felt it indispensable, before opening its scenes to view, or treating the subject of demonology, of which it was an outgrowth, in the first place to prepare myself, and those who accompany me in its examination and discussion, to fully comprehend it, by traversing the ground over which we have now passed. By a thorough history of Salem Village from its origin to the period of our story, by calling its founders and their children and successors into life before you by personal, private, domestic, and local details, gleaned from old records and documents, I have tried to place you at the standpoint from which the entire occurrence can be intelligibly contemplated. We can in no other[i.321] way get a true view of a passage of history than by looking at the men who acted in it, as they really were. We must understand their characters, enter into their life, see with their eyes, feel with their hearts, and be enveloped, as it were, with their associations, sentiments, beliefs, and principles of action. In this way only can we bring the past into our presence, comprehend its elements, fathom its depths, read its meaning, or receive its lessons.

The witchcraft panic in Salem Village in 1692 has caught the world's attention, remains a significant part of history, and requires a comprehensive explanation as well as, if possible, a genuine resolution. I believe it can’t be properly understood without a deep understanding of the community in which it occurred. Therefore, before exploring the events or discussing demonology, which arose from it, I felt it essential to prepare myself and those joining me in this analysis by reviewing the background we have now covered. By providing a detailed history of Salem Village from its founding to the time of our story, bringing its founders, their families, and successors to life through personal, domestic, and local details drawn from historical records, I have aimed to give you a perspective from which the entire situation can be clearly understood. We can’t truly grasp a historical event without looking closely at the people involved in it as they actually were. We must understand their personalities, engage with their lives, see through their perspectives, feel their emotions, and be surrounded by their connections, feelings, beliefs, and guiding principles. Only then can we bring the past into focus, comprehend its components, explore its depths, interpret its significance, and learn from its lessons.

I am confident you will agree with me, that it was not because the people of Salem Village were more ignorant, stupid, or weak-minded than the people of other places, that the delusion made its appearance or held its sway among them. This is a vital point to the just consideration of the subject. I do not mean justice to them so much as to ourselves and all who wish to understand, and be benefited by understanding, the subject. There never was a community composed originally of better materials, or better trained in all good usages. Although the generations subsequent to the first had not enjoyed, to any considerable extent, the advantages of education, the circumstances of their experience had kept their faculties in the fullest exercise. They were an energetic and intelligent people. Their moral condition, social intercourse, manners, and personal bearing, were excellent. The lesson of the catastrophe impending over them, at the point to which we have arrived, can only be truly and fully received, for the warning of all coming time, by having correct views on this point. The delusion[i.322] that brought ruin upon them was not the result of any essential inferiority in their moral or intellectual condition. What we call their ignorance was the received philosophy and wisdom of the day, accepted generally by the great scholars of that and previous ages, preached from the pulpits, taught in the universities, recognized in law and in medicine as well as theology, and carried out in the proceedings of public tribunals and legislative assemblies.

I’m sure you’ll agree that the people of Salem Village weren’t more ignorant, foolish, or weak-minded than those in other places, which is why the delusion took hold there. This is a crucial point for understanding the subject fairly. I’m not just being fair to them but also to ourselves and anyone who wants to grasp and benefit from understanding this issue. The community was originally made up of better qualities and was well-trained in good practices. Although later generations didn’t have as much access to education, their life experiences kept their abilities fully engaged. They were energetic and smart. Their moral standards, social interactions, manners, and personal conduct were all excellent. The lesson about the disaster approaching them, at the point we’ve reached, can only be properly understood—and serve as a warning for the future—by having the right perspective on this matter. The delusion[i.322] that led to their downfall wasn’t caused by any inherent moral or intellectual weakness. What we consider their ignorance was actually the accepted philosophy and wisdom of the time, widely endorsed by leading scholars of that and earlier eras, preached from pulpits, taught in universities, recognized in law and medicine as well as theology, and enforced in public courts and legislative bodies.

The history of the planting, settlement, and progress of Salem Village, to 1692, has now been given. We know, so far as existing materials within reach enable us to know, what sort of a population occupied the place at the date of our story. Their descent, breeding, and experiences have been related. They were, at least, equal in intelligence to any of the people of their day. They were strenuous in action, trained to earnestness and zeal, accustomed to become deeply engaged in whatever interested them, and to take strong hold of the ideas and sentiments they received. It becomes necessary, therefore, in the next place, to ascertain what their ideas were in reference to witchcraft, diabolical agency, and supernaturalism generally. I shall proceed accordingly to give the condition of opinion, at that time, on the subject of demonology.

The history of the planting, settlement, and progress of Salem Village up to 1692 has now been presented. We know, to the extent that the available materials allow, what kind of population inhabited the area at the time of our story. Their background, upbringing, and experiences have been shared. They were at least as intelligent as any other people of their time. They were active, driven by earnestness and enthusiasm, used to becoming deeply involved in whatever captured their interest, and they strongly embraced the ideas and feelings they encountered. It is essential, therefore, to identify what their beliefs were regarding witchcraft, evil forces, and the supernatural in general. I will now proceed to outline the prevailing opinions on demonology at that time.


PART SECOND.

 


PART SECOND.


WITCHCRAFT.

DEMONOLOGY, as a general term, may be employed, for convenience, to include a whole class of ideas—which, under different names and a vast variety of conceptions, have come through all ages, and prevailed among all races of mankind—relating to the supposed agency of supernatural, invisible, and spiritual beings in terrestrial affairs. As necessarily applicable to evil spirits, particularly to the arch-enemy and supreme adversary of God and man under the name of Satan or the Devil, the term does not appear to have been used in ancient times. Professed communications with supernatural beings were not originally stamped with a diabolical character, but, like some alleged to be had in our day, were regarded as innocent, and even creditable. Men sought to hold intercourse with spirits belonging to the unseen world, as some persons do now; assuming that they were worthy of confidence, and that responses from[i.326] them were valuable and desirable. This was the case under the reign of classical mythology, and of heathen superstition in general. Those individuals who were supposed to be conversant with demons were looked upon by the credulous multitude as a highly privileged class; and they arrogated the credit of being raised to a higher sphere of knowledge than the rest of mankind.

DEMONOLOGY is a broad term that can be used for convenience to encompass a whole range of ideas—under various names and differing beliefs—that have existed throughout history and across all cultures, regarding the supposed influence of supernatural, invisible, and spiritual beings in earthly matters. While the term is especially relevant to evil spirits, notably the ultimate enemy and chief opposer of God and humanity known as Satan or the Devil, it doesn't seem to have been used in ancient times. Early encounters with supernatural beings weren't initially seen as evil; instead, like some claims today, they were viewed as innocent and even respectable. People sought to communicate with spirits from the unseen world, similar to how some do now, believing they were trustworthy and that their responses were valuable and sought after. This perspective was common during the era of classical mythology and in general heathen superstition. Those believed to interact with demons were seen by the gullible masses as an elite group, claiming to possess a superior knowledge compared to the rest of humanity.

It is one of the most remarkable peculiarities of the Hebrew polity, that it denounced such pretended communications as criminal, and subjected the practice to the highest penalties. It was assumed to be dangerous; the welfare of individuals and of society requiring that such pretensions and practices should be abandoned. The observation and experience of mankind have justified this view. In the first ages of Christianity, it was believed that the Divine Being alone was to be sought in prayer for light and guidance by the human soul. Gradually, as the dark ages began to settle upon Christendom, the doctrine of the Devil as the head and ruler of a world of demons, and as able to hold communications with mortals, to interfere in their affairs, and to exercise more or less control over the laws and phenomena of nature, began to become prevalent. It was believed that human beings could enter into alliance with the Prince of the power of the air; become his confederates; join in a league with him and wicked spirits subordinate to him, in undermining the Gospel and overthrowing the Church; and conspire and co-operate[i.327] in rebellion against God. This, of course, was regarded as the most flagrant of crimes, and constituted the real character of the sin denominated "witchcraft."

One of the most striking features of the Hebrew government is that it condemned such false claims as criminal and imposed severe penalties on the practice. It was seen as a threat; the well-being of individuals and society required that these pretensions and actions be abandoned. Humanity’s observations and experiences have supported this perspective. In the early days of Christianity, it was believed that only the Divine Being should be sought in prayer for insight and direction for the human soul. Gradually, as the Dark Ages began to cast their shadow over Christendom, the belief emerged that the Devil was the leader of a realm of demons, able to communicate with humans, interfere in their lives, and exert control over natural laws and events. It was thought that people could form alliances with the Prince of the power of the air, join forces with him, and conspire with wicked spirits under his command to undermine the Gospel and topple the Church, effectively rebelling against God. This was seen as the most egregious of crimes and defined the essence of the sin known as "witchcraft."

As the fullest, most memorable, and, by the notice it has ever since attracted throughout the world, the pre-eminent instance and demonstration of this supposed iniquity was in the crisis that took place in Salem Village in 1692, it justly claims a place in history. The community in which it occurred has been fully described, in its moral, social, and intellectual condition, so far as the materials I have been enabled to obtain have rendered possible. It has, I believe, been made to appear, that, in their training, experience, and traits of character, they were well adapted to give full effect to any excitement, or earnest action of any kind, that could be got up among them,—a people of great energy, courage, and resolution, well prepared to carry out to its natural and legitimate results any movement, and follow established convictions fearlessly to logical conclusions. The experiment of bringing supernaturalism to operate in human affairs, to become a ground of action in society, and to interfere in the relations of life and the dealings of men with each other, was as well tried upon this people as it ever could or can be anywhere.

As the most significant and memorable example of this alleged wrongdoing, which has drawn attention worldwide, the events in Salem Village in 1692 rightfully hold a place in history. The community where this took place has been thoroughly described in terms of its moral, social, and intellectual state, based on the information I've been able to gather. It seems clear that the residents, with their training, experiences, and character traits, were well-suited to amplify any excitement or intense action that might arise among them—a group of people with great energy, courage, and determination, ready to pursue any movement to its natural and logical conclusions. The attempt to bring supernatural influences into human affairs, to serve as a basis for social action and to affect interpersonal relationships, was tested on this community as thoroughly as it could have been anywhere else.

All that remains to be brought to view, before entering upon the details of the narrative, is to give a just and adequate idea of the form and shape in which the general subject of supernaturalism, in its aspect as demonology, lay in the minds of men here at that[i.328] time. To do this, I must give a sketch, as condensed and brief as I can make it, of the formation and progress of opinions and notions touching the subject, until they reached their full demonstration and final explosion, in this neighborhood, at Salem Village, near the close of the seventeenth century.

All that’s left to discuss before diving into the details of the story is to provide a clear and accurate picture of how people viewed the topic of supernaturalism, specifically demonology, during that[i.328] time. To achieve this, I need to outline, as concisely as possible, the development and evolution of beliefs and ideas regarding this topic, until they culminated in their full expression and ultimate outburst in this area, at Salem Village, towards the end of the seventeenth century.

No person who looks around him on the scene in which he is placed, reflects upon the infinite wonders of creation, and meditates upon the equal wonders of his own mind, can be at a loss respecting the sources and causes of superstition. Let him transport himself back to the condition of a primitive and unlettered people, before whom the world appears in all its original and sublime mystery. Science has not lifted to their eyes the curtain behind which the secret operations of nature are carried on. They observe the tides rise and fall, but know not the attractive law that regulates their movements; they contemplate the procession of the seasons, without any conception of the principles and causes that determine and produce their changes; they witness the storm as it rises in its wrath; they listen with awe to the thunder-peal, and gaze with startling terror upon the lightning as it flashes from within the bosom of the black cloud, and are utterly ignorant to what power to attribute the dreadful phenomena; they look upward to the face of the sky, and see the myriad starry hosts that glitter there, and all is to them a mighty maze of dazzling confusion. It is for their fancy to explain, interpret, and fill up the brilliant and magnificent scene.[i.329]

Anyone who takes a moment to look around and reflects on the incredible wonders of the world and the amazing capabilities of their own mind shouldn't be confused about the roots and reasons behind superstition. Imagine going back to a time when people lived simply and were uneducated, staring at a universe filled with mystery. Science hasn’t revealed the hidden workings of nature to them. They see the tides come in and go out but have no idea about the forces that control those movements. They notice the changing seasons without understanding the factors that cause those shifts. They watch storms build with fury, listen in awe to the booming thunder, and feel terror as lightning flashes from dark clouds, completely unaware of what power causes these frightening events. When they look up at the night sky and see the countless stars shining, it all appears to them as a vast and dazzling puzzle. It’s up to their imagination to explain, interpret, and make sense of this brilliant and awe-inspiring scene.[i.329]

The imagination was the faculty the exercise of which was chiefly called for in such a state as this. Before science had traced the operations and unfolded the secrets of nature, man was living in a world full of marvel and mystery. His curiosity was attracted to every object within the reach of his senses; and, in the absence of knowledge, it was imagination alone that could make answer to its inquiries. It is natural to suppose that he would be led to attribute all the movements and operations of the external world which did not appear to be occasioned by the exercise of his own power, or the power of any other animal, to the agency of supernatural beings. We may also conclude, that his belief would not be likely to fix upon the notion of a single overruling Being. Although revelation and science have disclosed to us a beautiful and entire unity and harmony in the creation, the phenomena of the external world would probably impress the unenlightened and unphilosophic observer with the belief that there was a diversity in the powers which caused them. He would imagine the agency of a being of an amiable and beneficent spirit in the bright sunshine, the fresh breeze, and the mild moonlight; and his fancy would suggest to his fears, that a dark, severe, and terrible being was in the ascendant during a day overshadowed by frowning clouds, or a night black with the storm and torn by the tempest.

Imagination was the main ability needed in a situation like this. Before science uncovered how things worked and revealed the secrets of nature, people lived in a world filled with wonders and mysteries. Their curiosity drew them to everything they could sense; and without knowledge, it was imagination that provided answers to their questions. It makes sense to think that they would attribute all the movements and events in the world that didn’t seem to be caused by their own actions or the actions of other animals to supernatural beings. We can also infer that they were unlikely to settle on the idea of a single supreme Being. Even though revelation and science have shown us a beautiful unity and harmony in creation, the phenomena in the external world would likely lead an unenlightened and unphilosophical observer to believe in a range of powers causing them. They would imagine a being of kind and helpful spirit in the bright sunlight, the refreshing breeze, and the gentle moonlight; and their imagination would suggest that a dark, harsh, and frightening being was in control during a day clouded with gloomy skies or a night filled with storms and tumult.

By the aid of such reflections as these, we are easily conducted to a satisfactory and sufficient explanation of the origin of the mythology and fabulous super[i.330]stitions of all ancient and primitive nations. From this the progress is plain, obvious, and immediate to the pretensions of magicians, diviners, sorcerers, conjurers, oracles, soothsayers, augurs, and the whole catalogue of those persons who professed to hold intercourse with higher and spiritual powers. There are several classes into which they may be divided.

With the help of reflections like these, we can easily arrive at a clear and thorough explanation of the origins of the mythology and fanciful super[i.330]stitions of all ancient and primitive cultures. From here, the connection to the claims made by magicians, diviners, sorcerers, conjurers, oracles, soothsayers, augurs, and all those who claimed to communicate with higher spiritual powers becomes straightforward and obvious. They can be grouped into several different classes.

There were those who, to acquire an influence over the people, pretended to possess the confidence, and enjoy the friendship and counsel, of some one or more deities. Such was Numa, the early lawgiver of the Roman State. In order to induce the people to adopt the regulations, institutions, and religious rites he proposed, he made them believe that he had access to a divinity, and received all his plans and ideas as a communication from on high.

There were people who, to gain influence over the masses, pretended to have the trust, friendship, and advice of one or more gods. A prime example is Numa, the early lawmaker of Rome. To persuade the people to accept the rules, institutions, and religious practices he suggested, he convinced them that he had a direct line to a divine being and received all his plans and ideas as messages from above.

Persons who, in consequence of their superior acquirements, were enabled to excel others in any pursuit, or who could foresee and avail themselves of events in the natural world, were liable, without any intention to deceive, to be classed under some of these denominations. For instance, a Roman farmer, Furius Cresinus, surpassed all his neighbors in the skill and success with which he managed his agricultural affairs. He was accordingly accused of using magic arts in the operations of his farm. So far were his neighbors carried by their feelings of envy and jealousy, that they explained the fact of his being able to derive more produce from a small lot of land than they could from large ones, by charging him[i.331] with attracting and drawing off the productions of their fields into his own by the employment of certain mysterious charms. For his defence, as we are informed by Pliny, he produced his strong and well-constructed ploughs, his light and convenient spades, and his sun-burnt daughters, and pointing to them exclaimed: "Here are my charms; this is my magic; these only are the witchcraft I have used." Zoroaster, the great philosopher and astronomer of the ancient East, was charged with divination and magic, merely, it is probable, because he possessed uncommon acquirements.

People who, due to their superior skills, were able to excel in any pursuit, or who could predict and take advantage of events in the natural world, were often mistakenly categorized under various labels without any intent to deceive. For example, a Roman farmer named Furius Cresinus outperformed all his neighbors in his farming success and expertise. As a result, he was accused of using magical practices in his agricultural work. His neighbors, fueled by envy and jealousy, explained his ability to produce more from a small plot of land than they could from larger ones by claiming he was using mysterious charms to draw their crops to his fields. In his defense, as noted by Pliny, he presented his sturdy and well-made plows, his lightweight and handy shovels, and his sun-tanned daughters, exclaiming, "Here are my charms; this is my magic; these are the only witchcraft I've used." Zoroaster, the great philosopher and astronomer from ancient East, was also accused of divination and magic, likely simply because he had exceptional knowledge.

There were persons who had acquired an extraordinary amount of natural knowledge, and, for the sake of being regarded with wonder and awe by the people, pretended to obtain their superior endowments from supernatural beings. They affected the name and character of sorcerers, diviners, and soothsayers. It is easy to conceive of the early existence and the great influence of such impostors. Patient observation, and often mere accident, would suggest discoveries of the existence and operation of natural causes in producing phenomena before ascribed to superhuman agency. The knowledge thus acquired would be cautiously concealed, and cunningly used, to create astonishment and win admiration. Its fortunate possessors were enabled to secure the confidence, obedience, and even reverence, of the benighted and deceived people.

There were individuals who had gained an impressive amount of natural knowledge, and, in order to be seen as awe-inspiring by others, pretended that their extraordinary abilities came from supernatural forces. They took on the roles of sorcerers, diviners, and soothsayers. It’s easy to imagine how such frauds existed and had a significant impact. Careful observation, and often pure chance, would lead to discoveries about natural causes that explained events previously attributed to supernatural powers. The knowledge they gained was kept hidden and used cleverly to create amazement and earn admiration. Those who possessed this knowledge managed to gain the trust, obedience, and even respect of the misled and unsuspecting people.

Every one, indeed, who could discover a secret of[i.332] nature, and keep it secret, was able to impose himself on the world as being allied with supernatural powers. Hence arose the whole host of diviners, astrologers, soothsayers, and oracles. After having once acquired possession of the credulous faith of the people, they could impose upon them almost without limit.

Everyone who could uncover a secret of[i.332] nature and keep it hidden was able to present themselves to the world as though connected to supernatural forces. This led to the rise of a whole group of diviners, astrologers, soothsayers, and oracles. Once they gained the trusting belief of the people, they could deceive them almost endlessly.

Those who pretended to hold this kind of intercourse with divinity became, as a natural consequence, the priests of the nation, constituted a distinct and regular profession, and perpetuated their body by the admission of new members, to whom they explained their arts, and communicated their knowledge. While they were continually discovering and applying the secret principles and laws of nature, and the people were kept in utter ignorance and darkness, it is no wonder that they reached a great and unparalleled degree of power over the mass of the population. In this manner we account for the origin, and trace the history, of the Chaldean priests in Assyria, the Bramins of India, the Magi of Persia, the Oracles of Greece, the Augurs of Italy, the Druids of Britain, and the Pow-wows, Prophets, or "Medicins," as they sometimes called them, among our Indians.

Those who claimed to have this kind of connection with the divine became, naturally, the priests of the nation, forming a distinct and established profession, and continued their group by welcoming new members, to whom they taught their skills and shared their knowledge. While they constantly discovered and applied the hidden principles and laws of nature, keeping the people in total ignorance and darkness, it’s no surprise that they gained a significant and unmatched level of control over the general population. This explains the origin and traces the history of the Chaldean priests in Assyria, the Brahmins of India, the Magi of Persia, the Oracles of Greece, the Augurs of Italy, the Druids of Britain, and the Pow-wows, Prophets, or "Medicins," as they were sometimes called, among our Indigenous peoples.

It is probable that the witches mentioned in the Scriptures were of this description. Neither in sacred nor profane ancient history do we find what was understood in the days of our ancestors by witchcraft, which meant a formal and actual compact with the great Prince of evil beings. The sorcery of antiquity[i.333] consisted in pretending to possess certain mysterious charms, and to do by their means, or by the co-operation of superhuman spirits, without any reference to their character as evil or good beings, what transcends the action of mere natural powers.

It’s likely that the witches referenced in the Scriptures fit this description. In neither sacred nor secular ancient history do we find what our ancestors understood as witchcraft, which involved a formal and actual agreement with the great Prince of evil beings. The sorcery of ancient times[i.333] was about pretending to have certain mysterious charms and using them, or the help of supernatural spirits, to do things that go beyond what natural powers can achieve, without considering whether those spirits were good or evil.

The witch of Endor, for instance, was a conjurer and necromancer, rather than a witch. By referring to the 28th chapter of 1 Samuel, where the interview between her and Saul is related, you will find no ground for the opinion that the being from whom she pretended to receive her mysterious power was Satan. Saul, as the ruler of a people who were under the special government, and enjoyed the peculiar protection of the true God, had forbidden, under the sanction of the highest penalties, the exercise of the arts of divination and sorcery within his jurisdiction. Some time after this, the unfortunate monarch was overtaken by trouble and distress. His enemies had risen up, and were gathered in fearful strength around him. His "heart greatly trembled," a dark and gloomy presentiment came over his spirit, and his bosom was convulsed by an agony of solicitude. He turned toward his God for light and strength. He applied for relief to the priests of the altar, and to the prophets of the Most High; but his prayers were unanswered, and his efforts vain. In his sorrow and apprehension, he appealed to a woman who was reputed to have supernatural powers, and to hold communion with spiritual beings; thus violating his own law, and departing from duty and fidelity to his God. He[i.334] begged her to recall Samuel to life, that he might be comforted and instructed by him. She pretended to comply with his request; but, before she could commence her usual mysterious operations, Samuel arose! and the forlorn, wretched, and heart-broken king listened to his tremendous doom, as it was uttered by the spirit of the departed prophet.

The witch of Endor was actually more of a conjurer and necromancer than a witch. If you check out the 28th chapter of 1 Samuel, where the meeting between her and Saul is described, you won’t find any evidence to support the idea that the source of her supposed mysterious powers was Satan. Saul, as the leader of a people who were specifically governed and enjoyed the special protection of the true God, had banned the practice of divination and sorcery with severe penalties in his territory. Later on, the troubled king found himself in a tough spot. His enemies had risen against him and were gathered in overwhelming force. His "heart greatly trembled," a dark and ominous feeling swept over him, and he was filled with anxiety. He turned to God for guidance and strength. He sought help from the priests at the altar and the prophets of the Most High, but his prayers went unanswered, and his efforts were futile. In his despair and fear, he turned to a woman known for her supernatural abilities and connection with spiritual beings, thus breaking his own law and straying from his duty to God. He begged her to bring Samuel back to life so he could be comforted and advised by him. She pretended to comply, but before she could start her usual mysterious rituals, Samuel appeared! The forlorn, wretched, and heartbroken king listened as the spirit of the departed prophet revealed his dire fate.

I have alluded particularly to the witch of Endor, because she will serve to illustrate the sorcery or divination of antiquity. She was probably possessed of some secret knowledge of natural properties; was skilful in the use of her arts and pretended charms; had, perhaps, the peculiar powers of a ventriloquist; and, by successful imposture, had acquired an uncommon degree of notoriety, and the entire confidence of the public. She professed to be in alliance with supernatural beings, and, by their assistance, to raise the dead.

I specifically mentioned the witch of Endor because she helps demonstrate the sorcery or divination of ancient times. She likely had some secret knowledge of natural properties, was skilled in her craft and fake charms, and possibly had the unique abilities of a ventriloquist. Through her successful deception, she gained a notable reputation and the complete trust of the public. She claimed to be in league with supernatural beings and, with their help, to bring back the dead.

This passage has afforded a topic for a great deal of discussion among interpreters. It seems to me, on the face of the narrative, to suggest the following view of the transaction: The woman was an impostor. When she summoned the spirit of Samuel, instead of the results of her magic lantern, or of whatever contrivances she may have had, by the immediate agency of the Almighty the spirit of Samuel really rose, to the consternation and horror of the pretended necromancer. The writer appears to have indicated this as the proper interpretation of the scene, by saying, "that, when the woman saw Samuel, she cried with a loud[i.335] voice;" thus giving evidence of alarm and surprise totally different from the deportment of such pretenders on such occasions: they used rather to exhibit joy at the success of their arts, and a proud composure and dignified complacency in the control they were believed to exercise over the spirits that appeared to have obeyed their call. Sir Walter Scott took this view of the transaction. His opinion, it is true, would be considered more important in any other department than that of biblical interpretation: on all questions, however, connected with the spiritual world of fancy and with its history, he must be allowed to speak, if not with the authority, at least with the tone of a master. This wonderful author, in the infinite profusion and variety of his productions, published a volume upon Demonology and Witchcraft: it is, of course, entertaining and instructive to all who are curious to know the capacity and to appreciate the operations of the human imagination.

This passage has sparked a lot of discussion among interpreters. To me, based on the narrative, it suggests the following view of the event: The woman was a fraud. When she summoned the spirit of Samuel, instead of the results of her tricks or whatever methods she had, the spirit of Samuel truly appeared, much to the shock and horror of the so-called necromancer. The writer seems to indicate that this is the correct interpretation of the scene by stating, "that, when the woman saw Samuel, she cried with a loud[i.335] voice;" showing a level of alarm and surprise that is completely different from how such fakes usually behave in similar situations: they typically express delight at the success of their tricks, along with a self-satisfied composure and pride in the control they are believed to have over the spirits that responded to them. Sir Walter Scott held this view of the event. While his opinion might seem more significant in other fields than in biblical interpretation, he should still be acknowledged for his insight on matters related to the spiritual realm of imagination and its history. This remarkable author, in the vast array of his works, published a volume on Demonology and Witchcraft: it is both entertaining and enlightening for anyone curious about the capabilities and workings of human imagination.

It will be regarded by intelligent and judicious persons as a circumstance of importance in reference to the view now given of the transaction in which the witch of Endor acts the leading part, that Hugh Farmer, beyond all question the most learned, discreet, and profound writer on such subjects, is inclined to throw the weight of his authority in its favor. His ample and elaborate discussion of the question is to be seen in his work on Miracles, chap. iv. sec. 2.

It will be seen by smart and careful individuals as an important detail regarding the perspective now presented on the event where the witch of Endor plays a central role, that Hugh Farmer, without a doubt the most knowledgeable, sensible, and insightful author on such topics, is inclined to support it with his authority. His thorough and detailed analysis of the issue can be found in his work on Miracles, chap. iv. sec. 2.

Among the heathen nations of antiquity, the art of divination consisted, to a great degree, in the magical[i.336] use of mysterious charms. Many plants were considered as possessed of wonderful virtues, and there was scarcely a limit to the supposed power of those persons who knew how to use and apply them skilfully. Virgil, in his eighth eclogue, thus speaks of this species of sorcery:—

Among the pagan nations of ancient times, the art of divination largely involved the magical[i.336] use of mysterious charms. Many plants were believed to have amazing powers, and there was hardly any limit to what those who knew how to use and apply them skillfully could do. Virgil, in his eighth eclogue, discusses this type of sorcery:—

"These herbs were given to me by Moeris
And poisons were picked at Pontus;
For there they grow and multiply. And don’t do that among us:
With these, she made herself become A wolf, and hid her in the woods; She brought souls up from their tombs,
Removing corn from where it was growing.

In the fourth Æneid, the lovesick Tyrian queen is thus made to describe the magic which was then believed to be practised:—

In the fourth Æneid, the lovesick queen of Tyre is made to describe the magic that was believed to be practiced at that time:—

"Rejoice," she said, "inspired from above,
I will either win my lover or lose my love; Near the rising Atlas, beside the setting sun Long stretches of Ethiopian climates extend:
I have discovered a Massylian priestess,
Respected for age, famous for magical skills:
The Hesperian temple was her reliable refuge; It was she who provided food for the restless dragon; She taught poppy seeds to soak in honey, Regained his anger and calmed him into sleep;
She looked at the golden fruit. Her charms are released. The chains of love, or set them in the mind; She halts the flood, leaving the stream empty,
Repels the stars and carries the sky backward.
The yawning earth responds to her call,
"Pale ghosts rise, and mountain ashes drop."
[i.337]

Tibullus, in the second elegy of his first book, gives the following account of the powers ascribed to a magician:—

Tibullus, in the second elegy of his first book, gives the following account of the powers ascribed to a magician:—

"She removes each star from his throne,
And turns back the raging waves;
With her charms, she makes the earth to bend, And lifts souls out of their graves;
She burns men's bones like a fire,
And brings down the lights of Heaven,
And makes it snow whenever she wants "Even in the middle of summer."

These views continued to hold undisturbed dominion over the people during a long succession of centuries. As the twilight of the dark ages began to settle upon Christendom, superstition, that night-blooming plant, extended itself rapidly, and in all directions, over the surface of the world. While every thing else drooped and withered, it struck deeper its roots, spread wider its branches, and brought forth more abundantly its fruit. The unnumbered fables of Greek and Roman mythology, the arts of augury and divination, the visions of oriental romance, the fanciful and attenuated theories of the later philosophy, the abstract and spiritual doctrines of Platonism, and all the grosser and wilder conceptions of the northern conquerors of the Roman Empire, became mingled together in the faith of the inhabitants of the European kingdoms. From this multifarious combination, the infinitely diversified popular superstitions of the modern nations have sprung.

These beliefs continued to dominate the people for many centuries. As the dark ages began to fade in Christendom, superstition, like a night-blooming plant, spread rapidly in all directions across the world. While everything else faded and died, it dug its roots deeper, spread its branches wider, and produced more fruit. The countless myths of Greek and Roman mythology, the practices of divination and fortune-telling, the tales of eastern romance, the intricate theories of later philosophy, the abstract and spiritual ideas of Platonism, and all the wild and coarse beliefs of the northern invaders of the Roman Empire, became intertwined in the beliefs of the people of European kingdoms. From this diverse mix, the countless popular superstitions of modern nations were born.

We first begin to trace the clear outlines of the doc[i.338]trine of witchcraft not far from the commencement of the Christian era. It presupposes the belief of the Devil. I shall not enter upon the question, whether the Scriptures, properly interpreted, require the belief of the existence of such a being. Directing our attention solely to profane sources of information, we discover the heathen origin of the belief of the existence of the Devil in the ancient systems of oriental philosophy. Early observers of nature in the East were led to the conclusion, that the world was a divided empire, ruled by the alternate or simultaneous energy of two great antagonist principles or beings, one perfectly good, and the other perfectly bad. It was for a long time, and perhaps is at this day, a prevalent faith among Christians, that the Bible teaches a similar doctrine; that it presents, to our adoration and obedience, a being of infinite perfections in the Deity; and to our abhorrence and our fears, a being infinitely wicked, and of great power, in the Devil.

We begin to outline the doctrine of witchcraft not long after the start of the Christian era. It assumes the belief in the Devil. I won’t discuss whether the Scriptures, when interpreted correctly, necessitate believing in such a being. Focusing only on secular sources, we find the pagan origins of the belief in the Devil in ancient Eastern philosophies. Early nature observers in the East concluded that the world was a divided domain, governed by the alternating or simultaneous forces of two opposing principles or beings—one completely good and the other completely evil. For a long time, and perhaps still today, many Christians have believed that the Bible teaches a similar idea; that it presents to us a being of infinite perfection in God, and to our disgust and fear, a being of immense wickedness and power in the Devil.

It is obvious, that, when the entire enginery of supernaturalism was organized in adaptation to the idea of the Devil, and demonology became synonymous with diabolism, the credulity and superstition of mankind would give a wide extension to that form of belief. It soon occupied a large space in the theories of religion and the fancies of the people, and got to be a leading element in the life of society. It made its impress on the forms of speech, and many of the phrases to which it gave rise still remain in familiar use. It figured in the rituals of religion, in the paraphernalia of public shows,[i.339] and in fireside tales. It afforded leading characters to the drama in the miracle plays and the moral plays, as they were called, at successive periods. It offered a ready weapon to satire, and also to defamation. Gerbert, a native of France, who was elevated to the pontificate about the close of the tenth century, under the name of Sylvester II., is eulogized by Mosheim as the first great restorer of science and literature. He was a person of an extensive and sublime genius, of wonderful attainments in learning, particularly mathematics, geometry, and arithmetic. He broke the profound sleep of the dark ages, and awakened the torpid intellect of the European nations. His efforts in this direction roused the apprehensions and resentment of the monks; and they circulated, after Gerbert's death, and made the ignorant masses believe the story, that he had obtained his rapid promotion in the Church by the practice of the black art, which he disguised under the show of learning; that he secured the Archbishopric of Ravenna by bribery and corruption; and that, finally, he made a bargain with Satan, promising him his soul after death, on condition that he (Satan) should put forth his great influence over the cardinals in such a manner as would secure his election to the throne of St. Peter. The arrangement was carried into successful operation. Sylvester, the monks averred, consulted the Devil through the medium of a brazen head during his whole reign, and enjoyed his faithful friendship and unwavering patronage. But, when His Holiness came to die, he endeavored to defraud Satan[i.340] of his rightful claim to his soul, by repenting, and acknowledging his sin. This illustrates the way in which the popular idea of the Devil was used to awaken ridicule and gratify malignity.

It’s clear that the entire machinery of supernaturalism was set up to fit the idea of the Devil, and demonology became synonymous with evil practices, leading to widespread belief due to people’s gullibility and superstition. This concept quickly took up a significant part of religious theories and popular imagination, becoming a key element in society’s life. It influenced language, and many expressions it created are still commonly used today. It appeared in religious rituals, at public events, and in stories told around the fireplace. It provided main characters for dramas in miracle plays and moral plays throughout various times. It became a powerful tool for satire and slander. Gerbert, from France, rose to the papacy around the end of the tenth century as Sylvester II, and Mosheim praises him as the first great restorer of science and literature. He was a man of exceptional and lofty genius, with remarkable knowledge, especially in mathematics, geometry, and arithmetic. He broke the long stagnation of the dark ages and stimulated the dormant intellect of European nations. His work sparked fear and resentment among monks; after Gerbert's death, they spread a tale that he had advanced quickly in the Church by practicing black magic disguised as learning, that he secured the Archbishopric of Ravenna through bribery and corruption, and that ultimately, he made a deal with Satan, promising his soul after death in exchange for Satan’s influence to secure his election to the papacy. The plan was successfully executed. The monks claimed that Sylvester consulted the Devil through a bronze head throughout his entire reign, enjoying his steadfast friendship and support. However, when His Holiness was near death, he tried to cheat Satan out of his rightful claim to his soul by repenting and confessing his sins. This shows how the popular concept of the Devil was used to provoke ridicule and fulfill malicious intent.

The natural and ultimate effect of the diffusion of Christianity was to overthrow, or rather to revolutionize, the whole system of incantation and sorcery.

The natural and ultimate effect of spreading Christianity was to overthrow, or rather to completely change, the entire system of incantation and sorcery.

In heathen countries, as in the East at present and with those among us who profess to hold communications with spirits, no reproach or sentiment of disapprobation, as has already been observed, was necessarily connected with the arts of divination; for the supernatural beings with whom intercourse was alleged to be had were not, with a few exceptions, regarded as evil beings. The persons who were thought to be skilful in their use were, on the contrary, held in great esteem, and looked upon with reverence. Magicians and philosophers were convertible and synonymous terms. Learned and scientific men were induced to encourage, and turn to their own advantage, the popular credulity that ascribed their extraordinary skill to their connection with spiritual and divine beings. At length, however, they found themselves placed in a very uncomfortable predicament by the prevalence of the new theology. It was exceedingly difficult to dispel the delusion, and correct the error they had previously found it for their interest to perpetuate in the minds of the community. They could not convince them that their knowledge was acquired from natural sources, or their operations[i.341] conducted solely by the aid of natural causes and laws. The people would not surrender the belief, that the results of scientific experiments, and the accuracy of predictions of physical phenomena, were secured by the assistance of supernatural beings.

In pagan countries, like in the East today and among those of us who claim to communicate with spirits, there was no shame or disapproval associated with the practice of divination; as previously noted, the supernatural beings people said they interacted with were generally not viewed as evil, with a few exceptions. Those believed to be skillful in these practices were, on the contrary, highly respected and revered. Magicians and philosophers were seen as interchangeable terms. Educated and scientific individuals often encouraged and exploited the public's belief that their remarkable abilities were linked to spiritual and divine entities. However, they eventually found themselves in a difficult position due to the rise of new theological ideas. It became extremely challenging to dispel the beliefs and correct the misconceptions they had earlier promoted for their own benefit. They couldn't convince the public that their knowledge came from natural sources or that their work[i.341] was conducted solely through natural causes and laws. The people refused to abandon the belief that the outcomes of scientific experiments and the precision of predictions about physical phenomena were achieved with the help of supernatural beings.

As the doctrines of the gospel gradually undermined the popular belief in other spiritual beings inferior to the Deity, and were at the same time supposed to teach the existence and extensively diffused energy of an almost infinite and omnipotent agent of evil, it was exceedingly natural, nay, it necessarily followed, that the credulity and superstition which had led to the supposition of an alliance between philosophers and spiritual beings should settle down into a full conviction that the Devil was the being with whom they were thus confederated. The consequence was that they were charged with witchcraft, and many fell victims to the general prejudice and abhorrence occasioned by the imputation. The influence of this state of things was soon seen: it was one of the most effectual causes of the rapid diffusion of knowledge in modern times. Philosophers and men of science became as anxious to explain and publish their discoveries as they had been in former ages to conceal and cover them with mystery. The following instances will be sufficient to illustrate the correctness of these views.

As the teachings of the gospel gradually weakened the common belief in other spiritual beings that were less powerful than God, and at the same time suggested the existence and widespread influence of a nearly infinite and all-powerful evil force, it was completely natural, even inevitable, that the gullibility and superstition which had led to the idea of a connection between philosophers and spiritual beings would turn into a strong belief that the Devil was the entity they were allied with. As a result, they were accused of witchcraft, and many became victims of the widespread bias and hatred caused by this accusation. The impact of this situation was soon evident: it was one of the most effective reasons for the rapid spread of knowledge in modern times. Philosophers and scientists became just as eager to explain and share their discoveries as they had once been to hide and shroud them in mystery. The following examples will be enough to illustrate the validity of these views.

In the thirteenth century, Roger Bacon was charged with witchcraft on account of his discoveries in optics, chemistry, and astronomy; and, although he did what[i.342] he could to circulate and explain his own acquirements, he could not escape a papal denunciation, and two long and painful imprisonments. In 1305, Arnold de Villa Nova, a learned physician and philosopher, was burned at Padua, by order of inquisitors, on the charge of witchcraft. He was eighty years of age. Ten years afterwards, Peter Apon, also of Padua, who had made extraordinary progress in knowledge, was accused of the same crime, and condemned to death, but expired previous to the time appointed for his execution.

In the 13th century, Roger Bacon was accused of witchcraft because of his discoveries in optics, chemistry, and astronomy. Despite his efforts to spread and explain his work, he couldn't avoid a papal condemnation and endured two lengthy and painful imprisonments. In 1305, Arnold de Villa Nova, a knowledgeable physician and philosopher, was burned at the stake in Padua by the order of inquisitors on witchcraft charges. He was eighty years old. Ten years later, Peter Apon, also from Padua and known for his impressive knowledge, was accused of the same crime and sentenced to death, but he died before his execution date.

I will now present a brief sketch of the most noticeable facts relating to the subject in Europe and Great Britain previous to the close of the seventeenth century. Some writers have computed that thirty thousand persons were executed for this supposed crime, within one hundred and fifty years. It will of course be in my power to mention only a few instances.

I will now give a brief overview of the most notable facts related to the topic in Europe and Great Britain before the end of the seventeenth century. Some authors estimate that thirty thousand people were executed for this alleged crime over a period of one hundred and fifty years. Naturally, I can only mention a few examples.

In 1484, Pope Innocent the Eighth issued a bull encouraging and requiring the arrest and punishment of persons suspected of witchcraft. From this moment, the prosecutions became frequent and the victims numerous in every country. The very next year, forty-one aged females were consigned to the flames in one nation; and, not long after, a hundred were burned by one inquisition in the devoted valleys of Piedmont; forty-eight were burned in Ravensburg in five years; and, in the year 1515, five hundred were burned at Geneva in three months! One writer de[i.343]clares that "almost an infinite number" were burned for witchcraft in France,—a thousand in a single diocese! These sanguinary and horrible transactions were promoted and sanctioned by theological hatred and rancor. It was soon perceived that there was no kind of difficulty in clearing the Church of heretics by hanging or burning them all as witches! The imputation of witchcraft could be fixed upon any one with the greatest facility. In the earlier part of the fifteenth century, the Earl of Bedford, having taken the celebrated Joan of Arc prisoner, put her to death on this charge. She had been almost adored by the people rescued by her romantic valor, and was universally known among them by the venerable title of "Holy Maid of God;" but no difficulty was experienced in procuring evidence enough to lead her to the stake as a servant and confederate of Satan! Luther was just beginning his attack upon the papal power, and he was instantly accused of being in confederacy with the Devil.

In 1484, Pope Innocent VIII issued a decree encouraging and mandating the arrest and punishment of people suspected of witchcraft. From that point on, prosecutions became common and the number of victims rose in every country. The very next year, forty-one elderly women were burned in one nation, and shortly after, a hundred were executed by an inquisition in the devoted valleys of Piedmont; forty-eight were burned in Ravensburg over five years; and in 1515, five hundred were executed at Geneva in just three months! One writer claims that "almost an infinite number" were burned for witchcraft in France—a thousand in a single diocese! These bloody and horrific events were fueled and approved by theological hatred and malice. It soon became clear that there was no difficulty in ridding the Church of heretics by hanging or burning them all as witches! The accusation of witchcraft could easily be made against anyone. In the early part of the fifteenth century, the Earl of Bedford captured the famous Joan of Arc and executed her on this charge. She had been almost worshipped by the people she rescued with her heroic bravery and was widely known by the honorable title of "Holy Maid of God"; however, it was not hard to find enough evidence to send her to the stake as a servant and ally of Satan! Luther was just beginning his challenge against papal authority, and he was quickly accused of being in league with the Devil.

In 1534, Elizabeth Barton, "the Maid of Kent," was executed for witchcraft in England, together with seven men who had been confederate with her. In 1541 the Earl of Hungerford was beheaded for inquiring of a witch how long Henry VIII. would live. In 1549 it was made the duty of bishops, by Archbishop Cranmer's articles of visitation, to inquire of their clergy, whether "they know of any that use charms, sorcery, enchantments, witchcraft, soothsaying, or any like craft invented by the Devil." In 1563[i.344] the King of Sweden carried four witches with him, as a part of his armament, to aid him in his wars with the Danes. In 1576, seventeen or eighteen were condemned in Essex, in England. A single judge or inquisitor, Remigius, condemned and burned nine hundred within fifteen years, from 1580 to 1595, in the single district of Lorraine; and as many more fled out of the country; whole villages were depopulated, and fifteen persons destroyed themselves rather than submit to the torture which, under the administration of this successor of Draco and rival of Jeffries, was the first step taken in the trial of an accused person. The application of the rack and other instruments of torment, in the examination of prisoners, was recommended by him in a work on witchcraft. He observes that "scarcely any one was known to be brought to repentance and confession but by these means"!

In 1534, Elizabeth Barton, known as "the Maid of Kent," was executed for witchcraft in England, along with seven men who were associated with her. In 1541, the Earl of Hungerford was beheaded for asking a witch how long Henry VIII would live. In 1549, Archbishop Cranmer's articles of visitation made it mandatory for bishops to ask their clergy whether they knew of anyone using charms, sorcery, enchantments, witchcraft, soothsaying, or any similar practices invented by the Devil. In 1563[i.344], the King of Sweden brought four witches with him as part of his military efforts against the Danes. In 1576, around seventeen or eighteen people were condemned in Essex, England. A single judge, Remigius, condemned and executed nine hundred individuals over fifteen years, from 1580 to 1595, in the region of Lorraine; many more fled the country, entire villages were depopulated, and fifteen individuals took their own lives rather than face the torture that was the first step in the trial of an accused person under the rule of this successor of Draco and rival of Jeffries. He recommended the use of the rack and other torture devices during prisoner interrogations in a work on witchcraft, noting that "hardly anyone was ever known to repent and confess without these methods"!

The most eminent persons of the sixteenth century were believers in the popular superstition respecting the existence of compacts between Satan and human beings, and in the notions associated with it. The excellent Melancthon was an interpreter of dreams and caster of nativities. Luther was a strenuous supporter of the doctrine of witchcraft, and seems to have seriously believed that he had had frequent interviews with the arch-enemy himself, and had disputed with him on points of theology, face to face. In his "Table-Talk," he gives the following account of his intimacy with the Devil: speaking of his confinement in the Castle of Wartburg, he says, "Among other things[i.345] they brought me hazel-nuts, which I put into a box, and sometimes I used to crack and eat of them. In the night-times, my gentleman, the Devil, came and got the nuts out of the box, and cracked them against one of the bedposts, making a very great noise and rumbling about my bed; but I regarded him nothing at all: when afterwards I began to slumber, then he kept such a racket and rumbling upon the chamber stairs, as if many empty barrels and hogsheads had been tumbled down." Kepler, whose name is immortalized by being associated with the laws he discovered that regulate the orbits of the heavenly bodies, was a zealous advocate of astrology; and his great predecessor and master, the Prince of Astronomers, as he is called, Tycho Brahe, kept an idiot in his presence, fed him from his own table, with his own hand, and listened to his incoherent, unmeaning, and fatuous expressions as to a revelation from the spiritual world.

The most notable figures of the sixteenth century were convinced of popular superstitions regarding deals between Satan and humans, along with the beliefs connected to it. The remarkable Melancthon acted as a dream interpreter and astrologer. Luther was a strong advocate for the belief in witchcraft and seemed to genuinely think he had frequent encounters with the devil himself, debating theological points directly with him. In his "Table-Talk," he shares his experiences with the Devil: discussing his time in the Castle of Wartburg, he says, "Among other things[i.345] they brought me hazel-nuts, which I put into a box, and sometimes I would crack and eat them. At night, my friend, the Devil, would come, take the nuts from the box, and crack them against one of the bedposts, making a loud noise and causing a ruckus around my bed; but I didn't pay him any attention at all: when I eventually started to fall asleep, he would cause such a racket on the staircase, it sounded like many empty barrels and hogsheads were being thrown down." Kepler, whose name is remembered for the laws he discovered that govern the orbits of celestial bodies, was a passionate supporter of astrology; and his great predecessor and mentor, known as the Prince of Astronomers, Tycho Brahe, kept a fool in his company, fed him from his own table, and listened to his nonsensical ramblings as if they were revelations from the spiritual realm.

The following is the language addressed to Queen Elizabeth by Bishop Jewell. He was one of the most learned persons of his age, and is to this day regarded as the mighty champion of the Church of England, and of the cause of the Reformation in Great Britain. He was the terrible foe of Roman-Catholic superstition. "It may please Your Grace," says he, "to understand that witches and sorcerers within these four last years are marvellously increased within Your Grace's realm; Your Grace's subjects pine away even unto the death; their color fadeth, their flesh rotteth, their speech is benumbed, their senses are bereft. I[i.346] pray God," continues the courtly preacher, "they never practise further than upon the subject." The petition of the polite prelate appears to have been answered. The virgin queen resisted inexorably the arts of all charmers, and is thought never to have been bewitched in her life.

The following is the message directed to Queen Elizabeth by Bishop Jewell. He was one of the most knowledgeable individuals of his time and is still considered a strong advocate for the Church of England and the Reformation in Great Britain. He was a fierce opponent of Roman Catholic superstition. "Your Grace should know," he says, "that witches and sorcerers have remarkably increased in Your Grace's kingdom over the past four years; Your Grace's subjects are wasting away to the point of death; their color is fading, their flesh is rotting, their speech is frozen, and their senses are taken from them. I[i.346] pray to God," continues the courteous preacher, "that they do not practice beyond this." The request of the polite bishop seems to have been granted. The virgin queen firmly resisted the tricks of all charmers and is believed to never have been bewitched in her life.

It is probable that Spenser, in his "Faërie Queen," has described with accuracy the witch of the sixteenth century in the following beautiful lines:—

It’s likely that Spenser, in his "Faërie Queen," has accurately depicted the witch of the sixteenth century in the following beautiful lines:—

"In a dark, gloomy valley, she found
A small cottage made of sticks and weeds,
In a cozy manner, surrounded by grass,
In which a witch lived in ugly weeds
And deliberate desire, completely unconcerned about her needs; So choosing solitude to live Isolated from all her neighbors, her wicked deeds And she might conceal dark skills from others,
"And hurt far away whoever she envied."

So prone were some to indulge in the contemplation of the agency of the Devil and his myrmidons, that they strained, violated, and perverted the language of Scripture to make it speak of them. Thus they insisted that the word "Philistines" meant confederates and subjects of the Devil, and accordingly interpreted the expression, "I will deliver you into the hands of the Philistines," thus, "I will deliver you into the hands of demons."

Some people were so quick to think about the role of the Devil and his followers that they twisted and misused the language of Scripture to support their ideas. They argued that the word "Philistines" referred to allies and followers of the Devil, interpreting the phrase, "I will deliver you into the hands of the Philistines," to mean, "I will deliver you into the hands of demons."

I cannot describe the extent to which the superstition we are reviewing was carried about the close of the sixteenth century in stronger language than the following, from a candid and learned French Roman-[i.347]Catholic historian: "So great folly," says he, "did then oppress the miserable world, that Christians believed greater absurdities than could ever be imposed upon the heathens."

I can't express how widespread the superstition we're discussing was by the end of the sixteenth century better than this quote from an honest and knowledgeable French Roman Catholic historian: "Such great foolishness," he says, "overwhelmed the unfortunate world, that Christians believed in greater absurdities than could ever be forced upon the pagans."


We have now arrived at the commencement of the seventeenth century, within which the prosecutions for witchcraft took place in Salem. To show the opinions of the clergy of the English Church at this time, I will quote the following curious canon, made by the convocation in 1603:—

We have now reached the start of the seventeenth century, during which the witch trials occurred in Salem. To illustrate the views of the clergy of the English Church at this time, I will quote the following interesting canon made by the convocation in 1603:—

"That no minister or ministers, without license and direction of the bishop, under his hand and seal obtained, attempt, upon any pretence whatsoever, either of possession or obsession, by fasting and prayer, to cast out any devil or devils, under pain of the imputation of imposture or cozenage, and deposition from the ministry." In the same year, licenses were actually granted, as required above, by the Bishop of Chester; and several ministers were duly authorized by him to cast out devils!

"That no minister or ministers, without the bishop's license and guidance, obtained with his signature and seal, should try, for any reason, whether claiming possession or obsession, to cast out any devil or devils, through fasting and prayer, under the risk of being accused of deceit or trickery, and removed from their ministry." In the same year, licenses were actually granted, as required above, by the Bishop of Chester; and several ministers were officially authorized by him to cast out devils!

During this whole century, there were trials and executions for witchcraft in all civilized countries. More than two hundred were hanged in England, thousands were burned in Scotland, and still larger numbers in various parts of Europe.

During this entire century, there were trials and executions for witchcraft in all civilized countries. More than two hundred were hanged in England, thousands were burned in Scotland, and even larger numbers in various parts of Europe.

Edward Fairfax, the poet, was one of the most accomplished men in England. He is celebrated as the translator of Tasso's "Jerusalem Delivered," in allusion to which work Collins thus speaks of him:[i.348]

Edward Fairfax, the poet, was one of the most accomplished individuals in England. He is known for translating Tasso's "Jerusalem Delivered," which is referenced by Collins in this way:[i.348]

"How have I sat, while the thoughtful wind played," To hear your harp, played by British Fairfax,
Leading poet, whose confident mind "Believed in the magical wonders that he sang about."

This same Fairfax prosecuted six of his neighbors for bewitching his children. The trials took place about the time the first pilgrims came to America.

This same Fairfax prosecuted six of his neighbors for supposedly bewitching his children. The trials happened around the time the first pilgrims arrived in America.

In 1634, Urbain Grandier, a very learned and eminent French minister, rendered himself odious to the bigoted nuns of Loudun, by his moderation towards heretics. Secretly instigated, as has been supposed, by Cardinal Richelieu, against whom he had written a satire, they pretended to be bewitched by him, and procured his prosecution: he was tortured upon the rack until he swooned, and then was burned at the stake. In 1640, Dr. Lamb, of London, was murdered in the streets of that city by the mob, on suspicion of witchcraft. Several were hanged in England, only a few years before the proceedings commenced in Salem. Some were tried by water ordeal, and drowned in the process, in Suffolk, Essex, Cambridgeshire, and Northamptonshire, at the very time the executions were going on here; and a considerable number of capital punishments took place in various parts of Great Britain, some years after the prosecution had ceased in America.

In 1634, Urbain Grandier, a highly educated and well-known French minister, made himself hated by the bigoted nuns of Loudun because of his leniency towards heretics. It’s believed that he was secretly encouraged by Cardinal Richelieu, who he had criticized in a satire. The nuns claimed he had bewitched them and pushed for his prosecution: he was tortured on the rack until he passed out, and then he was burned at the stake. In 1640, Dr. Lamb from London was killed in the streets by a mob on suspicion of witchcraft. Several people were hanged in England just a few years before the trials started in Salem. Some were subjected to water trials and drowned in various locations, including Suffolk, Essex, Cambridgeshire, and Northamptonshire, right when the executions were happening here; and a significant number of capital punishments occurred in different parts of Great Britain several years after the trials had ended in America.

The trials and executions in England and Scotland were attended by circumstances as painful, as barbarous, and in all respects as disgraceful, as those occurring in Salem. Every species of torture seems to[i.349] have been resorted to: the principles of reason, justice, and humanity were set at defiance, and the whole body of the people kept in a state of the most fierce excitement against the sufferers. Indeed, there is nothing more distressing in the contemplation of these sanguinary proceedings than the spirit of deliberate and unmitigated cruelty with which they were conducted. No symptoms of pity, compassion, or sympathy, appear to have been manifested by the judges or the community. The following account of the expenses attending the execution of two persons convicted of witchcraft in Scotland, shows in what a cool, business-like style the affair was managed:—

The trials and executions in England and Scotland were marked by circumstances that were as painful, barbaric, and disgraceful as those in Salem. Every type of torture seems to[i.349] have been used: the principles of reason, justice, and humanity were completely ignored, and the entire population was kept in a state of intense outrage against the victims. Indeed, there’s nothing more distressing about these brutal proceedings than the chilling and unrestrained cruelty with which they were carried out. No signs of pity, compassion, or sympathy were shown by the judges or the community. The following account of the costs associated with the execution of two individuals convicted of witchcraft in Scotland illustrates how methodical and businesslike the whole process was:—

"For ten loads of coal, to burn them £3 6 8
For a tar barrel 0 14 0
For towes 0 6 0
For hurden to be jumps for them 3 10 0
For making of them 0 8 0
For one to go to Finmouth for the Laird to sit
upon their assize as judge
0 6 0
For the executioner for his pains 8 14 0
For his expenses here 0 16 4"

The brutalizing effects of capital punishments are clearly seen in these, as in all other instances. They gradually impart a feeling of indifference to the value of human life, or to the idea of cutting it off by the hand of violence, to all who become accustomed to the spectacle. In various ways they exercise influences upon the tone and temper of society, which can[i.350]not but be regarded with regret by the citizen, the legislator, the moralist, the philanthropist, and the Christian.

The harsh effects of capital punishment are clearly seen here, just like in all other cases. They gradually instill a sense of indifference toward the value of human life or the notion of ending it through violence in anyone who becomes used to witnessing it. In various ways, they impact the attitude and mood of society, which can[i.350]only be viewed with concern by citizens, lawmakers, moralists, philanthropists, and Christians.

Sinclair, in his work called "Satan's Invisible World Discovered," gives the following affecting declaration made by one of the confessing witches, as she was on her way to the stake:—

Sinclair, in his work called "Satan's Invisible World Discovered," gives the following moving statement made by one of the confessing witches as she was being led to the stake:—

"Now all you that see me this day know that I am now to die as a witch by my own confession; and I free all men, especially the ministers and magistrates, of the guilt of my blood; I take it wholly upon myself, my blood be upon my own head: and, as I must make answer to the God of heaven presently, I declare I am as free of witchcraft as any child; but, being delated by a malicious woman, and put in prison under the name of a witch, disowned by my husband and friends, and seeing no ground of hope of my coming out of prison, or ever coming in credit again, through the temptation of the Devil, I made up that confession on purpose to destroy my own life, being weary of it, and choosing rather to die than live."

"Now all of you who see me today know that I am about to die as a witch by my own confession; and I absolve all men, especially the ministers and magistrates, of the guilt of my blood; I take it all upon myself, my blood is on my own head: and, as I must answer to the God of heaven shortly, I declare I am as innocent of witchcraft as any child; but, being accused by a spiteful woman, and imprisoned under the label of a witch, rejected by my husband and friends, and seeing no hope of getting out of prison or ever restoring my reputation, through the temptation of the Devil, I made that confession to deliberately end my own life, being tired of it, and choosing to die rather than live."

Sir George Mackenzie says that he went to examine some women who had confessed, and that one of them, who was a silly creature, told him, "under secresie," "that she had not confessed because she was guilty, but, being a poor creature, who wrought for her meat, and being defamed for a witch, she knew she would starve, for no person thereafter would either give her meat or lodging, and that all men would beat her, and hound dogs at her, and that therefore she[i.351] desired to be out of the world." Whereupon she wept most bitterly, and, upon her knees, called God to witness to what she said.

Sir George Mackenzie says he went to check on some women who had confessed, and one of them, who was not very bright, told him, "in secret," "that she didn't confess because she was guilty, but because she was a poor person who struggled to survive, and since she was accused of being a witch, she knew she would starve. No one would give her food or a place to stay, all the men would beat her and set dogs on her, and so she[i.351] wanted to be out of this world." Then she cried very hard and, on her knees, called God to witness what she said.

A wretch, named Matthew Hopkins, rendered himself infamously conspicuous in the prosecutions for witchcraft that took place in the counties of Essex, Sussex, Norfolk, and Huntingdon, in England, in the years 1645 and 1646. The title he assumed indicates the part he acted: it was "Witch-finder-general." He travelled from place to place; his expenses were paid; and he required, in addition, regular fees for the discovery of a witch. Besides pricking the body to find the witch-mark, he compelled the wretched and decrepit victims of his cruel practices to sit in a painful posture, on an elevated stool, with their limbs crossed; and, if they persevered in refusing to confess, he would prolong their torture, in some cases, to more than twenty-four hours. He would prevent their going to sleep, and drag them about barefoot over the rough ground, thus overcoming them with extreme weariness and pain: but his favorite method was to tie the thumb of the right hand close to the great toe of the left foot, and draw them through a river or pond; if they floated, as they would be likely to do, while their heavier limbs were thus sustained and upborne by the rope, it was considered as conclusive proof of their guilt. This monster was encouraged and sanctioned by the government; and he procured the death, in one year and in one county, of more than three times as many as suffered in Salem during the whole delusion. He[i.352] and his exploits are referred to in the following lines, from that storehouse of good sense and keen wit, Butler's "Hudibras:"—

A wretch named Matthew Hopkins became infamously known for his witch hunts in the counties of Essex, Sussex, Norfolk, and Huntingdon in England during 1645 and 1646. The title he took on reflects his role: "Witch-finder-general." He traveled from place to place, with his expenses covered, and he also demanded fees for identifying witches. In addition to using needles to find the witch-mark, he forced his miserable and weak victims to sit in painful positions on a high stool with their limbs crossed; if they continued to refuse to confess, he would extend their suffering for more than twenty-four hours in some cases. He would keep them awake and drag them barefoot over rough terrain, wearing them down with extreme exhaustion and pain. His preferred method was to tie the thumb of the right hand to the big toe of the left foot and pull them through a river or pond; if they floated, which they likely would due to the rope lifting their heavier limbs, it was seen as undeniable evidence of their guilt. This monster had the backing and approval of the government; he caused the deaths of more than three times as many people in one year in one county as those who died in Salem during the entire witch hunt frenzy. He[i.352] and his actions are mentioned in the following lines from Butler's "Hudibras," which is a treasure trove of common sense and sharp wit:—

"Hasn't this current Parliament" A letter to the Devil sent,
Fully empowered to discuss about Finding angry witches out? Hasn't he within a year "Did they hang sixty of them in one county?"

The infatuated people looked upon this Hopkins with admiration and astonishment, and could only account for his success by the supposition, which, we are told, was generally entertained, that he had stolen the memorandum-book in which Satan had recorded the names of all the persons in England who were in league with him!

The captivated crowd looked at this Hopkins with admiration and disbelief, and could only explain his success by the assumption, which, as we’ve been told, was widely believed, that he had stolen the notebook where Satan had written down the names of everyone in England who was in cahoots with him!

The most melancholy circumstance connected with the history of this creature is, that Richard Baxter and Edmund Calamy—names dear and venerable in the estimation of all virtuous and pious men—were deceived and deluded by him: they countenanced his conduct, followed him in his movements, and aided him in his proceedings.

The saddest part of this creature's story is that Richard Baxter and Edmund Calamy—names cherished and respected by all good and faithful people—were misled by him: they supported his actions, went along with his plans, and assisted him in his endeavors.

At length, however, some gentlemen, shocked at the cruelty and suspicious of the integrity of Hopkins, seized him, tied his thumbs and toes together, threw him into a pond, and dragged him about to their hearts' content. They were fully satisfied with the result of the experiment. It was found that he did not sink. He stood condemned on his own principles; and thus[i.353] the country was rescued from the power of the malicious impostor.

At last, some men, appalled by the cruelty and doubting Hopkins's honesty, captured him, tied his thumbs and toes together, threw him into a pond, and dragged him around as they pleased. They were completely satisfied with the outcome of the experiment. It turned out that he didn’t sink. He was condemned by his own principles; and thus[i.353] the country was saved from the grasp of the malicious fraud.

Among the persons whose death Hopkins procured, was a venerable, gray-headed clergyman, named Lewis. He was of the Church of England, had been the minister of a congregation for more than half a century, and was over eighty years of age. His infirm frame was subjected to the customary tests, even to the trial by water ordeal: he was compelled to walk almost incessantly for several days and nights, until, in the exhaustion of his nature, he yielded assent to a confession that was adduced against him in Court; which, however, he disowned and denied there and at all times, from the moment of release from the torments, by which it had been extorted, to his last breath. As he was about to die the death of a felon, he knew that the rites of sepulture, according to the forms of his denomination, would be denied to his remains. The aged sufferer, it is related, read his own funeral service while on the scaffold. Solemn, sublime, and affecting as are passages of this portion of the ritual of the Church, surely it was never performed under circumstances so well suited to impress with awe and tenderness as when uttered by the calumniated, oppressed, and dying old man. Baxter had been tried for sedition, on the ground that one of his publications contained a reflection upon Episcopacy, and was imprisoned for two years. It is a striking and melancholy illustration of the moral infirmity of human nature, that the author of the "Saints' Everlast[i.354]ing Rest," and the "Call to the Unconverted," permitted such a vengeful feeling against the Establishment to enter his breast, that he took pleasure, and almost exulted, in relating the fate of this innocent and aged clergyman, whom he denominates, in derision, a "Reading Parson."

Among the people whose death Hopkins arranged was a respected, gray-haired clergyman named Lewis. He was part of the Church of England, had served as a minister for over fifty years, and was over eighty years old. His frail body was put through the usual tests, including a water ordeal: he was forced to walk almost non-stop for several days and nights until, completely exhausted, he reluctantly agreed to a confession that was presented against him in court; however, he disowned and denied it there and always, from the moment he was freed from the tortures that had wrung it out of him until his last breath. As he was about to die like a criminal, he knew that his remains would be denied the burial rites according to his denomination. It is said that the elderly sufferer read his own funeral service while on the scaffold. Solemn, uplifting, and moving as the passages of this part of the Church's ritual are, they were never delivered under circumstances that could instill such awe and compassion as when spoken by the slandered, oppressed, and dying old man. Baxter had been tried for sedition on the basis that one of his writings criticized Episcopacy and was imprisoned for two years. It is a striking and sorrowful illustration of the moral weaknesses of human nature that the author of "The Saints' Everlasting Rest" and "The Call to the Unconverted" allowed such a vengeful sentiment against the Establishment to take root in his heart that he took pleasure, and almost reveled, in recounting the fate of this innocent and aged clergyman, whom he mockingly called a "Reading Parson."

Baxter's writings are pervaded by his belief in all sorts of supernatural things. In the "Saints' Everlasting Rest," he declares his conviction of the reality and authenticity of stories of ghosts, apparitions, haunted houses, &c. He placed full faith in a tale, current among the people of his day, of the "dispossession of the Devil out of many persons together in a room in Lancashire, at the prayer of some godly ministers." In his "Dying Thoughts," he says, "I have had many convincing proofs of witches, the contracts they have made with devils, and the power which they have received from them;" and he seems to have credited the most absurd fables ever invented on the subject by ignorance, folly, or fraud.

Baxter's writings are filled with his belief in all kinds of supernatural things. In "Saints' Everlasting Rest," he expresses his strong belief in the reality and truth of ghost stories, apparitions, haunted houses, etc. He completely believed in a story that was popular among people in his time about the "expulsion of the Devil from many individuals at once in a room in Lancashire, through the prayers of some righteous ministers." In his "Dying Thoughts," he states, "I have seen many convincing proofs of witches, the deals they have made with devils, and the power they have gained from them;" and he appears to have believed some of the most ridiculous tales ever created about the topic due to ignorance, foolishness, or deceit.

The case to which he refers, as one of the "dispossession of devils," may be found in a tract published in London in 1697, entitled, "The Surey Demoniac; or, an Account of Satan's strange and dreadful actings, in and about the body of Richard Dugdale, of Surey, near Whalley, in Lancashire. And how he was dispossessed by God's blessing on the Fastings and Prayers of divers Ministers and People. The matter of fact attested by the oaths of several creditable persons, before some of his Majestie's Justices of the Peace[i.355] in the said county." The "London Monthly Repository" (vol. v., 1810) describes the affair as follows: "These dreadful actings of Satan continued above a year; during which there was a desperate struggle between him and nine ministers of the gospel, who had undertaken to cast him out, and, for that purpose, successively relieved each other in their daily combats with him: while Satan tried all his arts to baffle their attempts, insulting them with scoffs and raillery, puzzling them sometimes with Greek and Latin, and threatening them with the effects of his vengeance, till he was finally vanquished and put to flight by the persevering prayers and fastings of the said ministers."

The case he mentions, known as one of the "dispossession of devils," is detailed in a pamphlet published in London in 1697, titled, "The Surey Demoniac; or, an Account of Satan's strange and dreadful actions, in and around the body of Richard Dugdale, of Surey, near Whalley, in Lancashire. And how he was dispossessed by God's blessing on the Fasting and Prayers of various Ministers and People. The facts are confirmed by the oaths of several credible people, before some of His Majesty's Justices of the Peace[i.355] in that county." The "London Monthly Repository" (vol. v., 1810) describes the situation as follows: "These terrible actions of Satan went on for over a year; during which there was a fierce struggle between him and nine ministers of the gospel, who had taken on the task of casting him out, and, for that reason, took turns supporting each other in their daily battles against him: while Satan employed all his tricks to thwart their efforts, mocking them with taunts and insults, sometimes confusing them with Greek and Latin, and threatening them with his vengeance, until he was ultimately defeated and driven away by the persistent prayers and fasts of those ministers."

No name in English history is regarded with more respect and admiration, by wise and virtuous men, than that of Sir Matthew Hale. His character was almost venerated by our ancestors; and it has been thought that it was the influence of his authority, more than any thing else, that prevailed upon them to pursue the course they adopted in the prosecutions at Salem. This great and good man presided, as Lord Chief Baron, at the trial of two females,—Amy Dunny and Rose Cullender,—at Bury St. Edmunds, in Suffolk, in the year 1664. They were convicted and executed.

No name in English history is held in higher regard and respect by wise and virtuous people than that of Sir Matthew Hale. Our ancestors almost revered his character, and it's believed that his authority had a bigger impact on them than anything else in guiding their decisions during the Salem prosecutions. This remarkable and good man served as Lord Chief Baron at the trial of two women—Amy Dunny and Rose Cullender—in Bury St. Edmunds, Suffolk, in 1664. They were found guilty and executed.

Baxter relates the following circumstance as having occurred at this trial: "A godly minister, yet living, sitting by to see one of the girls (who appeared as a witness against the prisoners) in her fits, suddenly felt a force pull one of the hooks from his breeches; and, while he looked with wonder at what was become[i.356] of it, the tormented girl vomited it up out of her mouth."

Baxter shares the following incident that happened during this trial: "A righteous minister, still alive, was watching one of the girls (who testified against the defendants) during her fits when he suddenly felt something yank one of the hooks from his pants; and, while he stared in amazement at what had happened[i.356], the tormented girl threw it up from her mouth."

To give an idea of the nature of the testimony upon which the principal stress was laid by the government, I will extract the following passages from the report of the trial: "Robert Sherringham testified that the axle-tree of his cart, happening, in passing, to break some part of Rose Cullender's house, in her anger at it, she vehemently threatened him his horses should suffer for it; and, within a short time, all his four horses died; after which he sustained many other losses, in the sudden dying of his cattle. He was also taken with a lameness in his limbs, and so far vexed with lice of an extraordinary number and bigness, that no art could hinder the swarming of them, till he burned up two suits of apparel."—"Margaret Arnold testified that Amy Dunny afflicted her children: they (the children), she said, would see mice running round the house, and, when they caught them and threw them into the fire, they would screech out like rats."—"A thing like a bee flew at the face of the younger child; the child fell into a fit, and at last vomited up a two-penny nail, with a broad head, affirming that the bee brought this nail, and forced it into her mouth."—"She one day caught an invisible mouse, and, throwing it into the fire, it flashed like to gunpowder. None besides the child saw the mouse, but every one saw the flash!"

To give an idea of the kind of testimony that the government relied on, I’ll pull out these excerpts from the trial report: "Robert Sherringham testified that the axle of his cart accidentally broke part of Rose Cullender's house. In her anger, she angrily threatened that his horses would suffer for it; and shortly after, all four of his horses died. Following that, he experienced many other losses when his cattle suddenly died. He also developed a lameness in his limbs and was so infested with an extraordinary number of lice that no remedy could stop them from swarming, until he burned two sets of clothes."—"Margaret Arnold testified that Amy Dunny harmed her children: they (the children), she said, would see mice running around the house, and when they caught them and threw them into the fire, the mice would screech like rats."—"Something like a bee flew at the face of the younger child; the child had a seizure and eventually vomited up a two-penny nail with a broad head, claiming that the bee had brought it and forced it into her mouth."—"One day, she caught an invisible mouse and threw it into the fire, which exploded like gunpowder. No one besides the child saw the mouse, but everyone witnessed the flash!"

In this instance we perceive the influence of prejudice in perverting evidence. The circumstance that[i.357] the mouse was invisible to all eyes but those of the child ought to have satisfied the Court and jury that she was either under the power of a delusion or practising an imposture. But, as they were predisposed to find something supernatural in the transaction, their minds seized upon the pretended invisibility of the mouse as conclusive proof of diabolical agency.

In this case, we see how prejudice can distort evidence. The fact that[i.357] the mouse was only visible to the child should have convinced the court and jury that she was either delusional or faking it. However, since they were inclined to believe something supernatural was happening, they took the supposed invisibility of the mouse as definitive proof of a demonic influence.

Many persons who were present expressed the opinion, that the issue of the trial would have been favorable to the prisoners, had it not been for the following circumstance: Sir Thomas Browne, a physician, philosopher, and scholar of unrivalled celebrity at that time, happened to be upon the spot; and it was the universal wish that he should be called to the stand, and his opinion be obtained on the general subject of witchcraft. An enthusiastic contemporary admirer of Sir Thomas Browne thus describes him: "The horizon of his understanding was much larger than the hemisphere of the world: all that was visible in the heavens he comprehended so well, that few that are under them knew so much; and of the earth he had such a minute and exact geographical knowledge as if he had been by Divine Providence ordained surveyor-general of the whole terrestrial globe and its products, minerals, plants, and animals." His memory is stated to have been inferior only to that of Seneca or Scaliger; and he was reputed master of seven languages. Dr. Johnson, who has written his biography, sums up his character in the following terms: "But it is not on the praises of others, but on his[i.358] own writings, that he is to depend for the esteem of posterity, of which he will not easily be deprived, while learning shall have any reverence among men: for there is no science in which he does not discover some skill; and scarce any kind of knowledge, profane or sacred, abstruse or elegant, which he does not appear to have cultivated with success."

Many people who were there believed that the outcome of the trial would have been in favor of the defendants if it hadn't been for one thing: Sir Thomas Browne, a renowned physician, philosopher, and scholar at that time, happened to be present; everyone wanted him to take the stand and share his views on witchcraft. An enthusiastic contemporary admirer described Sir Thomas Browne like this: "The extent of his understanding was much broader than the world's horizon: he understood everything visible in the heavens so well that few people beneath them knew as much; and he had such detailed and precise geographical knowledge of the earth that it was as if he had been divinely appointed as the surveyor-general of the entire planet and its resources—minerals, plants, and animals." His memory was said to be second only to that of Seneca or Scaliger, and he was believed to be fluent in seven languages. Dr. Johnson, who wrote his biography, summed up his character this way: "But it is not on the praises of others, but on his[i.358] own writings, that he is to depend for the esteem of future generations, which he will not easily lose as long as there is any respect for learning among people: for there is no field of knowledge where he does not show some proficiency; and there is hardly any type of knowledge, whether secular or sacred, complex or refined, that he does not seem to have successfully explored."

Sir Thomas Browne was considered by those of his own generation to have made great advances beyond the wisdom of his age. He claimed the character of a reformer, and gave to his principal publication the title of an "Enquiry into Vulgar Errors." So bold and free were his speculations, that he was looked upon invidiously by many as a daring innovator, and did not escape the denunciatory imputation of heresy. Nothing could be more unjust, however, than this latter charge. He was a most ardent and zealous believer in the doctrines of the Established Church. He declares "that he assumes the honorable style of a Christian," not because "it is the religion of his country," but because, "having in his riper years and confirmed judgment seen and examined all, he finds himself obliged, by the principles of grace and the law of his own reason, to embrace no other name but this." He exults and "blesses himself, that he lived not in the days of miracles, when faith had been thrust upon him, but enjoys that greater blessing pronounced to all that believed, and saw not:" nay, he goes so far as to say, that they only had the advantage "of a bold and noble faith, who lived before the[i.359] coming of the Saviour, and, upon obscure prophecies and mystical types, could raise a belief." The fact that such a man was accused of infidelity is an affecting proof of the injustice that is sometimes done by the judgment of contemporaries.

Sir Thomas Browne was regarded by his contemporaries as having advanced significantly beyond the knowledge of his time. He portrayed himself as a reformer and titled his main work "An Enquiry into Vulgar Errors." His bold and free-thinking ideas led many to view him enviously as a radical innovator, and he was even accused of heresy. However, nothing could be more unfair than this accusation. He was a passionate and devoted believer in the teachings of the Established Church. He states "that he adopts the honorable title of a Christian," not because "it is the religion of his country," but because "having in his mature years and with a well-formed judgment explored and examined everything, he feels compelled, by the principles of grace and the logic of his own reason, to embrace no other name but this." He rejoices and "thanks himself for not having lived in the age of miracles, when faith was imposed on him, but enjoys that greater blessing promised to all who believe and do not see:" indeed, he goes so far as to say that only those who lived before the[i.359] coming of the Savior, who could build their faith on obscure prophecies and mystical symbols, truly possessed a bold and noble faith. The fact that such a man faced accusations of disbelief is a poignant testament to the unfair judgments sometimes made by those in his own time.

This prodigy of learning and philosophy went into Court, took the stand, and declared his opinion in favor of the reality of witchcraft, entered into a particular discussion of the subject before the jury, threw the whole weight of his great name into the wavering scales of justice, and the poor women were convicted. The authority of Sir Thomas Browne, added to the other evidence, perplexed Sir Matthew Hale. A reporter of the trial says, "that it made this great and good man doubtful; but he was in such fears, and proceeded with such caution, that he would not so much as sum up the evidence, but left it to the jury with prayers, 'that the great God of heaven would direct their hearts in that weighty matter.'"

This brilliant scholar and philosopher went to court, took the stand, and expressed his belief in the reality of witchcraft. He engaged in a detailed discussion on the topic before the jury, putting his considerable reputation on the line, and the result was the conviction of the unfortunate women. The authority of Sir Thomas Browne, combined with the other evidence, confused Sir Matthew Hale. A trial reporter noted, "it caused this great and good man to be uncertain; but he was so apprehensive and approached it with such caution that he wouldn’t even summarize the evidence, but left it to the jury with prayers, 'that the great God of heaven would guide their hearts in this important matter.'"

The result of this important trial established decisively the interpretation of English law; and the printed report of it was used as an authoritative text-book in the Court at Salem.

The outcome of this significant trial clearly established the interpretation of English law, and the printed report was used as an official textbook in the Court at Salem.

The celebrated Robert Boyle flourished in the latter half of the seventeenth century. He is allowed by all to have done much towards the introduction of an improved philosophy, and the promotion of experimental science. But he could not entirely shake off the superstition of his age.

The renowned Robert Boyle thrived in the latter half of the seventeenth century. Everyone agrees that he contributed significantly to the advancement of modern philosophy and the growth of experimental science. However, he couldn't completely rid himself of the superstitions of his time.

A small city in Burgundy, called Mascon, was[i.360] famous in the annals of witchcraft. In a work called "The Theatre of God's Judgments," published, in London, by Thomas Beard in 1612, there is the following passage: "It was a very lamentable spectacle that chanced to the Governor of Mascon, a magician, whom the Devil snatched up in dinner-while, and hoisted aloft, carrying him three times about the town of Mascon, in the presence of many beholders, to whom he cried in this manner, 'Help, help, my friends!' so that the whole town stood amazed thereat; yea, and the remembrance of this strange accident sticketh at this day fast in the minds of all the inhabitants of this country." A malicious and bigoted monk, who discharged the office of chief legend-maker to the Benedictine Abbey, in the vicinity of Mascon, fabricated this ridiculous story for the purpose of bringing the Governor into disrepute. An account of another diabolical visitation, suggested, it is probable, by the one just described, was issued from the press, under the title of "The Devil of Mascon," during the lifetime of Boyle, who gave his sanction to the work, promoted its version into English, and, as late as 1678, publicly declared his belief of the supernatural transaction it related.

A small city in Burgundy, called Mascon, was[i.360] famous for its witchcraft history. In a work titled "The Theatre of God's Judgments," published in London by Thomas Beard in 1612, there's a passage that says: "It was a very sad sight that happened to the Governor of Mascon, a magician, whom the Devil suddenly grabbed during dinner and lifted up, carrying him three times around the town of Mascon in front of many spectators. He shouted to them, 'Help, help, my friends!' so that the whole town was amazed; indeed, the memory of this strange event still sticks in the minds of all the residents of this area." A spiteful and prejudiced monk, who was in charge of creating legends for the Benedictine Abbey near Mascon, made up this ridiculous story to tarnish the Governor's reputation. Another account of a demonic encounter, likely inspired by the one just mentioned, was published under the title "The Devil of Mascon" during Boyle's lifetime, who endorsed the work, facilitated its translation into English, and, as late as 1678, publicly expressed his belief in the supernatural event it described.

The subject of demonology, in all its forms and phases, embracing witchcraft, held a more commanding place throughout Europe, in the literature of the centuries immediately preceding the eighteenth, than any other. Works of the highest pretension, elaborate, learned, voluminous, and exhausting, were published,[i.361] by the authority of governments and universities, to expound it. It was regarded as occupying the most eminent department of jurisprudence, as well as of science and theology.

The topic of demonology, in all its varieties, including witchcraft, had a more prominent presence across Europe in the literature of the centuries leading up to the eighteenth than anything else. High-profile works that were detailed, scholarly, extensive, and thorough were published,[i.361] with backing from governments and universities to explain it. It was seen as a major field in both law, as well as science and theology.

Raphael De La Torre and Adam Tanner published treatises establishing the right and duty of ecclesiastical tribunals to punish all who practised or dealt with the arts of demonology. In 1484, Sprenger came out with his famous book, "Malleus Maleficarum;" or, the "Hammer of Witches." Paul Layman, in 1629, issued an elaborate work on "Judicial Processes against Sorcerers and Witches." The following is the title of a bulky volume of some seven hundred pages: "Demonology, or Natural Magic or demoniacal, lawful and unlawful, also open or secret, by the intervention and invocation of a Demon," published in 1612. It consists of four books, treating of the crime of witchcraft, and its punishment in the ordinary tribunals and the Inquisitorial office. Its author was Don Francisco Torreblanca Villalpando, of Cordova, Advocate Royal in the courts of Grenada. It was republished in 1623, by command of Philip III. of Spain, on the recommendation of the Fiscal General, and with the sanction of the Royal Council and the Holy Inquisition. This work may be considered as establishing and defining the doctrines, in reference to witchcraft, prevailing in all Catholic countries. It was indorsed by royal, judicial, academical, and ecclesiastical approval; is replete with extraordinary erudition, arranged in the most scientific form, em[i.362]bracing in a methodical classification all the minutest details of the subject, and codifying it into a complete system of law. There was no particular in all the proceedings and all the doctrines brought out at the trials in Salem, which did not find ample justification and support in this work of Catholic, imperial, and European authority.

Raphael De La Torre and Adam Tanner published papers establishing the right and duty of church tribunals to punish anyone who practiced or dealt with demonology. In 1484, Sprenger released his famous book, "Malleus Maleficarum," or "The Hammer of Witches." Paul Layman, in 1629, published a detailed work on "Judicial Processes against Sorcerers and Witches." The following is the title of a huge volume of about seven hundred pages: "Demonology, or Natural Magic, lawful and unlawful, also open or secret, by the intervention and invocation of a Demon," published in 1612. It consists of four books discussing the crime of witchcraft and its punishment in ordinary courts and the Inquisition. Its author was Don Francisco Torreblanca Villalpando, from Cordova, Advocate Royal in the courts of Grenada. It was republished in 1623, by order of Philip III of Spain, on the recommendation of the Fiscal General, and with the approval of the Royal Council and the Holy Inquisition. This work can be seen as establishing and defining the prevailing doctrines regarding witchcraft in all Catholic countries. It received royal, judicial, academic, and ecclesiastical endorsement; is filled with extraordinary knowledge, organized in a scientific manner, encompassing a methodical classification of all the smallest details of the subject, and codifying it into a complete legal system. There was no aspect in all the proceedings and doctrines presented at the Salem trials that didn't find significant justification and support in this work of Catholic, imperial, and European authority.

But perhaps the writer of the greatest influence on this subject in England and America, during the whole of the seventeenth century, was William Perkins, "the learned, pious, and painful preacher of God's Word, at St. Andrew's, in Cambridge," where he died, in 1602, aged forty-four years. He was quite a voluminous author; and many of his works were translated into French, Dutch, Italian, and Spanish. Fuller, in "The Holy State," selects him as the impersonation of the qualities requisite to "the Faithful Minister." In his glowing eulogium upon his learning and talents, he says:—

But maybe the most influential writer on this topic in England and America throughout the seventeenth century was William Perkins, "the learned, pious, and dedicated preacher of God's Word at St. Andrew's in Cambridge," where he died in 1602 at the age of forty-four. He was quite a prolific author, and many of his works were translated into French, Dutch, Italian, and Spanish. Fuller, in "The Holy State," picks him as the embodiment of the qualities needed for "the Faithful Minister." In his enthusiastic praise of his knowledge and talents, he says:—

"He would pronounce the word damne with such an emphasis as left a doleful echo in his auditors' ears a good while after. And, when catechist of Christ's College, in expounding the Commandments, applied them so home,—able almost to make his hearers' hearts fall down, and hairs to stand upright. But, in his older age, he altered his voice, and remitted much of his former rigidness, often professing that to preach mercy was that proper office of the ministers of the gospel."—"Our Perkins brought the schools into the pulpit, and, unshelling their controversies out of their hard school-terms, made thereof plain and wholesome meat for his peo[i.363]ple; for he had a capacious head, with angles winding, and roomy enough to lodge all controversial intricacies."—"He had a rare felicity in speedy reading of books; so that, as it were, riding post through an author, he took strict notice of all passages. Perusing books so speedily, one would think he read nothing; so accurately, one would think he read all."

"He would say the word damne with such power that it left a haunting echo in his listeners' ears long afterward. And when he was a catechist at Christ's College, he explained the Commandments with such intensity that he could almost make his audience's hearts sink and their hair stand on end. However, in his later years, he changed his tone and softened much of his earlier sternness, often stating that preaching mercy was the true role of gospel ministers."—"Our Perkins brought academic discussions into the pulpit, breaking down their complex issues into clear and nutritious lessons for his people; he had a vast mind, with winding angles, spacious enough to accommodate all the controversial details."—"He had an exceptional ability to read books quickly; it was as if he were racing through an author, yet he took careful note of every detail. While reading so fast, one might think he wasn’t absorbing anything, but with such precision, one would believe he absorbed everything."

An octavo volume, written by this great scholar and divine, was published at Cambridge in England, under the title, "Discourse of the Damned Art of Witchcraft." It went through several editions, and had a wide and permanent circulation.

An octavo book by this remarkable scholar and theologian was published in Cambridge, England, titled "Discourse of the Damned Art of Witchcraft." It went through several editions and had a broad and lasting circulation.

This work, the character of which is sufficiently indicated in its emphatic title, was the great authority on the subject with our fathers; and Mr. Parris had a copy of it in his possession when the proceedings in reference to witchcraft began at Salem Village.

This work, which is clearly indicated by its striking title, was the main authority on the subject for our ancestors; and Mr. Parris had a copy of it in his possession when the witchcraft proceedings started in Salem Village.

John Gaule published an octavo volume in London, in 1646, entitled, "Select Cases of Conscience concerning Witches and Witchcraft." He is one of the most exact writers on the subject, and arranges witches in the following classes: "1. The diviner, gypsy, or fortune-telling witch; 2. The astrologian, star-gazing, planetary, prognosticating witch; 3. The chanting, canting, or calculating witch, who works by signs and numbers; 4. The venefical, or poisoning witch; 5. The exorcist, or conjuring witch; 6. The gastronomic witch; 7. The magical, speculative, sciential, or arted witch; 8. The necromancer."

John Gaule published an octavo volume in London in 1646, titled "Select Cases of Conscience concerning Witches and Witchcraft." He is one of the most precise writers on the topic and categorizes witches into the following groups: "1. The diviner, gypsy, or fortune-telling witch; 2. The astrologer, star-gazing, planetary, prognosticating witch; 3. The chanting, canting, or calculating witch, who works with signs and numbers; 4. The venomous or poisoning witch; 5. The exorcist or conjuring witch; 6. The culinary witch; 7. The magical, speculative, scientific, or skilled witch; 8. The necromancer."

Besides innumerable writers of this class, who spread out the scholastic learning on the subject,[i.364] and presented it in a logical and theological form, there were others who treated it in a more popular style, and invested it with the charms of elegant literature. Henry Hallywell published an octavo in London, in 1681, in which, while the main doctrines of witchcraft as then almost universally received are enforced, an attempt was made to divest it of some of its most repulsive and terrible features. He gives the following account of the means by which a person may place himself beyond the reach of the power of witchcraft:—

Besides countless writers of this kind, who expanded on the academic learning about the topic,[i.364] and presented it in a logical and theological way, there were others who addressed it in a more accessible style, adding the appeal of elegant literature. Henry Hallywell published a book in London in 1681, where, while reinforcing the main doctrines of witchcraft that were almost universally accepted at the time, he attempted to remove some of its most horrifying and dreadful aspects. He provides the following explanation of how a person can protect themselves from the effects of witchcraft:—

"It is possible for the soul to arise to such a height, and become so divine, that no witchcraft or evil demons can have any power upon the body. When the bodily life is too far invigorated and awakened, and draws the intellect, the flower and summity of the soul, into a conspiration with it, then are we subject and obnoxious to magical assaults. For magic or sorcery, being founded only in this lower or mundane spirit, he that makes it his business to be freed and released from all its blandishments and flattering devocations, and endeavors wholly to withdraw himself from the love of corporeity and too near a sympathy with the frail flesh, he, by it, enkindles such a divine principle as lifts him above the fate of this inferior world, and adorns his mind with such an awful majesty that beats back all enchantments, and makes the infernal fiends tremble at his presence, hating those vigorous beams of light which are so contrary and repugnant to their dark natures."

"It is possible for the soul to rise to such a level and become so divine that no witchcraft or evil spirits can have any power over the body. When our physical life is overly energized and awakened, pulling the intellect—the flower and peak of the soul—into a conspiracy with it, we become vulnerable to magical attacks. Magic or sorcery is rooted in this lower, worldly spirit. Someone who actively seeks to be freed from its temptations and manipulations, and who strives to detach from the desire for physicality and too close a connection to fragile flesh, ignites such a divine principle within themselves that elevates them above the fate of this lower world, adorning their mind with such a commanding presence that repels all enchantments and causes the evil spirits to tremble at their presence, detesting those powerful beams of light that are so opposed to their dark nature."

The mind of this beautiful writer found encouragement and security in the midst of the diabolical spir[i.365]its, with whom he believed the world to be infested, in the following views and speculations:—

The mind of this beautiful writer found encouragement and security amidst the devilish spirits, which he believed infested the world, in the following thoughts and ideas:—

"For there is a chain of government that runs down from God, the Supreme Monarch, whose bright and piercing eyes look through all that he has made, to the lowest degree of the creation; and there are presidential angels of empires and kingdoms, and such as under them have the tutelage of private families; and, lastly, every man's particular guardian genius. Nor is the inanimate or material world left to blind chance or fortune; but there are, likewise, mighty and potent spirits, to whom is committed the guidance and care of the fluctuating and uncertain motions of it, and by their ministry, fire and vapor, storms and tempests, snow and hail, heat and cold, are all kept within such bounds and limits as are most serviceable to the ends of Providence. They take care of the variety of seasons, and superintend the tillage and fruits of the earth; upon which account, Origen calls them invisible husbandmen. So that, all affairs and things being under the inspection and government of these incorporeal beings, the power of the dark kingdom and its agents is under a strict confinement and restraint; and they cannot bring a general mischief upon the world without a special permission of a superior Providence."

"For there is a hierarchy of governance that comes from God, the Supreme Monarch, whose bright and piercing eyes see through everything He has created, down to the smallest part of creation; and there are angelic leaders of empires and kingdoms, and beneath them, those who oversee individual families; and, finally, every person has a specific guardian spirit. The inanimate or material world is also not left to random chance or luck; there are powerful spirits tasked with guiding and caring for its changing and uncertain movements, so that through their influence, fire and vapor, storms and tempests, snow and hail, heat and cold, are all kept within limits that best serve the purposes of Providence. They manage the variety of seasons and look after the cultivation and yield of the earth; for this reason, Origen refers to them as invisible farmers. Thus, since all matters and things are under the watch and governance of these incorporeal beings, the power of the dark realm and its agents is strictly confined and restrained; they cannot cause widespread harm in the world without special permission from a higher Providence."

Spenser has the same imagery and sentiment:—

Spenser has the same imagery and sentiment:—

"How often do they leave their silver bowers,
To come to help us, what help do we need? How often do they with golden wings soar The shifting skies, like flying messengers,
Are we to fight against evil spirits to help us in battle? They fight for us, they watch and protect, And their bright squads surround us, And all for love, with nothing in return:
Oh! Why should the heavenly God care so much about man? [i.366]

While there can be no doubt that the superstitious opinions we have been reviewing were diffused generally among the great body of the people of all ranks and conditions, it would be unjust to truth not to mention that there were some persons who looked upon them as empty fables and vain imaginations. Error has never yet made a complete and universal conquest. In the darkest ages and most benighted regions, it has been found impossible utterly to extinguish the light of reason. There always have been some in whose souls the torch of truth has been kept burning with vestal watchfulness: we can discern its glimmer here and there through the deepest night that has yet settled upon the earth. In the midst of the most extravagant superstition, there have been individuals who have disowned the popular belief, and considered it a mark of wisdom and true philosophy to discard the idle fancies and absurd schemes of faith that possessed the minds of the great mass of their contemporaries. This was the case with Horace, as appears from lines thus quite freely but effectively translated:—

While there’s no doubt that the superstitious beliefs we've been discussing were widely held among a large segment of the population from all walks of life, it wouldn’t be fair to ignore that some people regarded them as mere myths and empty ideas. Mistakes have never fully dominated everyone’s thinking. Even in the darkest times and most blind places, it has been impossible to completely snuff out the light of reason. There have always been those who kept the flame of truth alive with vigilant care: we can see its flicker now and then through the deepest darkness that has ever covered the earth. Even amid the most outrageous superstitions, there have been individuals who rejected popular beliefs, viewing it as a sign of wisdom and true philosophy to cast aside the empty fantasies and ridiculous concepts of faith that overwhelmed the minds of the majority around them. This was true for Horace, as shown in the lines that have been translated quite freely but effectively:—

"These magical dreams and terrors," These miracles and witches, Night-walking spirits or Thessal bugs,
"Don't esteem them too highly."

The intellect of Seneca also rose above the reach of the popular credulity with respect to the agency of supernatural beings and the efficacy of mysterious charms.

The intellect of Seneca also surpassed the limits of popular belief regarding the influence of supernatural beings and the effectiveness of mysterious charms.

If we could but obtain access to the secret thoughts[i.367] of the wisest philosophers and of the men of genius of antiquity, we should probably find that many of them were superior to the superstitions of their times. Even in the thick darkness of the dark ages, there were minds too powerful to be kept in chains by error and delusion.

If we could just access the secret thoughts[i.367] of the wisest philosophers and geniuses from ancient times, we would likely find that many of them were above the superstitions of their era. Even during the dark ages, there were minds too strong to be confined by mistakes and misconceptions.

Henry Cornelius Agrippa, who was born in the latter part of the fifteenth century, was, perhaps, the greatest philosopher and scholar of his period. In early life, he was very much devoted to the science of magic, and was a strenuous supporter of demonology and witchcraft. In the course of his studies and meditations, he was led to a change of views on these subjects, and did all that he could to warn others from putting confidence in such vain, frivolous, and absurd superstitions as then possessed the world. The consequence was, that he was denounced and prosecuted as a conjurer, and charged with having written against magic and witchcraft, in order the more securely to shelter himself from the suspicion of practising them. As an instance of the calumnies that were heaped upon him, I would mention that Paulus Jovius asserted that "Cornelius Agrippa went always accompanied with an evil spirit in the similitude of a black dog;" and that, when the time of his death drew near, "he took off the enchanted collar from the dog's neck, and sent him away with these terms, 'Get thee hence, thou cursed beast, which hast utterly destroyed me:' neither was the dog ever seen after." Butler, in his "Hudibras," has not neg[i.368]lected to celebrate this remarkable connection between Satan and the man of learning:—

Henry Cornelius Agrippa, born in the late fifteenth century, was arguably the greatest philosopher and scholar of his time. In his early years, he was very invested in the study of magic and was a strong advocate of demonology and witchcraft. However, through his studies and reflections, he eventually changed his views on these topics and made every effort to warn others against trusting in the empty, trivial, and ridiculous superstitions that then dominated the world. As a result, he was accused and prosecuted as a conjurer and was charged with writing against magic and witchcraft in order to protect himself from being suspected of practicing them. One example of the slanders directed at him includes Paulus Jovius claiming that "Cornelius Agrippa was always followed by an evil spirit in the form of a black dog"; and that, as he approached death, "he removed the enchanted collar from the dog's neck and sent it away with these words, 'Get away from me, you cursed beast, who has completely ruined me:' and the dog was never seen again." Butler, in his "Hudibras," has not failed to highlight this remarkable connection between Satan and the scholar:—

"Agrippa had a dark dog" In the appearance and behavior of a dog,
That was his tutor; and the cur Read to the occult philosopher.

John Wierus wrote an elaborate, learned, and judicious book, in which he treated at large of magic, sorcery, and witchcraft, and did all that scholarship, talent, and philosophy could do to undermine and subvert the whole system of the prevailing popular superstition. But he fared no better than his predecessor, patron, and master, Agrippa; for, like him, he was accused of having attempted to persuade the world that there was no reality in supernatural charms and diabolical confederacies, in order that he might devote himself to them without suspicion or molestation, and was borne down by the bigotry and fanaticism of his times.

John Wierus wrote a detailed, knowledgeable, and balanced book where he extensively discussed magic, sorcery, and witchcraft, doing everything he could through scholarship, talent, and philosophy to challenge and dismantle the popular superstitions of his time. However, he had no more success than his predecessor, patron, and mentor, Agrippa; like Agrippa, he was accused of trying to convince people that supernatural charms and evil alliances weren't real, so he could pursue them without being questioned or harassed, and he was overwhelmed by the intolerance and fanaticism of his era.

King James merely gave utterance to the general sentiment, and pronounced the verdict of popular opinion, in the following extract from the preface to his "Demonologie:" "Wierus, a German physician, sets out a public apologie for all these crafts-folkes, whereby, procuring for them impunitie, he plainly bewrays himself to have been of that profession."

King James simply expressed the common feeling and stated the judgment of public opinion in this excerpt from the preface to his "Demonologie": "Wierus, a German physician, makes a public apology for all these people involved in these practices, and by doing so to secure their safety, he clearly reveals that he has been part of that profession."

In 1584, a quarto volume was published in London, the work of Reginald Scott, a learned English gentleman, whose title sufficiently indicates its import, "The Discovery of Witchcraft, wherein the lewde dealing of[i.369] witches and witchmongers is notably detected; the knavery of conjurers, the impiety of inchanters, the folly of soothsayers, the impudent falsehood of cozeners, the infidelity of atheists, the pestilent practices of pythonists, the curiosities of figure-casters, the vanity of dreamers, the beggarly art of alcumstrie, the abomination of idolatrie, the horrible art of poisoning, the virtue and power of natural magic, and all the conveniencies of legerdemaine and juggling, are discovered, &c."

In 1584, a quarto volume was published in London by Reginald Scott, a knowledgeable English gentleman, whose title clearly reflects its significance: "The Discovery of Witchcraft, where the deceitful actions of [i.369] witches and witchmongers are thoroughly exposed; the trickery of conjurers, the immorality of enchanters, the foolishness of soothsayers, the brazen lies of con artists, the faithlessness of atheists, the harmful practices of fortune tellers, the oddities of figure casters, the emptiness of dream interpretation, the impoverished art of alchemy, the repulsiveness of idol worship, the dreadful art of poisoning, the merits and power of natural magic, and all the tricks of sleight of hand and juggling are uncovered, etc."

In 1599, Samuel Harsnett, Archbishop of York, wrote a work, published in London, to expose certain persons who pretended to have the power of casting out devils, and detecting their "deceitful trade." This writer was among the first to bring the power of bold satire and open denunciation to bear against the superstitions of demonology. He thus describes the motives and the methods of such impostors:—

In 1599, Samuel Harsnett, the Archbishop of York, wrote a book published in London to reveal certain individuals who claimed they could cast out demons and to expose their "deceitful trade." This author was one of the first to use sharp satire and direct criticism to challenge the superstitions of demonology. He describes the motivations and tactics of these frauds as follows:—

"Out of these," saith he, "is shaped us the true idea of a witch,—an old, weather-beaten crone, having her chin and her knees meeting for age, walking like a bow, leaning on a staff; hollow-eyed, untoothed, furrowed on her face, having her limbs trembling with the palsy, going mumbling in the streets; one that hath forgotten her Pater-noster, and yet hath a shrewd tongue to call a drab a drab. If she hath learned of an old wife, in a chimney-end, Pax, Max, Fax, for a spell, or can say Sir John Grantham's curse for the miller's eels, 'All ye that have stolen the miller's eels, Laudate dominum de coelis: and all they that have consented thereto, Benedicamus domino:' why then, beware! look about[i.370] you, my neighbors. If any of you have a sheep sick of the giddies, or a hog of the mumps, or a horse of the staggers, or a knavish boy of the school, or an idle girl of the wheel, or a young drab of the sullens, and hath not fat enough for her porridge, or butter enough for her bread, and she hath a little help of the epilepsy or cramp, to teach her to roll her eyes, wry her mouth, gnash her teeth, startle with her body, hold her arms and hands stiff, &c.; and then, when an old Mother Nobs hath by chance called her an idle young housewife, or bid the Devil scratch her, then no doubt but Mother Nobs is the witch, and the young girl is owl blasted, &c. They that have their brains baited and their fancies distempered with the imaginations and apprehensions of witches, conjurers, and fairies, and all that lymphatic chimera, I find to be marshalled in one of these five ranks: children, fools, women, cowards, sick or black melancholic discomposed wits."

"From these," he says, "we get the true image of a witch—an old, weathered woman whose chin and knees meet because she's so old, walking hunched over with a stick; hollow-eyed, toothless, with a wrinkled face, her limbs shaking from age, mumbling as she walks through the streets; someone who has forgotten her prayers but can still call out insults. If she's learned a spell from an old woman at the end of the street, saying 'Pax, Max, Fax,' or recites Sir John Grantham's curse against the miller's eels—'All of you who have stolen the miller's eels, praise the Lord from the heavens: and all who have agreed to it, let us bless the Lord'—then beware! Look around you, my neighbors. If any of you have a sheep that can't stand, or a pig with the mumps, or a horse that staggers, or a mischievous boy in school, or a lazy girl at the spinning wheel, or a young woman who's moody and doesn't have enough fat for her porridge or butter for her bread, and if she also has issues like epilepsy or cramps that make her roll her eyes, twist her mouth, grind her teeth, jerk her body, hold her arms and hands stiff, etc.; and then when an old Mother Nobs happens to call her a lazy young housewife or tells the Devil to scratch her, then surely Mother Nobs is the witch, and the young woman is cursed. Those who are troubled in their minds and distorted by thoughts of witches, conjurers, and fairies, and all that strange nonsense, I find can be grouped into one of these five categories: children, fools, women, cowards, and those who are sick or suffering from dark melancholic thoughts."

In 1669, a work was published in London with the following title: "The Question of Witchcraft Debated; or, a Discourse against their Opinions that affirm Witches." It is a work of great merit, and would do honor to a scholar and logician of the present day. The author was John Wagstaffe, of Oxford University: he is described as a crooked, shrivelled, little man, of a most despicable appearance. This circumstance, together with his writings against the popular belief in witchcraft, led his academical associates to accuse him, some of them in sport, but others with grave suspicion, of being a wizard. Wood, the historian of Oxford, says that "he died in a manner distracted, occasioned by a deep conceit of his own parts, and by a continual[i.371] bibbing of strong and high-tasted liquors." But poor Wagstaffe was assailed by something more than private raillery and slander. His heretical sentiments exposed him to the battery of the host of writers who will always be found ready to advocate a prevailing opinion. But Wagstaffe was not left entirely alone to defend the cause of reason and truth. He had one most zealous advocate and ardent admirer in the author of a work on "The Doctrine of Devils," published in 1676. This writer sums up a panegyric upon Wagstaffe's performance, by pronouncing it "a judicious book, that contains more good reason, true religion, and right Christianity, than all those lumps and cartloads of luggage that hath been fardled up by all the faggeters of demonologistical winter-tales, and witchcraftical legendaries, since they first began to foul clean paper."

In 1669, a book was published in London titled "The Question of Witchcraft Debated; or, a Discourse against their Opinions that Affirm Witches." It's a significant work that would be impressive for a scholar and logician today. The author was John Wagstaffe from Oxford University; he is described as a crooked, shriveled little man with a rather unappealing appearance. This fact, along with his writings against the commonly held belief in witchcraft, led some of his academic peers to jokingly accuse him of being a wizard, while others were more serious in their suspicions. Wood, the historian of Oxford, noted that "he died in a manner distracted, caused by a deep conceit of his own abilities, and by a continual[i.371] drinking of strong and highly flavored liquors." However, poor Wagstaffe faced more than just teasing and slander. His controversial ideas attracted criticism from many writers eager to defend the popular beliefs of the time. Yet, Wagstaffe was not completely left to advocate for reason and truth on his own. He had a passionate supporter and admirer in the author of a work titled "The Doctrine of Devils," published in 1676. This writer praises Wagstaffe's work, calling it "a judicious book that contains more good reasoning, true religion, and right Christianity than all those heaps and loads of nonsense that have been cobbled together by all the purveyors of demonological winter tales and witchcraft legends since they first began to stain clean paper."

Dr. Balthasar Bekker, of Amsterdam, who was equally eminent in astronomy, philosophy, and theology, published in 1691 a learned and powerful work, called "The World Bewitched," in which he openly assailed the doctrines of witchcraft and of the Devil, and anticipated many of the views and arguments presented in Farmer's excellent publications. As a reward for his exertions to enlighten his fellow-creatures, he was turned out of the ministry, and assaulted by nearly all the writers of his age.

Dr. Balthasar Bekker from Amsterdam, who was highly regarded in astronomy, philosophy, and theology, published a significant and thought-provoking work in 1691 titled "The World Bewitched." In this book, he openly challenged the beliefs about witchcraft and the Devil and anticipated many of the ideas and arguments found in Farmer's outstanding writings. As a consequence of his efforts to educate his peers, he was expelled from the ministry and criticized by almost all the writers of his time.

Dr. Bekker was one of the ablest and boldest writers of his day, and did much to advance the cause of natural science, scriptural interpretation, and the princi[i.372]ples of enlightened Christianity. In 1680 he published an "Inquiry concerning Comets," rescuing them from the realm of superstition, placing them within the natural physical laws, and exploding the then-received opinion, that, in any way, they are the presages or forerunners of evil. His "Exposition on the Prophet Daniel" gives proof of his learning and judgment. His great merits were recognized by John Locke and Richard Bentley. In the preface to his "World Bewitched," he says, that it grieved him to see the great honors, powers, and miracles which are ascribed to the Devil. "It has come to that pass," to use his own language, "that men think it piety and godliness to ascribe a great many wonders to the Devil, and impiety and heresy, if a man will not believe that the Devil can do what a thousand persons say he does. It is now reckoned godliness, if a man who fears God fear also the Devil. If he be not afraid of the Devil, he passes for an atheist, who does not believe in God, because he cannot think that there are two gods, the one good, the other bad. But these, I think, with much more reason, may be called ditheists. For my part, if, on account of my opinion, they will give me a new name, let them call me a monotheist, a believer of but one God." The work struck down the whole system of demonology and witchcraft, by proving that there never was really such a thing as sorcery or possession, and that devils have no influence over human affairs or the persons of men. It is not surprising that it raised a great clamor. The wonder is that it did not cost him[i.373] his life. It is probable that his protection was the confidence the people had in his character and learning. Attempts were made to diminish that confidence, and bring him into odium, by levelling against him every form of abuse. A medal was struck, and extensively circulated, representing the Devil, clothed like a minister or priest, riding on an ass. The device was so arranged as to excite ridicule and abhorrence, in the vulgar mind, against Bekker. But it was found impossible to turn the popular feeling, which had set in his favor; and his persecutors and defamers were completely baffled. He was followed, soon after, by the learned Thomasius, whose writings against demonology produced a decided effect upon the convictions of the age.

Dr. Bekker was one of the most talented and fearless writers of his time, significantly promoting natural science, scriptural interpretation, and the principles of enlightened Christianity. In 1680, he published an "Inquiry concerning Comets," rescuing them from superstition, placing them under natural physical laws, and debunking the widely held belief that they were ominous signs of evil. His "Exposition on the Prophet Daniel" showcases his knowledge and insight. His notable contributions were recognized by John Locke and Richard Bentley. In the preface to his "World Bewitched," he expressed his frustration over the immense honors, powers, and miracles attributed to the Devil. "It has come to such a point," as he put it, "that people believe it is pious and godly to credit the Devil with many wonders, while it is seen as impious and heretical if someone does not believe the Devil can do what countless individuals claim he does. Nowadays, it is considered godliness if a person who fears God also fears the Devil. If he doesn’t fear the Devil, he is viewed as an atheist who does not believe in God, because he cannot reconcile the existence of two deities—one good and the other evil. However, I believe those who hold this view could more reasonably be called ditheists. For my part, if they want to label me based on my beliefs, let them call me a monotheist, a believer in only one God." This work dismantled the entire system of demonology and witchcraft by proving that sorcery and possession were non-existent and that demons have no influence over human affairs. It's not surprising that it caused quite a stir. The astonishing thing is that it didn’t cost him his life. His safety likely stemmed from the public's trust in his character and intellect. There were attempts to undermine that trust and tarnish his reputation with various forms of abuse. A medal was created and widely distributed, depicting the Devil dressed as a minister or priest, riding on a donkey. The design was intended to provoke ridicule and disgust among the common people towards Bekker. However, it was impossible to sway public sentiment, which had turned in his favor, and his opponents and slanderers were completely thwarted. Shortly after, he was followed by the learned Thomasius, whose writings against demonology significantly impacted the beliefs of the time.

While Bekker, and the other writers of his class, endeavored to overthrow the superstitious practices and fancies then prevalent respecting demonology and communications with spiritual beings, they so far acceded to the popular theology as to maintain the doctrine of the personality of the Devil. They believed in the existence of the arch-fiend, but denied his agency in human affairs. They held that he was kept confined "to bottomless perdition, there to dwell—

While Bekker and the other writers of his time tried to challenge the superstitious beliefs and ideas about demonology and interactions with spiritual beings, they still somewhat accepted the common religious views by upholding the idea of the Devil's individuality. They believed in the existence of the ultimate evil being but rejected his involvement in human matters. They argued that he was confined "to bottomless perdition, there to dwell—

"In unbreakable chains and harsh punishment."

Sir Robert Filmer, in 1680, published "An Advertisement to the jurymen of England, touching Witches," in which he criticised and condemned many of the opinions and methods then countenanced on the subject.[i.374]

Sir Robert Filmer, in 1680, published "An Advertisement to the Jurymen of England, Touching Witches," where he criticized and condemned many of the opinions and methods that were accepted at the time.[i.374]

But Bekker, Thomasius, and Filmer appeared too late to operate upon the prevalent opinions of Europe or America prior to the witchcraft delusion of 1692. The productions of the other writers, in the same direction, to whom I have referred, probably had a very limited circulation, and made at the time but little impression. Error is seldom overthrown by mere reasoning. It yields only to the logic of events. No power of learning or wit could have rooted the witchcraft superstitions out of the minds of men. Nothing short of a demonstration of their deformities, follies, and horrors, such as here was held up to the view of the world, could have given their death-blow. This was the final cause of Salem Witchcraft, and makes it one of the great landmarks in the world's history.

But Bekker, Thomasius, and Filmer showed up too late to influence the popular beliefs in Europe or America before the witchcraft panic of 1692. The works of the other writers I mentioned, who were heading in the same direction, probably had very limited circulation and made little impact at the time. Mistakes are rarely corrected through simple reasoning. They are only overturned by the reality of events. No amount of knowledge or cleverness could have removed the witchcraft superstitions from people's minds. Only a demonstration of their absurdities, follies, and horrors, like the one presented to the world here, could have delivered the final blow to those beliefs. This was the ultimate reason behind the Salem Witchcraft trials, and it marks one of the significant milestones in world history.

A full and just view of the position and obligations of the persons who took part in the transactions at Salem requires a previous knowledge of the principles and the state of the law, as it was then in force and understood by the courts, and all concerned in judicial proceedings. Although the ancients did not regard pretended intercourse between magicians and enchanters and spiritual beings as necessarily or always criminal, we find that they enacted laws against the abuse of the power supposed to result from the connection. The old Roman code of the Twelve Tables contained the following prohibition: "That they should not bewitch the fruits of the earth, nor use any charms, to draw their neighbor's corn into their own fields." There were several special edicts on the subject during[i.375] the existence of the Roman State. In the early Christian councils, sorcery was frequently made the object of denunciation. At Laodicea, for instance, in the year 364, it was voted to excommunicate any clergymen who were magicians, enchanters, astrologers, or mathematicians! The Bull of Pope Innocent VIII., near the close of the fifteenth century, has already been mentioned.

A complete and fair understanding of the roles and responsibilities of those involved in the events at Salem requires prior knowledge of the laws and principles that were in effect at the time and how they were interpreted by the courts and all parties involved in legal matters. While the ancients didn't always view supposed interactions between witches, sorcerers, and spiritual beings as criminal, they did create laws to prevent the misuse of the powers believed to come from such connections. The ancient Roman legal code of the Twelve Tables included a prohibition against "bewitching the fruits of the earth or using charms to bring their neighbor's grain into their own fields." There were various specific laws on this issue during[i.375] the time of the Roman Empire. In the early Christian councils, sorcery was often condemned. For example, at Laodicea in 364, it was decided to excommunicate any clergy members who were magicians, enchanters, astrologers, or mathematicians! The Bull of Pope Innocent VIII, towards the end of the fifteenth century, has already been referenced.

Dr. Turner, in his history of the Anglo-Saxons, says that they had laws against sorcerers and witches, but that they did not punish them with death. There was an English statute against witchcraft, in the reign of Henry VIII., and another in that of Elizabeth.

Dr. Turner, in his history of the Anglo-Saxons, states that they had laws against sorcerers and witches, but they did not execute them. There was an English law against witchcraft during Henry VIII's reign, and another one during Elizabeth's.

Up to this time, however, the legislation of parliament on the subject was merciful and judicious: for it did not attach to the guilt of witchcraft the punishment of death, unless it had been used to destroy life; that is, unless it had become murder.

Up until now, though, the laws passed by parliament on this topic were fair and reasonable: they didn’t impose the death penalty for witchcraft unless it had actually been used to take a life; in other words, unless it had turned into murder.

On the demise of Elizabeth, James of Scotland ascended the throne. His pedantic and eccentric character is well known. He had an early and decided inclination towards abstruse or mysterious speculations. Before he had reached his twentieth year, he undertook to accomplish what only the most sanguine and profound theologians have ever dared to attempt: he expounded the Book of Revelation. When he was about twenty-five years of age, he published a work on the "Doctrine of Devils and Witchcraft." Not long after, he succeeded to the British crown. It may easily be imagined that the subject of demonology[i.376] soon became a fashionable and prevailing topic of conversation in the royal saloons and throughout the nation. It served as a medium through which obsequious courtiers could convey their flattery to the ears of their accomplished and learned sovereign. His Majesty's book was reprinted and extensively circulated. It was of course praised and recommended in all quarters.

When Elizabeth passed away, James from Scotland took the throne. His pedantic and quirky personality is well-known. He had an early and strong interest in complex or mysterious ideas. By the time he was twenty, he attempted something that only the most optimistic and knowledgeable theologians had ever tried: he interpreted the Book of Revelation. Around the age of twenty-five, he published a work on the "Doctrine of Devils and Witchcraft." Shortly after, he became king of Great Britain. It's easy to imagine that the topic of demonology[i.376] quickly became a popular and widespread subject of conversation in royal gatherings and across the country. It provided a way for flattering courtiers to express their admiration to their educated and cultured king. His Majesty's book was reprinted and widely distributed, receiving praise and recommendations from all sides.

The parliament, actuated by a base desire to compliment the vain and superstitious king, enacted a new and much more severe statute against witchcraft, in the very first year of his reign. It was under this law that so many persons here and in England were deprived of their lives. The blood of hundreds of innocent persons was thus unrighteously shed. It was a fearful price which these servile lawgivers paid for the favor of their prince.

The parliament, driven by a selfish desire to flatter the vain and superstitious king, passed a new and much harsher law against witchcraft in the very first year of his reign. It was under this law that so many people here and in England lost their lives. The blood of hundreds of innocent people was unjustly spilled. It was a terrible price that these submissive lawmakers paid for the king's favor.

But this was not the only mischief brought about by courtly deference to the prejudices of King James. It was under his direction that our present translation of the Scriptures was made. To please His Royal Majesty, and to strengthen the arguments in his work on demonology, the word "witch" was used to represent expressions in the original Hebrew, that conveyed an entirely different idea; and it was freely inserted in the headings of the chapters.[B] A person having "a familiar spirit" was a favorite description of a witch in the king's book. The trans[i.377]lators, forgetful of their high and solemn function, endeavored to establish this definition by inserting it into their version. Accordingly, they introduced it in several places; in the eleventh verse of the eighteenth chapter of Deuteronomy, for instance, "a consulter with familiar spirits." There is no word in the Hebrew which corresponds with "familiar." And this is the important, the essential word in the definition. It conveys the idea of alliance, stated connection, confederacy, or compact, which is characteristic and distinctive of a witch. The expression in the original signifies "a consulter with spirits,"—especially, as was the case with the "Witch of Endor," a consulter with departed spirits. It was a shocking perversion of the word of God, for the purpose of flattering a frail and mortal sovereign! King James lived to see and acknowledge the error of his early opinions, and he would gladly have counteracted their bad effect; but it is easier to make laws and translations than it is to alter and amend them.

But this wasn’t the only trouble caused by the court's respect for King James’ biases. It was under his direction that we got our current translation of the Scriptures. To please His Royal Majesty and to support his arguments in his work on demonology, the word "witch" was used to translate terms in the original Hebrew that meant something completely different; it was also freely added to the chapter headings.[B] A person with "a familiar spirit" was a popular way to describe a witch in the king's book. The trans[i.377]lators, ignoring their significant and serious role, tried to enforce this definition by incorporating it into their version. They included it in various places, like in the eleventh verse of the eighteenth chapter of Deuteronomy, which mentions "a consulter with familiar spirits." There’s no Hebrew word that corresponds with "familiar," and this is the crucial word in the definition. It implies an alliance, stated connection, confederacy, or compact, which is typical and distinctive of a witch. The original phrase refers to "a consulter with spirits," especially, as was the case with the "Witch of Endor," someone who consults with departed spirits. It was a shocking distortion of the word of God, done to flatter a fragile and mortal king! King James lived long enough to see and admit the mistakes of his earlier beliefs, and he would have happily worked to undo their negative impact; however, it’s much easier to create laws and translations than it is to change and fix them.

While the law of the land required the capital punishment of witches, no blame ought to be attached to judges and jurors for discharging their respective duties in carrying it into execution. It will not do for us to assert, that they ought to have refused, let the consequences to themselves have been what they would, to sanction and give effect to such inhuman and unreasonable enactments. We cannot consistently take this ground; for there is nothing more certain than that, with their notions, our ancestors had at least as[i.378] good reasons to advance in favor of punishing witchcraft with death, as we have for punishing any crime whatsoever in the same awful and summary manner. We appeal, in defence of our capital punishments, to the text of Moses, "Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed." The apologist of our fathers, for carrying into effect the law making witchcraft a capital offence, tells us in reply, in the first place, that this passage is not of the nature of a precept, but merely of an admonition; that it does not enjoin any particular method of proceeding, but simply describes the natural consequences of cruel and contentious conduct; and that it amounts only to this: that quarrelsome, violent, and bloodthirsty persons will be apt to meet the same fate they bring upon others; that the duellist will be likely to fall in private combat, the ambitious conqueror to perish, and the warlike nation to be destroyed, on the field of battle. If this is not considered by us a sufficient and satisfactory answer, he advances to our own ground, points to the same text where we place our defence, and puts his finger on the following plain and authoritative precept: "Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live." Indeed we must acknowledge, that the capital punishment of witches is as strongly supported and fortified by the Scriptures of the Old Testament—at least, as they appear in our present version—as the capital punishment of any crime whatever.

While the law of the land mandated the death penalty for witches, judges and jurors shouldn’t be blamed for doing their jobs in enforcing it. It’s not reasonable for us to claim that they should have refused to support such inhumane and irrational laws, regardless of the personal consequences they might have faced. We can't consistently hold this view; after all, it’s clear that our ancestors had just as strong reasons for advocating for the death penalty for witchcraft as we do for punishing any crime in a similarly harsh and immediate way. We defend our death penalties by referencing the text of Moses: "Whoever sheds human blood, by humans shall their blood be shed." The defenders of our ancestors, who enforced the law that made witchcraft a capital offense, argue first that this passage isn't a direct command but simply a warning; it doesn't prescribe a specific method of action, but merely highlights the natural results of cruel and aggressive behavior. It essentially means that those who are quarrelsome, violent, and bloodthirsty are likely to face the same fate they impose on others; the duelist is expected to fall in combat, the ambitious conqueror is bound to perish, and the warlike nation is likely to be defeated on the battlefield. If this doesn't seem like a sufficient answer to us, they shift to our own argument, point to the same text we use for defense, and highlight this clear and authoritative command: "You shall not allow a witch to live." In fact, we must admit that the death penalty for witches is just as strongly backed by the Scriptures of the Old Testament—at least as they appear in our current version—as the death penalty for any crime whatsoever.

If we adopt another line of argument, and say that it is necessary to punish some particular crimes with[i.379] death, in order to maintain the security of society, or hold up an impressive warning to others, here also we find that our opponent has full as much to offer in defence of our fathers as can be offered in our own defence. He describes to us the tremendous and infernal power which was universally believed by them to be possessed by a witch; a power which, as it was not derived from a natural source, could not easily be held in check by natural restraints: neither chains nor dungeons could bind it down or confine it. You might load the witch with irons, you might bury her in the lowest cell of a feudal prison, and still it was believed that she could send forth her imps or her spectre to ravage the fields, and blight the meadows, and throw the elements into confusion, and torture the bodies, and craze the minds, of any who might be the objects of her malice.

If we take a different approach and argue that it's necessary to punish certain crimes with[i.379] death to maintain societal security or to serve as a strong warning to others, we find that our opponent has just as much to defend our ancestors as there is to support our own position. He describes the incredible and terrifying power that was widely believed to be held by a witch; a power that, because it didn't come from a natural source, couldn't easily be controlled by natural limits: no chains or prisons could contain it. You could burden the witch with shackles, you could bury her in the deepest cell of a feudal dungeon, and yet it was believed she could still unleash her imps or her spirit to destroy crops, ruin meadows, disrupt nature, and torment the bodies and minds of anyone who fell victim to her spite.

Shakspeare, in the description which he puts into the mouth of Macbeth of the supernatural energy of witchcraft, does not surpass, if he does justice to, the prevailing belief on the subject:—

Shakespeare, in the description he gives to Macbeth about the supernatural power of witchcraft, doesn’t go beyond, if he does justice to, the common belief on the topic:—

"I urge you, by what you claim to believe,
However you came to know it, answer me,—
Though you set the winds free, allowing them to battle Against the churches; even as the frothy waves Confuse and swallow navigation up; Even if the corn is bent and the trees are knocked down; Even though castles fall on their guardians' heads; Even though palaces and pyramids do have slopes Their heads are towards their foundations; although the treasure All of nature's seeds fall together, Even until destruction sickens, answer me. To what I'm asking you. [i.380]

There was indeed an almost infinite power to do mischief associated with a disposition to do it. No human strength could strip the witch of these mighty energies while she lived; nothing but death could destroy them. There was, as our ancestors considered, incontestable evidence, that she had put them forth to the injury, loss, and perhaps death, of others.

There was definitely an almost limitless ability to cause harm linked to a willingness to do so. No human force could strip the witch of these powerful abilities while she was alive; only death could take them away. Our ancestors believed there was undeniable proof that she had used them to harm, disadvantage, and possibly even kill others.

Can it be wondered at, that, under such circumstances, the law connecting capital punishment with the guilt of witchcraft was resorted to as the only means to protect society, and warn others from entering into the dark, wicked, and malignant compact?

Can we really be surprised that, in such a situation, the law linking capital punishment to the crime of witchcraft was used as the only way to protect society and deter others from engaging in that dark, evil, and harmful pact?

It is not probable that even King James's Parliament would have been willing to go to the length of Selden in his "Table-Talk," who takes this ground in defence of the capital punishment of witches. "The law against witches does not prove there be any, but it punishes the malice of those people that use such means to take away men's lives. If one should profess, that, by turning his hat thrice and crying 'Buzz,' he could take away a man's life (though in truth he could do no such thing), yet this were a just law made by the State, that whoever should turn his hat thrice and cry 'Buzz,' with an intention to take away a man's life, shall be put to death."

It's unlikely that even King James's Parliament would have gone as far as Selden in his "Table-Talk," where he argues for the death penalty for witches. "The law against witches doesn't prove they exist, but it punishes those who maliciously use such methods to end lives. If someone claimed that by turning his hat three times and saying 'Buzz,' he could end a man's life (even though he couldn't actually do that), it would still be a fair law established by the State that anyone who turns his hat three times and says 'Buzz' with the intent to take a man's life should be sentenced to death."

There are other considerations that deserve to be weighed before a final judgment should be made up respecting the conduct of our fathers in the witchcraft delusion. Among these is the condition of physical science in their day. But little knowledge of the[i.381] laws of nature was possessed, and that little was confined to a few. The world was still, to the mass of the people, almost as full of mystery in its physical departments as it was to its first inhabitants. Politics, poetry, rhetoric, ethics, and history had been cultivated to a great extent in previous ages; but the philosophy of the natural and material world was almost unknown. Astronomy, chemistry, optics, pneumatics, and even geography, were involved in the general darkness and error. Some of our most important sciences, such as electricity, date their origin from a later period.

There are other things to consider before making a final judgment about the actions of our ancestors during the witchcraft hysteria. One of these is the state of physical science during their time. Very little knowledge of the[i.381] laws of nature existed, and that knowledge was limited to a select few. For most people, the world was still full of mysteries in its physical aspects, much like it was for the first inhabitants. Politics, poetry, rhetoric, ethics, and history had been extensively studied in earlier times, but the philosophy of the natural and material world was nearly unknown. Fields like astronomy, chemistry, optics, pneumatics, and even geography were shrouded in general ignorance and misconceptions. Some of our most crucial sciences, like electricity, emerged later on.

This remarkable tardiness in the progress of physical science for some time after the era of the revival of learning is to be accounted for by referring to the erroneous methods of reasoning and observation then prevalent in the world. A false logic was adopted in the schools of learning and philosophy. The great instrument for the discovery and investigation of truth was the syllogism, the most absurd contrivance of the human mind; an argumentative process whose conclusion is contained in the premises; a method of proof, in the first step of which the matter to be proved is taken for granted.[C] In a word, the whole system of philosophy was made up of hypotheses, and[i.382] the only foundation of science was laid in conjecture. The imagination, called necessarily into extraordinary action, in the absence of scientific certainty, was still further exercised in vain attempts to discover, unassisted by observation and experiment, the elements and first principles of nature. It had reached a monstrous growth about the time to which we are referring. Indeed it may be said, that all the intellectual productions of modern times, from the seventeenth century back to the dark ages, were works of imagination. The bulkiest and most voluminous writings that proceeded from the cloisters or the universities, even the metaphysical disquisitions of the Nominalists and Realists, and the boundless subtleties of the contending schools of the "Divine Doctors," Thomas Aquinas and Duns Scotus, fall under this description. Dull, dreary, unintelligible, and interminable as they are, they are still in reality works of fancy. They are the offspring, almost exclusively, of the imaginative faculty. It ought not to create surprise, to find that this faculty predominated in the minds and characters of our ancestors, and developed itself to an extent beyond our conception, when we reflect that it was almost the only one called into exercise, and that it was the leading element of every branch of literature and philosophy.

This significant delay in the advancement of physical science for some time after the revival of learning can be attributed to the flawed methods of reasoning and observation that were common at the time. Schools of thought adopted incorrect logic. The primary tool for discovering and investigating truth was the syllogism, which is one of the most absurd constructs of the human mind; it’s an argumentative process where the conclusion is already contained in the premises, a proof method that assumes what it aims to demonstrate right from the start.[C] In short, the entire system of philosophy consisted of hypotheses, and[i.382] the only basis of science was laid on conjecture. The imagination, forced into extraordinary action in the absence of scientific certainty, was also further strained in futile attempts to uncover, without the aid of observation and experiment, the elements and fundamental principles of nature. It had reached an excessive level by the time we’re discussing. In fact, one might say that all the intellectual output of modern times, from the seventeenth century back to the dark ages, was the result of imagination. The largest and most extensive writings that came from monasteries or universities, even the metaphysical discussions of the Nominalists and Realists, and the endless complexities of the competing schools of the "Divine Doctors," Thomas Aquinas and Duns Scotus, fall into this category. Boring, dreary, unintelligible, and endless as they are, they are, at their core, works of imagination. They are largely the result of the imaginative faculty. It shouldn’t be surprising to see that this faculty dominated the minds and personalities of our ancestors, developing to an extent beyond our understanding, especially when considering it was almost the only one actively engaged and the main element of every field of literature and philosophy.

It is true, that, in the earlier part of the seventeenth century, Lord Bacon made his sublime discoveries in the department of physical science. By disclosing the true method of investigation and reasoning on such subjects, he may be said to have found, or rather to have invented, the key that unlocked the hitherto unopened halls of nature. He introduced man to the secret chambers of the universe, and placed in his hand the thread by which he has been conducted to the magnificent results of modern science, and will undoubtedly be led on to results still more magnificent in times to come. But it was not for human nature to pass in a moment from darkness to light. The transition was slow and gradual: a long twilight intervened before the sun shed its clear and full radiance upon the world.

It’s true that in the early part of the seventeenth century, Lord Bacon made remarkable discoveries in physical science. By revealing the right way to investigate and reason about these subjects, he basically discovered, or rather created, the key that opened the previously closed doors of nature. He introduced humanity to the hidden areas of the universe and gave us the means to explore the incredible achievements of modern science, and he will undoubtedly lead us to even greater discoveries in the future. However, it wasn’t in human nature to transition from darkness to light all at once. The change was slow and gradual: a long twilight existed before the sun could shine its clear and bright light on the world.

The great discoverer himself refused to admit, or was unable to discern, some of the truths his system had revealed. Bacon was numbered among the opponents of the Copernican or true system of astronomy to the day of his death; so also was Sir Thomas Browne, the great philosopher already described, and who flourished during the latter half of the same century. Indeed, it may be said, that, at the time of the witchcraft delusion, the ancient empire of darkness which had oppressed and crushed the world of science had hardly been shaken. The great and triumphant progress of modern discovery had scarcely begun.

The great discoverer himself refused to acknowledge, or simply couldn't see, some of the truths his system had revealed. Bacon remained among the critics of the Copernican or true system of astronomy until his death; the same goes for Sir Thomas Browne, the renowned philosopher already mentioned, who thrived during the latter half of the same century. In fact, it can be said that, during the period of the witchcraft delusion, the ancient empire of darkness that had stifled and suppressed the world of science had barely been disturbed. The significant and victorious progress of modern discovery had only just begun.

I shall now proceed to illustrate these views of the state of science in the world at that time by presenting[i.384] a few instances. The slightest examination of the accounts which remain of occurrences deemed supernatural by our ancestors will satisfy any one that they were brought about by causes entirely natural, although unknown to them. For instance, the following circumstances are related by the Rev. James Pierpont, pastor of a church in New Haven, in a letter to Cotton Mather, and published by him in his "Magnalia:"[D]

I will now illustrate these views on the state of science in the world at that time by providing[i.384] a few examples. A quick look at the accounts left behind of events considered supernatural by our ancestors will show anyone that they were caused by entirely natural factors, even if those factors were unknown to them. For example, the Rev. James Pierpont, a pastor in New Haven, described the following events in a letter to Cotton Mather, which he later published in his "Magnalia:"[D]

In the year 1646, a new ship, containing a valuable cargo, and having several distinguished persons on board as passengers, put to sea from New Haven in the month of January, bound to England. The vessels that came over the ensuing spring brought no tidings of her arrival in the mother-country. The pious colonists were earnest and instant in their prayers that intelligence might be received of the missing vessel. In the month of June, 1648, "a great thunder-storm arose out of the north-west; after which (the hemisphere being serene), about an hour before sunset, a ship of like dimensions with the aforesaid, with her canvas and colors abroad (although[i.385] the wind was northerly), appeared in the air, coming up from the harbor's mouth, which lies southward from the town,—seemingly with her sails filled under a fresh gale, holding her course north, and continuing under observation, sailing against the wind for the space of half an hour." The phantom-ship was borne along, until, to the excited imaginations of the spectators, she seemed to have approached so near that they could throw a stone into her. Her main-topmast then disappeared, then her mizzen-topmast; then her masts were entirely carried away; and, finally, her hull fell off, and vanished from sight,—leaving a dull and smoke-colored cloud, which soon dissolved, and the whole atmosphere became clear. All affirmed that the airy vision was a precise copy and image of the missing vessel, and that it was sent to announce and describe her fate. They considered it the spectre of the lost ship; and the Rev. Mr. Davenport declared in public, "that God had condescended, for the quieting their afflicted spirits, this extraordinary account of his sovereign disposal of those for whom so many fervent prayers were made continually."

In 1646, a new ship with a valuable cargo and several notable passengers set sail from New Haven in January, headed for England. The vessels that arrived in the following spring brought no news of her reaching the motherland. The devout colonists were fervent and urgent in their prayers for information about the missing ship. In June 1648, "a huge thunderstorm came from the northwest; after which (the sky being clear), about an hour before sunset, a ship similar in size to the one mentioned earlier, with her sails and colors up (even though[i.385] the wind was coming from the north), appeared in the sky, coming in from the harbor's mouth, which is south of the town—seemingly with her sails filled by a fresh breeze, heading north, and remaining in view as she sailed against the wind for about half an hour." The ghostly ship moved along, until to the viewers' vivid imaginations, it seemed to be so close that they could throw a stone at her. Then her main topmast disappeared, followed by her mizzen topmast; soon, her masts were completely gone, and finally, her hull slipped away and vanished from sight—leaving a dull, smoke-colored cloud that quickly dissolved, clearing the entire atmosphere. Everyone affirmed that the ethereal vision was an exact copy of the missing vessel, sent to reveal and describe her fate. They considered it the ghost of the lost ship; and Rev. Mr. Davenport publicly declared, "that God had graciously, for the comfort of their troubled spirits, provided this extraordinary account of His sovereign will concerning those for whom so many heartfelt prayers were offered continuously."

The results of modern science enable us to explain the mysterious appearance. It is probable that some Dutch vessel, proceeding slowly, quietly, and unconsciously on her voyage from Amsterdam to the New Netherlands, happened at the time to be passing through the Sound. At the moment the apparition was seen in the sky, she was so near, that her reflected image was painted or delineated, to the eyes of the[i.386] observers, on the clouds, by laws of optics now generally well known, before her actual outlines could be discerned by them on the horizon. As the sun sunk behind the western hills, and his rays were gradually withdrawn, the visionary ship slowly disappeared; and the approach of night effectually concealed the vessel as she continued her course along the Sound.

The findings of modern science help us explain this mysterious sighting. It’s likely that a Dutch ship, moving slowly and quietly on its journey from Amsterdam to the New Netherlands, happened to be passing through the Sound at that moment. When the apparition was seen in the sky, it was so close that its reflected image appeared to the observers on the clouds, due to optical laws that are now well understood, before they could actually see the ship on the horizon. As the sun set behind the western hills and its rays faded, the ghostly ship slowly vanished; and as night fell, it effectively hid the vessel as it continued its journey along the Sound.

The optical illusions that present themselves on the sea-shore, by which distant objects are raised to view, the opposite capes and islands made to loom up, lifted above the line of the apparent circumference of the earth, and thrown into every variety of shape which the imagination can conceive, are among the most beautiful phenomena of nature; and they impress the mind with the idea of enchantment and mystery, more perhaps than any others: but they have received a complete solution from modern discovery.

The optical illusions at the beach, where distant objects appear elevated, where far-off capes and islands seem to rise above the horizon, and where shapes shift into nearly anything one's imagination can conjure, are some of the most stunning natural phenomena. They evoke a sense of magic and mystery, perhaps more so than any other experiences. However, modern discoveries have fully explained these illusions.

It should be observed, that the optical principles which explain these phenomena have recently afforded a foundation for the science, or rather art, of nauscopy; and there are persons in some places,—in the Isle of France, as I have been told,—whose calling and profession is to ascertain and predict the approach of vessels, by their reflection in the atmosphere and on the clouds, long before they are visible to the eye, or through the glass.

It’s worth noting that the optical principles that explain these phenomena have recently laid the groundwork for the science—or more accurately, the art—of nauscopy. There are individuals in certain locations—among them, the Isle of France, as I’ve been informed—whose job is to determine and predict the approach of ships by observing their reflections in the atmosphere and on the clouds, long before they can be seen with the naked eye or through a telescope.

The following opinion prevailed at the time of our narrative. The discoveries in electricity, itself a recent science, have rendered it impossible for us to contemplate it without ridicule. But it was the sober[i.387] opinion of the age. "A great man has noted it," says a learned writer, "that thunders break oftener on churches than any other houses, because demons have a peculiar spite at houses that are set apart for the peculiar service of God."

The prevailing opinion during our story was that the discoveries in electricity, a relatively new science, made it impossible to view it seriously. However, that was the serious opinion of the time. "A great man has observed," says a knowledgeable writer, "that lightning strikes churches more often than any other buildings because demons have a particular grudge against places dedicated to the service of God."

Every thing that was strange or remarkable—every thing at all out of the usual course, every thing that was not clear and plain—was attributed to supernatural interposition. Indeed, our fathers lived, as they thought, continually in the midst of miracles; and felt themselves surrounded, at all times, in all scenes, with innumerable invisible beings. The beautiful verse of Milton describes their faith:—

Every strange or remarkable thing—anything that was out of the ordinary, anything that wasn’t clear and straightforward—was seen as a result of supernatural intervention. In fact, our ancestors believed they lived constantly among miracles; they felt surrounded at all times, in every situation, by countless invisible beings. The beautiful verse of Milton captures their faith:—

Millions of spiritual beings roam the earth
"Unseen, both when we wake up and when we sleep."

What was to him, however, a momentary vision of the imagination, was to them like a perpetual perception of the senses: it was a practical belief, an everyday common sentiment, an all-pervading feeling. But these supernatural beings very frequently were believed to have become visible to our superstitious ancestors. The instances, indeed, were not rare, of individuals having seen the Devil himself with their mortal eyes. They may well be brought to notice, as illustrating the ideas which then prevailed, and had an immediate, practical effect on the conduct of men, in reference to the power, presence, and action of the Devil in human affairs. This, in fact, is necessary, that we may understand the narrative we are preparing to contemplate of transactions based wholly on those ideas.[i.388]

What was just a fleeting vision in his mind felt like a constant reality to them: it was a practical belief, a common everyday sentiment, an all-encompassing feeling. Supernatural beings were often thought to have appeared to our superstitious ancestors. Indeed, there were many instances of people claiming to have seen the Devil himself with their own eyes. These examples are worth noting, as they illustrate the beliefs of the time, which directly influenced how people acted regarding the power, presence, and influence of the Devil in their lives. This understanding is necessary for us to grasp the story we are about to explore, which is entirely based on those beliefs.[i.388]

The following passage is extracted from a letter written to Increase Mather by the Rev. John Higginson:—

The following passage is taken from a letter written to Increase Mather by Rev. John Higginson:—

"The godly Mr. Sharp, who was ruling elder of the church of Salem almost thirty years after, related it of himself, that, being bred up to learning till he was eighteen years old, and then taken off, and put to be an apprentice to a draper in London, he yet notwithstanding continued a strong inclination and eager affection to books, with a curiosity of hearkening after and reading of the strangest and oddest books he could get, spending much of his time that way to the neglect of his business. At one time, there came a man into the shop, and brought a book with him, and said to him, 'Here is a book for you, keep this till I call for it again;' and so went away. Mr. Sharp, after his wonted bookish manner, was eagerly affected to look into that book, and read it, which he did: but, as he read in it, he was seized on by a strange kind of horror, both of body and mind, the hair of his head standing up; and, finding these effects several times, he acquainted his master with it, who, observing the same effects, they concluded it was a conjuring book, and resolved to burn it, which they did. He that brought it in the shape of a man never coming to call for it, they concluded it was the Devil. He, taking this as a solemn warning from God to take heed what books he read, was much taken off from his former bookishness; confining himself to reading the Bible, and other known good books of divinity, which were profitable to his soul."

"The pious Mr. Sharp, who served as the ruling elder of the Salem church for almost thirty years afterward, recounted that he was raised with an education until he was eighteen, but then taken away from his studies and apprenticed to a draper in London. Nevertheless, he still had a strong inclination and deep affection for books, along with a curiosity to seek out and read the strangest and most unusual books he could find, often spending much of his time this way at the expense of his work. One day, a man entered the shop with a book and said to him, 'Here’s a book for you; keep this until I come back for it.' Then he left. Mr. Sharp, as was his usual bookish habit, felt a strong urge to look into that book and read it. However, as he read, he was gripped by a strange kind of horror, both physical and mental, causing the hairs on his head to stand up. After experiencing these effects several times, he informed his master about it. His master, also noticing the same effects, concluded that it was a conjuring book, and they decided to burn it. The man who brought it never returned to claim it, leading them to conclude it was the Devil. Taking this as a serious warning from God to be careful about the books he read, Mr. Sharp became much less consumed by his previous bookishness, focusing instead on reading the Bible and other well-regarded, beneficial books on theology that were good for his soul."

Kircher relates the following anecdote, with a full belief of its truth: He had a friend who was zealously and perseveringly devoted to the study of al[i.389]chemy. At one time, while he was intent upon his operations, a gentleman entered his laboratory, and kindly offered to assist him. In a few moments, a large mass of the purest gold was brought forth from the crucible. The gentleman then took his hat, and went out: before leaving the apartment, however, he wrote a recipe for making the precious article. The grateful and admiring mortal continued his operations, according to the directions of his visitor; but the charm was lost: he could not succeed, and was at last completely ruined by his costly and fruitless experiments. Both he and his friend Kircher were fully persuaded that the mysterious stranger-visitor was the Devil.

Kircher shares the following story, completely believing it's true: He had a friend who was passionately and persistently dedicated to studying alchemy. One day, while he was focused on his work, a man entered his lab and kindly offered to help. Moments later, a large lump of the purest gold was pulled from the crucible. The man then took his hat and left, but not before writing down a recipe for producing the valuable substance. The grateful and amazed man continued his work, following the instructions from his visitor; however, the magic was gone: he couldn't succeed and ultimately ended up completely broke from his expensive and unsuccessful experiments. Both he and his friend Kircher firmly believed that the mysterious visitor was the Devil.

Baxter has recorded a curious interview between Satan and Mr. White, of Dorchester, assessor to the Westminster Assembly:—

Baxter has documented an interesting conversation between Satan and Mr. White, from Dorchester, who is an assessor to the Westminster Assembly:—

"The Devil, in a light night, stood by his bedside. The assessor looked a while, whether he would say or do any thing, and then said, 'If thou hast nothing to do, I have;' and so turned himself to sleep." Dr. Hibbert is of opinion, that the Rev. Mr. White treated his satanic majesty, on this occasion, with "a cool contempt, to which he had not often been accustomed."

"The Devil, on a bright night, stood by his bedside. The assessor watched for a moment to see if he would say or do anything, then said, 'If you have nothing to do, I do;' and turned back to sleep." Dr. Hibbert believes that the Rev. Mr. White showed his satanic majesty "a cool contempt, which he wasn't used to."

Indeed, there is nothing more curious or instructive, in the history of that period, than the light which it sheds upon the influence of the belief of the personal existence and operations of the Devil, when that belief is carried out fully into its practical effects. The Christian doctrine had relapsed into a system almost identical with Manicheism. Wierus thus describes[i.390] Satan, as he was regarded in the prevalent theology: "He possesses great courage, incredible cunning, superhuman wisdom, the most acute penetration, consummate prudence, an incomparable skill in veiling the most pernicious artifices under a specious disguise, and a malicious and infinite hatred towards the human race, implacable and incurable." Milton merely responded to the popular sentiment in making Satan a character of lofty dignity, and in placing him on an elevation not "less than archangel ruined." Hallywell, in his work on witchcraft, declares that "that mighty angel of darkness is not foolishly nor idly to be scoffed at or blasphemed. The Devil," says he, "may properly be looked upon as a dignity, though his glory be pale and wan, and those once bright and orient colors faded and darkened in his robes; and the Scriptures represent him as a prince, though it be of devils." Although our fathers cannot be charged with having regarded the Devil in this respectful and deferential light, it must be acknowledged that they gave him a conspicuous and distinguished—we might almost say a dignified—agency in the affairs of life and the government of the world: they were prone to confess, if not to revere, his presence, in all scenes and at all times. He occupied a wide space, not merely in their theology and philosophy, but in their daily and familiar thoughts.[E]

Indeed, there is nothing more interesting or educational in the history of that time than the insight it provides into the impact of the belief in the Devil's personal existence and actions, especially when that belief is fully realized in its practical effects. The Christian doctrine had reverted to a system nearly identical to Manicheism. Wierus describes[i.390] Satan as he was perceived in the prevailing theology: "He has great bravery, incredible cunning, superhuman wisdom, sharp insight, perfect judgment, unmatched skill in hiding harmful tricks under a deceptive appearance, and an endless, unforgiving hatred for humanity." Milton only echoed the popular sentiment by portraying Satan as a character of high dignity and placing him on a level "not less than archangel ruined." Hallywell, in his work on witchcraft, states that "that mighty angel of darkness should not be foolishly or carelessly mocked or cursed. The Devil," he says, "can rightly be seen as a figure of dignity, even if his glory is dim and his once-bright colors have faded and darkened in his garments; and the Scriptures portray him as a prince, albeit of devils." Although our ancestors cannot be accused of seeing the Devil in this respectful and deferential way, it must be acknowledged that they granted him a notable and distinguished—we might even say dignified—role in the affairs of life and the governance of the world: they were inclined to acknowledge, if not to honor, his presence in all situations and at all times. He occupied a significant space, not only in their theology and philosophy but also in their everyday and familiar thoughts.[E]

Cotton Mather, in one of his sermons, carries home this peculiar belief to the consciences of his hearers, in a manner that could not have failed to quicken and startle the most dull and drowsy among them.

Cotton Mather, in one of his sermons, drives this unique belief into the minds of his listeners in a way that surely would have awakened and jolted even the most sluggish and sleepy among them.

"No place," says he, "that I know of, has got such a spell upon it as will always keep the Devil out. The meeting-house, wherein we assemble for the worship of God, is filled with many holy people and many holy concerns continually; but, if our eyes were so refined as the servant of the prophet had his of old, I suppose we should now see a throng of devils in this very place. The apostle has intimated that angels come in among us: there are angels, it seems, that hark how I preach, and how you hear, at this hour. And our own sad experience is enough to intimate that the devils are likewise rendezvousing here. It is reported in Job i. 5, 'When the sons of God came to present themselves before the Lord, Satan came also among them.' When we are in our church assemblies, oh, how many devils, do you imagine, crowd in among us! There is a devil that rocks one to sleep. There is a devil that makes another to be thinking of, he scarcely knows what himself. And there is a devil that makes another to be pleasing himself with wanton and wicked speculations. It is also possible, that we have our closets or our studies gloriously perfumed with devotions every day; but, alas! can we shut the Devil out of them? No: let us go where we will, we shall still find a devil nigh unto us. Only when we come to heaven, we shall be out of his reach for ever."

"No place," he says, "that I know of has such a hold on it that can always keep the Devil out. The meeting house, where we gather to worship God, is filled with many holy people and many sacred matters all the time; but if our eyes were as refined as the servant of the prophet’s back in the day, I suppose we would see a crowd of devils right here. The apostle suggested that angels come among us: it seems there are angels who listen to how I preach and how you hear me at this moment. And our own unfortunate experiences are enough to indicate that the devils are also gathering here. It's mentioned in Job 1:5, 'When the sons of God came to present themselves before the Lord, Satan came also among them.' When we are in our church gatherings, oh, how many devils do you think crowd in among us! There’s a devil that lulls one to sleep. There’s a devil that makes another think of things he barely understands himself. And there's a devil that encourages another to indulge in harmful and wicked thoughts. It's also possible that we have our private rooms or studies beautifully filled with devotions every day; but, alas! can we really keep the Devil out of them? No: wherever we go, we will always find a devil close by. Only when we reach heaven will we be out of his reach forever."

It is very remarkable, that such a train of thought as this did not suggest to the mind of Dr. Mather the true doctrine of the Bible respecting the Devil. One would have supposed, that, in carrying out the mode of speaking of him as a person to this extent, it would have occurred to him, that it might be that the scriptural expressions of a similar kind were also mere personifications of moral and abstract ideas. In describing the inattention, irreverence, and unholy reflections of his hearers as the operations of the Devil, it is wonderful that his eyes were not opened to discern the import of our Saviour's interpretation of the Parable of the Tares, in which he declares, that he understands by the Devil whatever obstructs the growth of virtue and piety in the soul, the causes that efface good impressions and give a wrong inclination to the thoughts and affections, such as "the cares of this world" or "the deceitfulness of riches." By these are the tares planted, and by these is their growth promoted. "The enemy that sowed them is the Devil."

It's quite surprising that Dr. Mather didn't realize the true doctrine of the Bible regarding the Devil. One would think that by discussing him as a person to this extent, he would have considered that similar scriptural expressions might just be personifications of moral and abstract ideas. In describing the inattention, irreverence, and unholy thoughts of his listeners as the actions of the Devil, it's astonishing that he didn't recognize the meaning of our Savior's explanation of the Parable of the Tares, where he explains that the Devil refers to anything that hinders the growth of virtue and piety in the soul, the factors that erase good influences and lead thoughts and feelings astray, like "the cares of this world" or "the deceitfulness of riches." These are what plant the tares and help them grow. "The enemy that sowed them is the Devil."

Satan was regarded as the foe and opposer of all improvement in knowledge and civilization. The same writer thus quaintly expresses this opinion: He "has hindered mankind, for many ages, from hitting those useful inventions which yet were so obvious and facile that it is everybody's wonder that they were not sooner hit upon. The bemisted world must jog on for thousands of years without the knowledge of the loadstone, till a Neapolitan stumbled upon it about three hundred years ago. Nor must the world be blessed with[i.393] such a matchless engine of learning and virtue as that of printing, till about the middle of the fifteenth century. Nor could one old man, all over the face of the whole earth, have the benefit of such a little, though most needful, thing as a pair of spectacles, till a Dutchman, a little while ago, accommodated us. Indeed, as the Devil does begrudge us all manner of good, so he does annoy us with all manner of woe." In one of his sermons, Cotton Mather claimed for himself and his clerical brethren the honor of being particularly obnoxious to the malice of the Evil One. "The ministers of God," says he, "are more dogged by the Devil than other persons are."

Satan was seen as the enemy and opponent of all progress in knowledge and civilization. The same writer expresses this idea in an old-fashioned way: He "has kept humanity from discovering useful inventions that were so obvious and simple that everyone wonders why they weren't found out sooner. The confused world had to go for thousands of years without knowing about the magnet until a Neapolitan discovered it about three hundred years ago. And the world didn't get the blessing of[i.393] a remarkable tool for learning and virtue like the printing press until around the mid-fifteenth century. Moreover, no one on the entire planet could benefit from such a small but essential thing as a pair of glasses until a Dutchman helped us out not too long ago. Indeed, just as the Devil resents all good things, he also troubles us with all sorts of misfortunes." In one of his sermons, Cotton Mather claimed that he and his fellow ministers were particularly targeted by the malice of the Evil One. "The ministers of God," he said, "are more relentlessly pursued by the Devil than anyone else."

Without a knowledge of this sentiment, the witchcraft delusion of our fathers cannot be understood. They were under an impression, that the Devil, having failed to prevent the progress of knowledge in Europe, had abandoned his efforts to obstruct it effectually there; had withdrawn into the American wilderness, intending here to make a final stand; and had resolved to retain an undiminished empire over the whole continent and his pagan allies, the native inhabitants. Our fathers accounted for the extraordinary descent and incursions of the Evil One among them, in 1692, on the supposition that it was a desperate effort to prevent them from bringing civilization and Christianity within his favorite retreat; and their souls were fired with the glorious thought, that, by carrying on the war with vigor against him and his confederates, the witches, they would become chosen and honored[i.394] instruments in the hand of God for breaking down and abolishing the last stronghold on the earth of the kingdom of darkness.

Without understanding this feeling, the witchcraft hysteria of our ancestors makes no sense. They believed that the Devil, having failed to stop the spread of knowledge in Europe, had given up trying to effectively hinder it there; he had retreated to the American wilderness, planning to make a final stand; and had decided to maintain an unchallenged grip over the entire continent and his pagan allies, the native peoples. Our ancestors explained the unusual rise and attacks of the Evil One among them in 1692 by thinking that it was a desperate attempt to keep them from spreading civilization and Christianity into his favored hideaway; and their spirits were ignited by the proud belief that, by vigorously waging war against him and his accomplices, the witches, they would become chosen and honored[i.394] instruments of God for dismantling and destroying the last stronghold of the kingdom of darkness on Earth.

That this opinion was not merely a conceit of their vanity, or an overweening estimate of their local importance, but a calm, deliberate conviction entertained by others as well as themselves, can be shown by abundant evidence from the literature of that period. I will quote a single illustration of the form in which this thought occupied their minds. The subject is worthy of being thoroughly appreciated, as it affords the key that opens to view the motives and sentiments which gave the mighty impetus to the witchcraft prosecution here in New England.

That this belief was not just a self-serving idea or an inflated view of their local significance, but a calm, considered conviction shared by others as well, can be supported by plenty of evidence from the literature of that time. I will provide one example of how this thought influenced their thinking. This topic deserves a thorough understanding, as it provides the key to understanding the motivations and feelings that fueled the witchcraft trials here in New England.

Joseph Mede, B.D., Fellow of Christ's College, in Cambridge, England, died in 1638, at the age of fifty-three years. He was perhaps, all things considered, the most profound scholar of his times. His writings give evidence of a brilliant genius and an enlightened spirit. They were held in the highest esteem by his contemporaries of all denominations, and in all parts of Europe. He was a Churchman; but had, to a remarkable degree, the confidence of nonconformists. He entertained, as will appear by what follows, in the boldest form, the then prevalent opinions concerning diabolical agency and influence; but, at the same time, was singularly free from some of the worst traits of superstition and bigotry. His intimacy with the learned Dr. William Ames, and the general tone and tendency of his writings, naturally made him an[i.395] authority with Protestants, particularly the Pilgrims and Puritans of New England. His posthumous writings, published in 1652, are exceedingly interesting. They contain fragments found among his papers, brief discussions of points of criticism, philosophy, and theology, and a varied correspondence on such subjects with eminent men of his day. Among his principal correspondents was Dr. William Twiss, himself a person of much ingenious learning, and whom John Norton, as we are told by Cotton Mather, "loved and admired" above all men of that age. The following passages between them illustrate the point before us.

Joseph Mede, B.D., a Fellow of Christ's College, Cambridge, England, died in 1638 at the age of fifty-three. Considering everything, he was likely the most profound scholar of his time. His writings reflect a brilliant mind and enlightened spirit. They were highly regarded by his contemporaries across all denominations and throughout Europe. He was a Churchman but had a remarkable level of trust from nonconformists. He boldly entertained the then-popular ideas about demonic influence and activity, yet he was notably free from many of the worst aspects of superstition and bigotry. His close relationship with the learned Dr. William Ames, along with the overall tone and direction of his work, naturally made him an[i.395] authority among Protestants, particularly the Pilgrims and Puritans of New England. His posthumous writings, published in 1652, are incredibly interesting. They include fragments found among his papers, brief discussions of various critical points, philosophy, and theology, as well as diverse correspondence on these topics with prominent figures of his time. Among his key correspondents was Dr. William Twiss, a person of great intellect, whom John Norton, as noted by Cotton Mather, "loved and admired" more than any other man of that era. The following passages between them illustrate the point we’re discussing.

In a letter dated March 2, 1634, Twiss writes thus:—

In a letter dated March 2, 1634, Twiss writes:—

"Now, I beseech you, let me know what your opinion is of our English plantations in the New World. Heretofore, I have wondered in my thoughts at the providence of God concerning that world; not discovered till this Old World of ours is almost at an end; and then no footsteps found of the knowledge of the true God, much less of Christ; and then considering our English plantations of late, and the opinion of many grave divines concerning the gospel's fleeting westward. Sometimes I have had such thoughts, Why may not that be the place of the New Jerusalem? But you have handsomely and fully cleared me from such odd conceits. But what, I pray? Shall our English there degenerate, and join themselves with Gog and Magog? We have heard lately divers ways, that our people there have no hope of the conversion of the natives. And, the very week after I received your last letter, I saw a letter, written from New[i.396] England, discoursing of an impossibility of subsisting there; and seems to prefer the confession of God's truth in any condition here in Old England, rather than run over to enjoy their liberty there; yea, and that the gospel is like to be more dear in New England than in Old. And, lastly, unless they be exceeding careful, and God wonderfully merciful, they are like to lose that life and zeal for God and his truth in New England which they enjoyed in Old; as whereof they have already woful experience, and many there feel it to their smart."

"Now, please tell me what you think about our English colonies in the New World. Until now, I’ve been pondering God’s plan for that place; it wasn’t discovered until our Old World was almost finished, and there’s no sign of the true God, let alone Christ. Considering our recent English colonies and the opinions of many serious theologians about the gospel moving westward, I sometimes wondered, why can’t that be the New Jerusalem? But you have effectively set me straight on those strange thoughts. But I ask you, will our English people there go downhill and associate with Gog and Magog? Recently, we’ve heard various reports that our people there have no hope of converting the natives. The week after I got your last letter, I read a letter from New[i.396] England discussing the impossibility of surviving there, suggesting it’s better to confess God’s truth in any situation here in Old England than to go there for freedom; indeed, that the gospel may end up being more precious in New England than back home. Finally, unless they're extremely careful and God is extraordinarily merciful, they risk losing the life and zeal for God and His truth in New England that they enjoyed in the Old Country, which they have already painfully experienced, and many are feeling the impact."

Mr. Mede's answer was as follows:—

Mr. Mede's response was as follows:—

"Concerning our plantations in the American world, I wish them as well as anybody; though I differ from them far, both in other things, and on the grounds they go upon. And though there be but little hope of the general conversion of those natives or any considerable part of that continent, yet I suppose it may be a work pleasing to Almighty God and our blessed Saviour to affront the Devil with the sound of the gospel and the cross of Christ, in those places where he had thought to have reigned securely, and out of the din thereof; and, though we make no Christians there, yet to bring some thither to disturb and vex him, where he reigned without check.

"Regarding our plantations in the Americas, I wish them well, just like anyone else; although I have significant differences with them on various issues and their underlying beliefs. Even though there isn’t much hope for the widespread conversion of the natives or any substantial part of that continent, I believe it would still please Almighty God and our blessed Savior to confront the Devil with the message of the gospel and the cross of Christ in those places where he thought he could rule freely. And even if we don’t create any Christians there, bringing some people into those areas would still disturb and challenge him where he previously reigned unchecked."

"For that I may reveal my conceit further, though perhaps I cannot prove it, yet I think thus,—that those countries were first inhabited since our Saviour and his apostles' times, and not before; yea, perhaps, some ages after, there being no signs or footsteps found among them, or any monuments of older habitation, as there is with us.

"For that I may share my opinion more openly, although I might not be able to prove it, I believe this: that those countries were first settled after the time of our Savior and his apostles, and not before; in fact, maybe some ages later, since there are no signs or evidence of earlier inhabitants, or any monuments of previous habitation, as we have here."

"That the Devil, being impatient of the sound of the gospel and cross of Christ, in every part of this Old World,[i.397] so that he could in no place be quiet for it; and foreseeing that he was like to lose all here; so he thought to provide himself of a seed over which he might reign securely, and in a place ubi nec Pelopidarum facta neque nomen audiret. That, accordingly, he drew a colony out of some of those barbarous nations dwelling upon the Northern Ocean (whither the sound of Christ had not yet come), and promising them by some oracle to show them a country far better than their own (which he might soon do), pleasant and large, where never man yet inhabited; he conducted them over those desert lands and islands (of which there are many in that sea) by the way of the north into America, which none would ever have gone, had they not first been assured there was a passage that way into a more desirable country. Namely, as when the world apostatized from the worship of the true God, God called Abraham out of Chaldee into the land of Canaan, of him to raise a seed to preserve a light unto his name: so the Devil, when he saw the world apostatizing from him, laid the foundations of a new kingdom, by deducting this colony from the north into America, where they have increased since into an innumerable multitude. And where did the Devil ever reign more absolutely, and without control, since mankind first fell under his clutches?

That the Devil, unable to stand the sound of the gospel and the cross of Christ throughout this Old World,[i.397] found no peace because of it; and knowing that he was about to lose everything here, he decided to create a following over which he could rule freely, in a place where neither the deeds of the Pelopidae nor their name would be heard. So, he took a group from some of the barbaric nations living by the Northern Ocean (where the message of Christ had not yet arrived), and promised them through some oracle to lead them to a land far better than their own (which he could easily do), a pleasant and vast place where no one had ever lived; he led them across the barren lands and islands (of which there are many in that sea) through the north into America, a journey no one would have taken had they not been convinced there was a route to a more desirable land. Just as when the world turned away from worshiping the true God, God called Abraham out of Chaldea into the land of Canaan to create a lineage to keep a light shining for His name: so when the Devil noticed the world turning away from him, he built the foundations of a new kingdom by sending this colony from the north into America, where they have since grown into an immense population. And where has the Devil ever ruled more entirely, and without challenge, since humanity first fell under his influence?

"And here it is to be noted, that the story of the Mexican kingdom (which was not founded above four hundred years before ours came thither) relates, out of their own memorials and traditions, that they came to that place from the north, whence their god, Vitziliputzli, led them, going in an ark before them: and, after divers years' travel and many stations (like enough after some generations), they came to the place which the sign he had given them at[i.398] their first setting-forth pointed out; where they were to finish their travels, build themselves a city, and their god a temple, which is the place where Mexico was built. Now, if the Devil were God's ape in this, why might he not be likewise in bringing the first colony of men into that world out of ours? namely, by oracle, as God did Abraham out of Chaldee, whereto I before resembled it.

"And it's important to note that the story of the Mexican kingdom (which was founded just over four hundred years before ours arrived there) tells, through their own records and traditions, that they came to that place from the north, led by their god, Vitziliputzli, who went ahead of them in an ark. After several years of traveling and many stops (likely after some generations), they arrived at the place indicated by the sign given to them at[i.398] when they first set out; where they were meant to settle, build a city, and construct a temple for their god, which is where Mexico was established. Now, if the Devil was trying to imitate God in this, why couldn't he have also done the same in leading the first colony of people into that world from ours? For example, through an oracle, as God did with Abraham from Chaldea, to which I previously compared it."

"But see the hand of Divine Providence. When the offspring of these runagates from the sound of Christ's gospel had now replenished that other world, and began to flourish in those two kingdoms of Peru and Mexico, Christ our Lord sends his mastives, the Spaniards, to hunt them out, and worry them; which they did in so hideous a manner, as the like thereunto scarce ever was done since the sons of Noah came out of the ark. What an affront to the Devil was this, where he had thought to have reigned securely, and been for ever concealed from the knowledge of the followers of Christ!

"But look at the hand of Divine Providence. When the descendants of these runaways from the sound of Christ's gospel had filled that other world and started to thrive in those two kingdoms of Peru and Mexico, Christ our Lord sent his hounds, the Spaniards, to seek them out and torment them; which they did in such a horrific way that nothing like it has happened since the sons of Noah came out of the ark. What an insult to the Devil this was, where he thought he would reign securely and be forever hidden from the knowledge of Christ's followers!"

"Yet the Devil perhaps is less grieved for the loss of his servants by the destroying of them, than he would be to lose them by the saving of them; by which latter way, I doubt the Spaniards have despoiled him but of a few. What, then, if Christ our Lord will give him his second affront with better Christians, which may be more grievous to him than the former? And, if Christ shall set him up a light in this manner to dazzle and torment the Devil at his own home, I hope they (viz., the Americans) shall not so far degenerate (not all of them) as to come into that army of Gog and Magog against the kingdom of Christ, but be translated thither before the Devil be loosed; if not, presently after his tying up."

"Yet the Devil might be less upset about losing his servants through destruction than he would be about losing them through salvation; in which case, I fear the Spaniards have only taken a few from him. What if Christ our Lord decides to give him a second blow with better Christians, which could be more painful for him than the first? And if Christ sets up a light in this way to dazzle and torment the Devil in his own territory, I hope they (that is, the Americans) won’t completely fall away (not all of them) and join that army of Gog and Magog against the kingdom of Christ, but instead be raised up there before the Devil is released; if not, then right after he is bound."

Dr. Twiss, in a reply to the above, dated April 6, 1635, thanks Mede for his letter, which he says he read "with recreation and delight;" and, particularly in reference to the "peopling of the New World," he affirms that there is "more in this letter of yours than formerly I have been acquainted with. Your conceit thereabouts, if I have any judgment, is grave and ponderous."

Dr. Twiss, in his response dated April 6, 1635, thanks Mede for his letter, stating he read it "with enjoyment and pleasure;" and specifically regarding the "peopling of the New World," he claims there is "more in your letter than I was aware of before. Your thoughts on this matter, if I judge correctly, are serious and substantial."

This correspondence, while it serves as a specimen of the style of Mede, is a remarkable instance of the power of a sagacious intellect to penetrate through the darkness of theoretical and fanciful errors, and behold the truth that lies behind and beyond. The whole superstructure of the Devil, his oracles, and his schemes of policy and dominion, covers, in this brief familiar epistle, what is, I suppose, the theory most accredited at this day of the origin and traduction of the aboriginal races of America, proceeding from the nearest portions of the ancient continent on the North, and advancing down over the vast spaces towards Central and South America. The letter also foreshadows the decisive conflict which is here to be waged between the elements of freedom and slavery, between social and political systems that will rescue and exalt humanity, and those which depress and degrade it. In the phraseology of that age, it was to be determined whether—the Old World, in the language of Twiss, "being almost at an end"—a "light" should be "set up" here to usher in the "kingdom of Christ,"[i.400] or America also be for ever given over to the "army of Gog and Magog."

This letter not only showcases Mede's style but also exemplifies the power of a keen intellect to see through the fog of theoretical and fanciful mistakes to uncover the truth that lies behind them. The entire structure of the Devil, his oracles, and his plans for power and control is woven into this brief, familiar letter, which reflects what is likely the most widely accepted theory today about the origins and migration of the indigenous peoples of America, coming from the nearest parts of the ancient continent in the North and spreading down across the vast lands to Central and South America. The letter also hints at the major conflict that is about to unfold between the forces of freedom and slavery, between social and political systems that will uplift humanity and those that will oppress and degrade it. In the language of that time, it was to be determined whether the Old World, as Twiss put it, "being almost at an end," would have a "light" "set up" here to lead in the "kingdom of Christ,"[i.400] or if America would be forever surrendered to the "army of Gog and Magog."

Our fathers were justified in feeling that this was the sense of their responsibility entertained by all learned men and true Christians in the Old World; and they were ready to meet and discharge it faithfully and manfully. They were told, and they believed, that it had fallen to their lot to be the champions of the cross of Christ against the power of the Devil. They felt, as I have said, that they were fighting him in his last stronghold, and they were determined to "tie him up" for ever.

Our fathers were right to believe that this was the sense of responsibility shared by all educated people and true Christians in the Old World; and they were prepared to face and fulfill it honestly and bravely. They were told, and they believed, that it was their destiny to be the defenders of Christ's cross against the forces of evil. They felt, as I mentioned, that they were battling him in his final stronghold, and they were determined to "defeat him" for good.

This is the true and just explanation of their general policy of administration, in other matters, as well as in the witchcraft prosecutions.

This is the accurate and fair explanation of their overall policy of administration, in various matters, including the witchcraft prosecutions.

The conclusion to which we are brought, by a review of the seventeenth century up to the period when the prosecutions took place here, is, that the witchcraft delusion pervaded the whole civilized world and every profession and department of society. It received the sanction of all the learned and distinguished English judges who flourished within the century, from Sir Edward Coke to Sir Matthew Hale. It was countenanced by the greatest philosophers and physicians, and was embraced by men of the highest genius and accomplishments, even by Lord Bacon himself. It was established by the convocation of bishops, and preached by the clergy. Dr. Henry More, of Christ's College, Cambridge, in addition to his admirable poetical and philosophical works, wrote volumes to defend it. It[i.401] was considered as worthy of the study of the most cultivated and liberal minds to discover and distinguish "a true witch by proper trials and symptoms." The excellent Dr. Calamy has already been mentioned in this connection; and Richard Baxter wrote his work entitled "The Certainty of the World of Spirits," for the special purpose of confirming and diffusing the belief. He kept up a correspondence with Cotton Mather, and with his father, Increase Mather, through the medium of which he stimulated and encouraged them in their proceedings against supposed witches in Boston and elsewhere. The divines of that day seem to have persuaded themselves into the belief that the doctrines of demonology were essential to the gospel, and that the rejection of them was equivalent to infidelity. A writer in one of our modern journals, in speaking of the prosecutions for witchcraft, happily and justly observes, "It was truly hazardous to oppose those judicial murders. If any one ventured to do so, the Catholics burned him as a heretic, and the Protestants had a vehement longing to hang him for an atheist." The writings of Dr. More, of Baxter, Glanvil, Perkins, and others, had been circulating for a long time in New England before the trials began at Salem. It was such a review of the history of opinion as we have now made, which led Dr. Bentley to declare that "the agency of invisible beings, if not a part of every religion, is not contrary to any one. It may be found in all ages, and in the most remote countries. It is then no just subject for our admiration, that a[i.402] belief so alarming to our fears, so natural to our prejudices, and so easily abused by superstition, should obtain among our fathers, when it had not been rejected in the ages of philosophy, letters, and even revelation."

The conclusion we reach from reviewing the seventeenth century leading up to the prosecutions here is that the witchcraft delusion spread throughout the entire civilized world and across every profession and sector of society. It had the backing of all the learned and notable English judges of the century, from Sir Edward Coke to Sir Matthew Hale. It was supported by the greatest philosophers and physicians, and was accepted by highly talented individuals, including Lord Bacon himself. It was established by a gathering of bishops and preached by the clergy. Dr. Henry More from Christ's College, Cambridge, wrote extensively to defend it, in addition to his impressive poetic and philosophical works. It was viewed as worthy of study by the most educated and open-minded individuals to identify "a true witch through appropriate trials and symptoms." The distinguished Dr. Calamy has already been mentioned in this context; Richard Baxter wrote his piece titled "The Certainty of the World of Spirits" specifically to reinforce and spread the belief. He kept in touch with Cotton Mather and his father, Increase Mather, encouraging them in their actions against suspected witches in Boston and elsewhere. The religious leaders of that time seemed to have convinced themselves that the doctrines of demonology were crucial to the gospel, and that rejecting them equated to infidelity. A writer in one of our modern journals insightfully comments on the prosecutions for witchcraft, saying, "It was truly risky to oppose those judicial murders. Anyone who dared to do so was burned by Catholics as a heretic, and Protestants were eager to hang them for being an atheist." The works of Dr. More, Baxter, Glanvil, Perkins, and others had been circulating in New England for a considerable time before the Salem trials started. It was such a review of historical opinions that led Dr. Bentley to state that "the agency of invisible beings, if not part of every religion, is not contrary to any one. It can be found in all ages and in the most distant lands. It is no wonder, then, that a belief so frightening to our fears, so natural to our biases, and so easily exploited by superstition, was accepted by our ancestors when it hadn't been dismissed in the ages of philosophy, literature, and even revelation."

The works on demonology, the legal proceedings in prosecutions, and the phraseology of the people, gave more or less definite form to certain prominent points which may be summarily noticed. Several terms and expressions were employed to characterize persons supposed to be conversant with supernatural and magic art; such as diviner, enchanter, charmer, conjurer, necromancer, fortune-teller, soothsayer, augur, and sorcerer. These words are sometimes used as more or less synonymous, although, strictly speaking, they have meanings quite distinct. But none of them convey the idea attached to the name of witch. It was sometimes especially used to signify a female, while wizard was exclusively applied to a male. The distinction was not, however, often attempted to be made; the former title being prevailingly applied to either sex. A witch was regarded as a person who had made an actual, deliberate, formal compact with Satan, by which it was agreed that she should become his faithful subject, and do all in her power to aid him in his rebellion against God and his warfare against the gospel and church of Christ; and, in consideration of such allegiance and service, Satan, on his part, agreed to exercise his supernatural powers in her favor, and communicate to her those powers, in a greater or less[i.403] degree, as she proved herself an efficient and devoted supporter of his cause. Thus, a witch was considered as a person who had transferred allegiance and worship from God to the Devil.

The studies on demonology, the legal actions taken in prosecutions, and the language used by the people outlined some key points that are worth mentioning. Various terms and expressions were used to describe individuals thought to be involved with supernatural and magic practices, like diviner, enchanter, charmer, conjurer, necromancer, fortune-teller, soothsayer, augur, and sorcerer. These words are often used interchangeably, but they actually have distinct meanings. However, none of them captures the notion of a witch. The term was sometimes specifically used for females, while wizard was used solely for males. Nonetheless, this distinction wasn't often made; the term witch was commonly applied to anyone, regardless of gender. A witch was seen as someone who had made a real, intentional, formal pact with Satan, agreeing to become his loyal follower and to do everything possible to assist him in his rebellion against God and his fight against the gospel and the church of Christ. In return for this loyalty and service, Satan promised to use his supernatural powers to benefit her and grant her those powers to varying degrees, depending on how effectively she supported his cause. Thus, a witch was viewed as someone who had shifted her allegiance and worship from God to the Devil.

The existence of this compact was supposed to confer great additional power on the Devil, as well as on his new subject; for the doctrine seems to have prevailed, that, for him to act with effect upon men, the intervention, instrumentality, and co-operation of human beings was necessary; and almost unlimited potency was ascribed to the combined exertions of Satan and those persons in league with him. A witch was believed to have the power, through her compact with the Devil, of afflicting, distressing, and rending whomsoever she would. She could cause them to pine away, throw them into the most frightful convulsions, choke, bruise, pierce, and craze them, subjecting them to every description of pain, disease, and torture, and even to death itself. She was believed to possess the faculty of being present, in her shape or apparition, at a different place, at any distance whatever, from that which her actual body occupied. Indeed, an indefinite amount of supernatural ability, and a boundless freedom and variety of methods for its exercise, were supposed to result from the diabolical compact. Those upon whom she thus exercised her malignant and mysterious energies were said to be bewitched.

The existence of this compact was thought to give a lot more power to the Devil, as well as to his new follower; since the belief was that, for him to effectively influence people, he needed the involvement, tools, and cooperation of humans. Almost unlimited power was attributed to the combined efforts of Satan and those who were allied with him. A witch was believed to have the ability, through her agreement with the Devil, to inflict harm, distress, and torment on anyone she chose. She could make them waste away, throw them into terrifying convulsions, choke, bruise, stab, and drive them crazy, subjecting them to all kinds of pain, illness, torture, and even death. It was believed she could appear, in her form or as a ghost, anywhere far away from where her actual body was. In fact, a virtually infinite amount of supernatural power and limitless methods for wielding it were thought to come from this devilish pact. Those who were affected by her harmful and mysterious powers were said to be bewitched.

Beside these infernal powers, the alliance with Satan was believed to confer knowledge such as no other mortal possessed. The witch could perform the same[i.404] wonders, in giving information of the things that belong to the invisible world, which is alleged in our day, by spirit-rappers, to be received through mediums. She could read inmost thoughts, suggest ideas to the minds of the absent, throw temptations in the path of those whom she desired to delude and destroy, bring up the spirits of the departed, and hear from them the secrets of their lives and of their deaths, and their experiences in the scenes of being on which they entered at their departure from this.

Beside these hellish powers, the alliance with Satan was thought to grant knowledge that no other mortal had. The witch could perform the same[i.404] wonders, providing information about things in the invisible world, similar to what is claimed today by spirit-rappers, which is said to be received through mediums. She could read people's deepest thoughts, suggest ideas to the minds of those who were absent, throw temptations in the way of those she wanted to deceive and ruin, summon the spirits of the deceased, and learn from them the secrets of their lives, deaths, and their experiences in the realm they entered after leaving this world.

When we consider that these opinions were not merely prevalent among the common people, but sanctioned by learning and philosophy, science and jurisprudence; that they possessed an authority, which but few ventured to question and had been firmly established by the convictions of centuries,—none can be surprised at the alarm it created, when the belief became current, that there were those in the community, and even in the churches, who had actually entered into this dark confederacy against God and heaven, religion and virtue; and that individuals were beginning to suffer from their diabolical power. It cannot be considered strange, that men looked with more than common horror upon persons against whom what was regarded as overwhelming evidence was borne of having engaged in this conspiracy with all that was evil, and this treason against all that was good.

When we think about how these views weren’t just widespread among regular people but were also backed by education, philosophy, science, and law; that they held a kind of authority that only a few dared to challenge and had been cemented by the beliefs of centuries—it's no surprise that it caused alarm when it became widely believed that there were people in the community, even within the churches, who had truly joined this dark alliance against God and heaven, religion and virtue; and that some individuals were starting to suffer because of their sinister influence. It’s understandable that people felt more than just usual horror towards those for whom what was seen as compelling evidence suggested they were part of this conspiracy with everything evil, and this betrayal of all that was good.

Elaborate works, scientific, philosophical, and judicial in their pretensions and reputation,—to some of which reference has been made,—defined and par[i.405]ticularized the various forms of evidence by which the crime of confederacy with Satan could be proved.

Elaborate works, scientific, philosophical, and judicial in their claims and reputation—to some of which reference has been made—defined and specified the various forms of evidence that could be used to prove the crime of confederacy with Satan.

It was believed that the Devil affixed his mark to the bodies of those in alliance with him, and that the point where this mark was made became callous and dead. The law provided, specifically, the means of detecting and identifying this sign. It required that the prisoner should be subjected to the scrutiny of a jury of the same sex, who would make a minute inspection of the body, shaving the head and handling every part. They would pierce it with pins; and if, as might have been expected, particularly in aged persons, any spot could be found insensible to the torture, or any excrescence, induration, or fixed discoloration, it was looked upon as visible evidence and demonstration of guilt. A physician or "chirurgeon" was required to be present at these examinations. In conducting them, there was liability to great roughness and unfeeling recklessness of treatment; and the whole procedure was barbarous and shocking to every just and delicate sensibility. There is reason to believe, that, in the trials here, there was more considerateness, humanity, and regard to a sense of decent propriety, than in similar proceedings in other countries, so far as this branch of the investigation is regarded.

People believed that the Devil marked the bodies of those who were in league with him, and the spot where the mark appeared became calloused and lifeless. The law outlined specific ways to detect and identify this mark. It required that the accused be examined by a jury of the same gender, who would thoroughly inspect the body, shaving the head and examining every part. They would poke it with pins; and if, particularly in older individuals, any area was found to be numb to the pain or showed any unusual growths, hardening, or fixed discoloration, it was seen as clear evidence of guilt. A doctor or surgeon had to be present during these examinations. The process was prone to great insensitivity and reckless treatment; and the whole procedure was barbaric and shocking to any sense of fairness and decency. There is reason to believe that, during the trials here, there was more compassion, humanity, and respect for proper conduct than in similar processes in other countries, at least regarding this aspect of the investigation.

Another accredited field of evidence, recognized in the books and in legal proceedings, was as follows: It was believed, that, when witches found it inconvenient from any cause to execute their infernal designs upon[i.406] those whom they wished to afflict by going to them in their natural human persons, they transformed themselves into the likeness of some animal,—a dog, hog, cat, rat, mouse, or toad; birds—particularly yellow birds—were often imagined to perform this service, as representing witches or the Devil. They also had imps under their control. These imps were generally supposed to bear the resemblance of some small insect,—such as a fly or a spider. The latter animal was prevailingly considered as most likely to act in this character. The accused person was closely watched, in order that the spider imp might be seen when it approached to obtain its nourishment, as it was thought to do, from the witchmark on the body of the culprit. Within the cells of a prison, spiders were, of course, often seen. Whenever one made its appearance, the guard attacked it with all the zeal and vehemence with which it was natural and proper to assault an agent of the Wicked One. If the spider was killed in the encounter, it was considered as an innocent animal, and all suspicion was removed from its character as the diabolical confederate of the prisoner; but if it escaped into a crack or crevice of the apartment, as spiders often do when assailed, all doubt of its guilty connection with the person accused of witchcraft was removed: it was set down as, beyond question or cavil, her veritable imp; and the evidence of her confederacy with Satan was thenceforward regarded as complete. The books of law and other learned writings, as well as the practice of courts in the old[i.407] countries, recognized this doctrine of transformation into the shapes of animals, and the employment of imps. Where judicial tribunals countenanced the popular credulity in maintaining these ideas, there was no security for innocence, and no escape from wrong. No matter how clear and certain the evidence adduced, that an accused individual, at the time alleged, was absent from the specified place; no matter how far distant, whether twenty or a thousand miles, it availed him nothing; for it was charged that he was present, and acted through his agent or imp. This notion was further enlarged by the establishment of the additional doctrine, that a witch could be present, and act with demoniac power upon her victims, anywhere, at all times, and at any distance, without the instrumental agency of any other animal or being, in her spirit, spectre, or apparition. When the person on trial was accused of having tortured or strangled or pinched or bruised another, it did not break the force of the accusation to bring hundreds of witnesses to prove that he was, at the very time, in another remote place or country; for it was alleged that he was present in the spectral shape in which Satan enabled his spirit to be and to act any and every where at once. It was impossible to disprove the charge, and the last defence of innocence was swept away.

Another accepted type of evidence, acknowledged in books and legal proceedings, was as follows: It was believed that when witches found it difficult for any reason to carry out their evil plans on[i.406] the people they wanted to harm by approaching them in their actual human forms, they would transform themselves into the shape of some animal—a dog, pig, cat, rat, mouse, or toad; birds—especially yellow birds—were often thought to perform this role, acting as representations of witches or the Devil. They also had imps under their control. These imps were generally thought to resemble small insects, like flies or spiders. The latter was often seen as the most likely to serve in this capacity. The accused person was closely watched to see if the spider imp might be observed approaching to feed, as it was believed to do, from the witchmark on the body of the accused. In prison cells, spiders were often seen. Whenever one appeared, the guard would attack it with all the eagerness and intensity appropriate to confronting an agent of evil. If the spider was killed during the attack, it was seen as an innocent creature, and all suspicion of it being a diabolical accomplice of the prisoner was cleared; but if it escaped into a crack or crevice, as spiders often do when threatened, all doubt of its guilty association with the accused was eliminated: it was considered, without question or argument, her true imp; and the evidence of her alliance with Satan was thereafter regarded as complete. The law books and other scholarly writings, as well as court practices in the old[i.407] countries, acknowledged this idea of transformation into animal shapes and the use of imps. Where courts supported the popular belief in these ideas, there was no security for innocence, and no escape from injustice. No matter how clear and certain the evidence presented that an accused person was, at the alleged time, far away from the claimed location—whether twenty or a thousand miles—it made no difference; the accusation would state that he was present and acted through his agent or imp. This idea was further expanded by the additional belief that a witch could be present and use demonic power over her victims anywhere, at any time, and at any distance, without needing any other animal or being, in her spirit, ghost, or apparition. When the person on trial was accused of having tortured, strangled, pinched, or bruised another, it didn’t matter if hundreds of witnesses proved he was in another distant place or country at that exact time; it was claimed that he was present in a spectral form that allowed his spirit to be and act everywhere at once. It was impossible to disprove the charge, and the last defense of innocence was wiped away.

If any thing strange or remarkable could be discovered in the persons, histories, or deportment of accused persons, the usage of the tribunals, and the books of authority on the subject, allowed it to be brought in[i.408] evidence against them. If any thing they had forewarned, or even conjectured, happened to come to pass, any careless speech had been verified by events, any extraordinary knowledge had been manifested, or any marvellous feats of strength or agility been displayed, they were brought up with decisive and fatal effect.

If anything unusual or noteworthy was found in the backgrounds, stories, or behavior of accused individuals, the procedures of the courts and the authoritative texts on the matter permitted it to be introduced[i.408] as evidence against them. If anything they had anticipated, or even guessed, turned out to be true, if any careless remark proved to be accurate through events, if any exceptional knowledge was shown, or if any remarkable displays of strength or agility occurred, they were presented with significant and devastating impact.

A witch was believed to have the power of operating upon her victims, at any distance, by the instrumentality of puppets. She would procure or make an object like a doll, or a figure of some animal,—any little bunch of cloth or bundle of rags would answer the purpose. She would will the puppet to represent the person whom she proposed to torment or afflict; and then whatever she did to the puppet would be suffered by the party it represented at any distance, however remote. A pin stuck into the puppet would pierce the flesh of the person whom she wished to afflict, and produce the appropriate sensations of pain. So would a pinch, or a blow, or any kind of violence. When any one was arrested on the charge of witchcraft, a search was immediately made for puppets from garret to cellar; and if any thing could be found that might possibly be imagined to possess that character,—any remnant of flannel or linen wrapped up, the foot of an old stocking, or a cushion of any kind, particularly if there were any pins in it,—it was considered as weighty and quite decisive evidence against the accused party.

A witch was thought to have the ability to harm her victims from a distance using puppets. She would get or create an object, like a doll or a figure of an animal—anything like a small piece of cloth or a bundle of rags would work. She would intend for the puppet to represent the person she wanted to torment or hurt; then whatever she did to the puppet would be felt by the person it represented, no matter how far away they were. A pin stuck into the puppet would stab the flesh of the person she aimed to afflict and cause them pain. The same went for pinching, hitting, or any other kind of violence. When someone was arrested for witchcraft, a search was quickly conducted for puppets, from the attic to the basement; if anything could be found that might look like it, such as a piece of flannel or linen wrapped up, the foot of an old stocking, or any cushion—especially if it had pins in it—it was considered strong and conclusive evidence against the accused.

A writer, in a recent number of the "North-Ameri[i.409]can Review," on the superstitions of the American Indians, makes the following statement:—

A writer, in a recent issue of the "North-American Review," about the superstitions of the American Indians, makes the following statement:—

"The sorcerer, by charms, magic songs, magic feats, and the beating of his drum, had power over the spirits, and those occult influences inherent in animals and inanimate things. He could call to him the souls of his enemies. They appeared before him in the form of stones. He chopped and bruised them with his hatchet; blood and flesh issued forth; and the intended victim, however distant, languished and died. Like the sorcerer of the middle ages, he made images of those he wished to destroy, and, muttering incantations, punctured them with an awl; whereupon the persons represented sickened and pined away."

The sorcerer, through spells, magical songs, tricks, and the beating of his drum, had control over spirits and the hidden powers found in animals and inanimate objects. He could summon the souls of his enemies, which appeared to him as stones. He chopped and battered them with his hatchet; blood and flesh flowed out, and the intended victim, no matter how far away, suffered and died. Like medieval sorcerers, he made dolls of those he wanted to harm, and while muttering incantations, he stabbed them with a sharp tool, causing those represented to fall ill and waste away.

It was a received opinion, accredited and acted upon in courts, that a person in confederacy with the Evil One could not weep. Those accused of this crime, both in Europe and America, were, in many instances, of an age and condition which rendered it impossible for them, however innocent, to escape the effect of this test. A decrepit, emaciated person, shrivelled and desiccated by age, was placed at the bar: and if she could not weep on the spot; if, in consequence of her withered frame, her amazement and indignation at the false and malignant charges by which she was circumvented, her exhausted sensibility, her sullen despair, the hopeless horror of her situation, or, from what often was found to be the effect of the treatment such persons received, a high-toned consciousness of innocence, and a brave defiance and stern condemnation of her maligners and persecutors; if, from any cause,[i.410] the fountain of tears was closed or dried up,—their failure to come forth at the bidding of her defamers was regarded as a sure and irrefragable proof of her guilt.

It was a widely held belief, recognized and enforced in courts, that someone in league with the Devil couldn't shed tears. Those accused of this crime, both in Europe and America, often found themselves at an age and in a situation that made it impossible for them, no matter how innocent, to pass this test. A frail, gaunt person, aged and withered, was brought before the court: and if she couldn't cry right then; if, due to her shriveled body, her shock and anger at the false and malicious accusations against her, her drained emotions, her deep despair, the utter hopelessness of her situation, or, often, due to the impact of the treatment such individuals received, a strong sense of innocence and a fierce defiance alongside a stern condemnation of her accusers; if, for any reason,[i.410] the ability to cry was absent or gone,—her failure to produce tears at the command of her accusers was seen as undeniable proof of her guilt.

King James explains the circumstance, that witches could not weep, in rather a curious manner:—

King James explains the situation, that witches couldn’t cry, in a pretty interesting way:—

"For as, in a secret murther, if the dead carkasse bee at any time thereafter handled by the murtherer it will gush out of bloud, as if the bloud were crying to the heaven for revenge of the murtherer, God having appointed that secret supernaturall signe for triall of that secret unnaturall crime; so it appeares that God hath appointed (for a supernaturall signe of the monstrous impietie of witches), that the water shall refuse to receive them in her bosome that have shaken off them the sacred water of baptisme, and wilfully refused the benefite thereof: no, not so much as their eyes are able to shed teares (threaten and torture them as ye please), while first they repent (God not permitting them to dissemble their obstinacie in so horrible a crime), albeit the woman kind especially be able otherwise to shed teares at every light occasion when they will,—yea, although it were dissemblingly like the crocodiles."

"For just like in a secret murder, if the body is ever touched by the murderer afterward, it will bleed as if the blood is crying out to heaven for revenge against the murderer, God having established that supernatural sign to test the unnatural crime; it seems that God has also set up a supernatural sign of the monstrous impiety of witches, which is that water will refuse to accept those who have rejected the sacred water of baptism and willingly turned away from its benefits: not even will their eyes be able to shed tears (no matter how much you threaten or torture them), until they first repent (God not allowing them to fake their stubbornness in such a horrible crime), even though women, in general, are otherwise able to cry at the slightest provocation when they choose to—indeed, even if it’s as feigned as a crocodile’s tears."

Reginald Scott, in introducing a Romish form of adjuration, makes the following excellent remarks on the trial by tears:—

Reginald Scott, in introducing a Catholic form of summons, makes the following insightful comments on the trial by tears:—

"But alas that teares should be thought sufficient to excuse or condemn in so great a cause, and so weightie a triall! I am sure that the worst sort of the children of Israel wept bitterlie; yea, if there were any witches at all in Israel, they wept. For it is written, that all the children[i.411] of Israel wept. Finallie, if there be any witches in hell, I am sure they weepe; for there is weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. But God knoweth many an honest matron cannot sometimes in the heaviness of her heart shed teares; the which oftentimes are more readie and common with crafty queans and strumpets than with sober women. For we read of two kinds of teares in a woman's eie; the one of true greefe, and the other of deceipt. And it is written, that 'Dediscere flere foeminam est mendacium;' which argueth that they lie, which saie that wicked women cannot weepe. But let these tormentors take heed, that the teares in this case which runne down the widowe's cheeks, with their crie, spoken of by Jesus Sirach, be not heard above. But, lo, what learned, godlie and lawful meanes these Popish Inquisitors have invented for the triall of true or false teares:—

"But it's unfortunate that tears should be seen as enough to excuse or condemn in such a serious matter and heavy trial! I’m certain that the worst of the children of Israel cried bitterly; in fact, if there were any witches in Israel, they cried too. It is written that all the children[i.411] of Israel wept. Finally, if there are any witches in hell, I’m sure they weep; for there is weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. But God knows that many honest women cannot sometimes shed tears in their sorrow; which are often more readily and commonly found in crafty women and prostitutes than in sober women. We read of two types of tears in a woman’s eye: one of true grief, and the other of deceit. And it is written that 'To learn to weep is to lie, woman;' which suggests that those who say wicked women can’t weep are deceivers. But let these tormentors be cautious, for the tears that run down the widow’s cheeks, along with her cry, mentioned by Jesus Sirach, might not go unheard. But look at the learned, godly, and lawful methods these Popish Inquisitors have devised to test true or false tears:—

'I conjure thee, by the amorous tears which Jesus Christ, our Saviour, shed upon the crosse for the salvation of the world; and by the most earnest and burning teares of his mother, the most glorious Virgine Marie, sprinkled upon his wounds late in the evening; and by all the teares which everie saint and elect vessell of God hath poured out heere in the world, and from whose eies he hath wiped awaie all teares,—that, if thou be without fault, thou maist poure downe teares aboundantlie; and, if thou be guiltie, that thou weep in no wise. In the name of the Father, of the Sonne, and of the Holie Ghost. Amen.'

'I call upon you, by the loving tears that Jesus Christ, our Savior, shed on the cross for the salvation of the world; and by the heartfelt and burning tears of His mother, the glorious Virgin Mary, who sprinkled them upon His wounds late in the evening; and by all the tears that every saint and chosen vessel of God has shed here in the world, from whose eyes He has wiped away all tears— that, if you are without fault, you may pour down tears abundantly; and if you are guilty, that you may not weep at all. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.'

"The more you conjure, the lesse she weepeth."

"The more you create, the less she cries."

A distinction was made between black and white witches. The former were those who had leagued with Satan for the purpose of doing injury to others,[i.412] while the latter class was composed of such persons as had resorted to the arts and charms of divination and sorcery in order to protect themselves and others from diabolical influence. They were both considered as highly, if not equally, criminal. Fuller, in his "Profane State," thus speaks of them: "Better is it to lap one's pottage like a dog, than to eat it mannerly, with a spoon of the Devil's giving. Black witches hurt and do mischief; but, in deeds of darkness, there is no difference of colors. The white and the black are both guilty alike in compounding with the Devil." White witches pretended to extract their power from the mysterious virtues of certain plants. The following form of charmed words was used in plucking them:—

A distinction was made between black and white witches. The former were those who had allied with Satan to harm others,[i.412] while the latter class was made up of people who used divination and sorcery to protect themselves and others from evil influences. Both were seen as highly, if not equally, criminal. Fuller, in his "Profane State," describes them this way: "It's better to eat your food like a dog than to do so politely with a spoon given by the Devil. Black witches cause harm and do mischief; but in acts of darkness, there’s no difference in colors. Both white and black witches are equally guilty for colluding with the Devil." White witches claimed to draw their power from the mysterious qualities of certain plants. The following form of enchanted words was used when picking them:—

"Cheers to you, sacred herb,
Growing in the soil; On Calvary, First you were found; You are good for many sorrows,
And heal many wounds:
In the name of sweet Jesus,
"I lift you off the ground."

Then there was the evidence of ocular fascination. The accused and the accusers were brought into the presence of the examining magistrate, and the supposed witch was ordered to look upon the afflicted persons; instantly upon coming within the glance of her eye, they would scream out, and fall down as in a fit. It was thought that an invisible and impalpable fluid darted from the eye of the witch, and penetrated the brain of the bewitched. By bringing the witch so[i.413] near that she could touch the afflicted persons with her hand, the malignant fluid was attracted back into her hand, and the sufferers recovered their senses. It is singular to notice the curious resemblance between this opinion—the joint product of superstition and imposture—and the results to which modern science has led us in the discoveries of galvanism and animal electricity. The doctrine of fascination maintained its hold upon the public credulity for a long time, and gave occasion to the phrase, still in familiar use among us, of "looking upon a person with an evil eye." Its advocates claimed, in its defence, the authority of the Cartesian philosophy; but it cannot be considered, in an age of science and reason, as having any better support than the rural superstition of Virgil's simple shepherd, who thus complains of the condition of his emaciated flock:—

Then there was the evidence of visual fascination. The accused and the accusers were brought before the examining magistrate, and the supposed witch was instructed to look at the afflicted individuals; as soon as she met their gaze, they would scream and collapse as if having a seizure. It was believed that an invisible and intangible force shot from the witch's eye, penetrating the minds of those bewitched. By bringing the witch so[i.413] close that she could touch the afflicted individuals, the harmful force would be pulled back into her hand, and the victims would regain their senses. It's interesting to notice the strange similarity between this belief—the combined result of superstition and deceit—and the findings that modern science has uncovered through the study of galvanism and animal electricity. The idea of fascination held onto public belief for a long time and gave rise to the phrase, still commonly used, "looking at someone with an evil eye." Its supporters claimed it was backed by Cartesian philosophy, but in an age of science and reason, it can’t be seen as having any stronger foundation than the rural superstition of Virgil's simple shepherd, who complains about the state of his thin flock:—

"They look so skinny,
Their bones are barely covered by their skin.
What magic has enchanted the fluffy sheep? "And what cruel eyes saw the gentle lambs?"

Witchcraft, in all ages and countries, was recognized as a reality, just as much as any of the facts of nature, or incidents to which mankind is liable. By the laws of all nations, Catholic and Protestant alike, in the old country and in the new, it was treated as a capital offence, and classed with murder and other highest crimes, although regarded as of a deeper dye and blacker character than them all. Indictments and trials of persons accused of it were not, therefore,[i.414] considered as of any special interest, or as differing in any essential particulars from proceedings against any other description of offenders. There had been many such proceedings in the American colonies,—more, perhaps, than have come to our knowledge,—previous to 1692. They were not looked upon as sufficiently extraordinary to be transferred, from the oblivion sweeping like a perpetual deluge over the vast multitude of human experiences, to the ark of history, which rescues only a select few. The following are the principal facts of this class of which we have information:—

Witchcraft has been seen as a reality throughout history and across different countries, just like any natural fact or human incident. In every nation, both Catholic and Protestant, whether in the old world or the new, it was considered a serious crime, on par with murder and other major offenses, but viewed as even more sinister. Therefore, indictments and trials for those accused of witchcraft were not seen as particularly noteworthy or different from the proceedings against any other type of criminal. There had been many such cases in the American colonies—possibly more than we know—before 1692. They weren’t viewed as remarkable enough to be pulled from the endless flow of human experiences into the historical record, which saves only a chosen few. Here are the main facts of this category that we have:—

William Penn presided, in his judicial character, at the trial of two Swedish women for witchcraft; the grand jury, acting under instructions from him, having found bills against them. They were saved, not in consequence of any peculiar reluctance to proceed against them arising out of the nature of the alleged crime, but only from some technical defect in the indictment. If it had not been for this accidental circumstance, as the annalist of Philadelphia suggests, scenes similar to those subsequently occurring in Salem Village might have darkened the history of the Quakers, Swedes, Germans, and Dutch, who dwelt in the City of Brotherly Love and the adjacent colonies. There had been trials and executions for witchcraft in other parts of New England, and excitements had obtained more or less currency in reference to the assaults of the powers of darkness upon human affairs. These incidents prepared the way for the delusion in Salem, and[i.415] provided elements to form its character. They must not, therefore, be wholly overlooked. But the memorials for their elucidation are very defective. Hutchinson's "History of Massachusetts" is, perhaps, the most valuable authority on the subject. He enjoyed an advantage over any other writer, before, since, or hereafter, so far as relates to the witchcraft proceedings in 1692; for he had access to all the records and documents connected with it, a great part of which have subsequently been lost or destroyed. His treatment of that particular topic is more satisfactory than can elsewhere be found. But of incidents of the sort that preceded it, his information appears to have been very slight and unreliable. It is a singular fact, that we know more of the history of the first century of New England than was known by the most enlightened persons of the intermediate century. There was no regular organized newspaper press, the commemorative age had not begun, and none seem to have been fully aware of the importance of putting events on record. The publication, but a few years since, of the colonial journals of the first half-century of Massachusetts; researches by innumerable hands among papers on file in public offices; the printing of town-histories, and the collections made by historical and genealogical societies,—have rescued from oblivion, and redeemed from error, many points of the greatest interest and importance.

William Penn oversaw, in his judicial role, the trial of two Swedish women accused of witchcraft; the grand jury, acting under his instructions, had indicted them. They were spared, not because of any hesitation to prosecute them given the nature of the charges, but due to some technical flaw in the indictment. If it hadn't been for this random circumstance, as the historian of Philadelphia suggests, situations similar to those that later occurred in Salem Village might have stained the history of the Quakers, Swedes, Germans, and Dutch living in the City of Brotherly Love and the nearby colonies. There had been trials and executions for witchcraft in other parts of New England, and panic had spread to varying degrees regarding the attacks of dark forces on human affairs. These events paved the way for the delusion in Salem and[i.415] provided elements to shape its nature. They should not, therefore, be completely overlooked. However, the records for clarifying them are very limited. Hutchinson's "History of Massachusetts" is probably the most valuable source on the topic. He had an advantage over any other author, both before and after, concerning the witchcraft cases of 1692; for he had access to all the records and documents related to it, much of which has since been lost or destroyed. His discussion of that specific topic is more comprehensive than can be found elsewhere. However, regarding incidents of the type that preceded it, his information seems to have been minimal and unreliable. It is a striking fact that we know more about the history of the first century of New England than those in the subsequent century did. There was no established organized newspaper press, the commemorative period had not yet begun, and nobody seemed fully aware of the importance of recording events. The publication, just a few years ago, of the colonial journals from the first half-century of Massachusetts; countless investigations by various people into documents in public offices; the printing of town histories, and the collections made by historical and genealogical societies have rescued many significant and important points from obscurity and corrected errors.

Winthrop, in his "Journal," gives an account of the execution of Margaret Jones, of Charlestown, who had been tried and condemned by the Court of Assistants.[i.416] The charges against her were, that she had a malignant touch, so that many persons,—"men, women, and children,"—on coming in contact with her, were "taken with deafness, vomiting, or other violent pains or sickness;" that she practised physic, and her medicines, "being such things as (by her own confession) were harmless, as aniseed, liquors, &c., yet had extraordinary violent effects;" and that they found on her body, "upon a forced search," the witchmarks, particularly "a teat, as fresh if it had been newly sucked." Other ridiculous allegations were made against her. As for the effects of the touch, it is obvious that they could be easily simulated by evil-disposed persons. The whole substance of her offence seems to have been, that she was very successful in the use of simple prescriptions for the cure of diseases. Her practice was charged as "against the ordinary course, and beyond the apprehension of all physicians and surgeons." A bitter animosity was, accordingly, raised against her. She treated her accusers and defamers with indignant resentment. "Her behavior at her trial," says Winthrop, "was very intemperate, lying notoriously, and railing upon the jury and witnesses, &c.; and, in the like distemper, she died." We shall find that the bold assertion of innocence, and indignant denunciations of the persecutors and defamers who had destroyed their reputations and pursued them to the death, by persons tried and executed for witchcraft, in 1692, were regarded by some, as they were by Winthrop, as proofs of ill-temper and falsehood. The Governor closes his statement[i.417] about Margaret Jones, by relating what he regarded as a demonstration of her guilt: "The same day and hour she was executed, there was a very great tempest at Connecticut, which blew down many trees, &c." The records of the General Court contain no express notice of this case. Perhaps it is referred to in the following paragraph, under date of May 13, 1648:—

Winthrop, in his "Journal," recounts the execution of Margaret Jones from Charlestown, who was tried and sentenced by the Court of Assistants.[i.416] The accusations against her included having a harmful touch, causing many people—"men, women, and children"—who came into contact with her to experience "deafness, vomiting, or other severe pains and illnesses;" that she practiced medicine, and her remedies, "though they were harmless things (by her own admission), like aniseed, liquors, etc., still had extraordinarily violent effects;" and that they found "witch marks" on her body during a forced search, particularly "a teat, as fresh as if it had been recently sucked." Other absurd claims were made against her. Regarding the effects of her touch, it's clear they could be easily faked by malicious individuals. The crux of her offense seemed to be her success in using simple remedies to treat diseases. Her practice was criticized as "against the usual methods, and beyond the understanding of all physicians and surgeons." This led to a strong animosity towards her. She responded to her accusers and slanderers with angry defiance. "Her behavior at her trial," says Winthrop, "was very reckless, notoriously lying, and insulting the jury and witnesses, etc.; and in the same agitated state, she died." We will see that the strong declaration of innocence and angry accusations against the tormentors and slanderers who ruined their reputations and pursued them to death, by those tried and executed for witchcraft in 1692, were seen by some, as they were by Winthrop, as evidence of a bad temper and deceit. The Governor concludes his account[i.417] of Margaret Jones by sharing what he viewed as proof of her guilt: "On the same day and hour she was executed, there was a severe storm in Connecticut that knocked down many trees, etc." The records of the General Court do not explicitly mention this case. Perhaps it is referenced in the following paragraph, dated May 13, 1648:—

"This Court, being desirous that the same course which hath been taken in England for the discovery of witches, by watching, may also be taken here, with the witch now in question, and therefore do order that a strict watch be set about her every night, and that her husband be confined to a private room, and watched also."

"This Court, wanting to follow the same approach that has been used in England for uncovering witches, through surveillance, orders that a close watch be kept on the witch in question every night, and that her husband be kept in a private room and monitored as well."

Margaret Jones was executed in Boston on the 15th of June. Hutchinson refers to the statement made by Johnson, in the "Wonder-working Providence," that "more than one or two in Springfield, in 1645, were suspected of witchcraft; that much diligence was used, both for the finding them and for the Lord's assisting them against their witchery; yet have they, as is supposed, bewitched not a few persons, among whom two of the reverend elder's children." Johnson's loose and immethodical narrative covers the period from 1645 till toward the end of 1651; and Hutchinson was probably misled in supposing that the Springfield cases occurred as early as 1645. The Massachusetts colonial records, under the date of May 8, 1651, have this entry:[i.418]

Margaret Jones was executed in Boston on June 15th. Hutchinson mentions a statement made by Johnson in "Wonder-working Providence," that "more than one or two in Springfield, in 1645, were suspected of witchcraft; that much effort was made to identify them and for the Lord to help them against their witchcraft; yet they have, it is believed, bewitched quite a few people, including two of the elder's children." Johnson's disorganized narrative spans from 1645 to late 1651; it’s likely Hutchinson was mistaken in thinking the Springfield cases took place as early as 1645. The Massachusetts colonial records, dated May 8, 1651, have this entry:[i.418]

"The Court, understanding that Mary Parsons, now in prison, accused for a witch, is likely, through weakness, to die before trial, if it be deferred, do order, that, on the morrow, by eight o'clock in the morning, she be brought before and tried by the General Court, the rather that Mr. Pinchon may be present to give his testimony in the case."

"The Court, recognizing that Mary Parsons, currently in prison, accused of witchcraft, is likely to die before her trial if it's postponed, orders that she be brought before and tried by the General Court tomorrow morning at eight o'clock, especially so Mr. Pinchon can be present to provide his testimony in the case."

Mr. Pinchon was probably able to stay a few days longer. She was not brought to trial before the Court until the 13th, under which date is the following:—

Mr. Pinchon was probably able to stay a few days longer. She was not brought to trial before the Court until the 13th, under which date is the following:—

"Mary Parsons, wife of Hugh Parsons, of Springfield, being committed to prison for suspicion of witchcraft, as also for murdering her own child, was this day called forth, and indicted for witchcraft. 'By the name of Mary Parsons, you are here, before the General Court, charged, in the name of this Commonwealth, that, not having the fear of God before your eyes nor in your heart, being seduced by the Devil, and yielding to his malicious motion, about the end of February last, at Springfield, to have familiarity, or consulted with, a familiar spirit, making a covenant with him; and have used divers devilish practices by witchcraft, to the hurt of the persons of Martha and Rebecca Moxon, against the word of God and the laws of this jurisdiction, long since made and published.' To which indictment she pleaded 'Not guilty.' All evidences brought in against her being heard and examined, the Court found the evidences were not sufficient to prove her a witch, and therefore she was cleared in that respect.

"Mary Parsons, the wife of Hugh Parsons from Springfield, was taken to prison on suspicion of witchcraft and for allegedly murdering her own child. Today, she was brought forward and charged with witchcraft. 'By the name of Mary Parsons, you stand here before the General Court, accused, in the name of this Commonwealth, of not having the fear of God in your heart, being tempted by the Devil, and yielding to his evil influence. Around the end of February last, in Springfield, you are alleged to have communicated with a familiar spirit, making a pact with him; and you have engaged in various harmful practices through witchcraft, causing injury to Martha and Rebecca Moxon, contrary to the word of God and the laws of this jurisdiction, which have long been established and published.' She pleaded 'Not guilty' to the charges. After hearing and examining all the evidence against her, the Court determined that there was not enough proof to label her a witch, and therefore, she was acquitted on those grounds."

"At the same time, she was indicted for murdering her child. 'By the name of Mary Parsons, you are here, before the General Court, charged, in the name of this Common[i.419]wealth, that, not having the fear of God before your eyes nor in your heart, being seduced by the Devil, and yielding to his instigations and the wickedness of your own heart, about the beginning of March last, in Springfield, in or near your own house, did wilfully and most wickedly murder your own child, against the word of God and the laws of this jurisdiction, long since made and published.' To which she acknowledged herself guilty.

"At the same time, she was charged with murdering her child. 'By the name of Mary Parsons, you are here, before the General Court, accused, in the name of this Commonwealth, that, not having the fear of God before your eyes or in your heart, being led astray by the Devil, and giving in to his temptations and the evil in your own heart, around the beginning of March last, in Springfield, in or near your own home, did willfully and very wickedly murder your own child, in violation of the word of God and the laws of this jurisdiction, long since established and published.' To which she admitted her guilt."

"The Court, finding her guilty of murder by her own confession, &c., proceeded to judgment: 'You shall be carried from this place to the place from whence you came, and from thence to the place of execution, and there hang till you be dead.'"

"The Court, finding her guilty of murder based on her own confession, proceeded to judgment: 'You will be taken from this place back to where you came from, and from there to the execution site, and you will hang there until you are dead.'"

Under the same date—May 13—is an order of the Court appointing a day of humiliation "throughout our jurisdiction in all the churches," in consideration, among other things, of the extent to which "Satan prevails amongst us in respect of witchcrafts."

Under the same date—May 13—is an order from the Court appointing a day of humility "throughout our jurisdiction in all the churches," in light of, among other things, how much "Satan is winning against us in relation to witchcraft."

The colonial records, under date of May 31, 1652, recite the facts, that Hugh Parsons, of Springfield, had been tried before the Court of Assistants—held at Boston, May 12, 1652—for witchcraft; that the case was transferred to a "jury of trials," which found him guilty. The magistrates not consenting to the verdict of the jury, the case came legally to the General Court, which body decided that "he was not legally guilty of witchcraft, and so not to die by law."

The colonial records, dated May 31, 1652, state that Hugh Parsons from Springfield was tried by the Court of Assistants in Boston on May 12, 1652, for witchcraft. The case was then moved to a trial jury, which found him guilty. Since the magistrates disagreed with the jury's verdict, the case was brought to the General Court, which ruled that he was not legally guilty of witchcraft and therefore should not face the death penalty.

When these citations are collated and examined, and it is remembered that Mr. Moxon was the "reverend elder" of the church at Springfield, it cannot be doubted[i.420] that the case of the Parsonses is that referred to by Johnson in the "Wonder-working Providence," and that Hutchinson was in error as to the date. We are left in doubt as to the fate of Mary Parsons. There is a marginal entry on the records, to the effect that she was reprieved to the 29th of May. Neither Johnson nor Hutchinson seem to have thought that the sentence was ever carried into effect. It clearly never ought to have been. The woman was in a weak and dying condition, her mind was probably broken down,—the victim of that peculiar kind of mania—partaking of the character of a religious fanaticism and perversion of ideas—that has often led to child-murder.

When these references are gathered and reviewed, and considering that Mr. Moxon was the "reverend elder" of the church in Springfield, it’s clear[i.420] that the case of the Parsonses is the one mentioned by Johnson in the "Wonder-working Providence," and that Hutchinson was mistaken about the date. We are left uncertain about what happened to Mary Parsons. There’s a note in the records stating she was given a reprieve until May 29th. Neither Johnson nor Hutchinson appears to have believed that the sentence was ever carried out. It clearly should never have been. The woman was in a fragile and dying state, and her mind was likely broken—she was a victim of that unique type of madness, which had elements of religious fanaticism and distorted ideas, that has often resulted in child-murder.

These instances show, that, at that time, the General Court exercised consideration and discrimination in the treatment of questions of this kind brought before it.

These examples demonstrate that, back then, the General Court applied careful thought and discernment when addressing issues of this nature that were presented to it.

Hutchinson, on the authority of Hale, says that a woman at Dorchester, and another at Cambridge, were executed, not far from this time, for witchcraft; and that they asserted their innocence with their dying breath. He also says, that, in 1650, "a poor wretch,—Mary Oliver,—probably weary of her life from the general reputation of being a witch, after long examination, was brought to a confession of her guilt; but I do not find that she was executed."

Hutchinson, citing Hale, mentions that a woman in Dorchester and another in Cambridge were executed around this time for witchcraft, claiming their innocence until the end. He also notes that in 1650, "a poor soul—Mary Oliver—likely tired of being known as a witch, after a lengthy interrogation, confessed to her guilt; however, I haven't found any record of her execution."

In 1656, a very remarkable case occurred. William Hibbins was a merchant in Boston, and one of the most prominent and honored citizens of Massachusetts. He was admitted a freeman in 1640; was deputy in the[i.421] General Court in that and the following year; was elected an assistant for twelve successive years,—from 1643 to 1654; represented the Colony, for a time, as its agent in England, and received the thanks of the General Court for his valuable service there. No one appears to have had more influence, or to have enjoyed more honorable distinction, during his long legislative career. He died in 1654. Hutchinson says, in the text of his first and second volumes, that his widow was tried, condemned, and hanged as a witch in 1655, although he corrects the error in a note to the passage in the first volume. The following is the statement of the case in the Massachusetts colonial records, under the date of May 14, 1656:—

In 1656, a very notable event took place. William Hibbins was a merchant in Boston and one of the most respected and esteemed citizens of Massachusetts. He became a freeman in 1640, served as deputy in the[i.421] General Court that year and the next; he was elected an assistant for twelve straight years—from 1643 to 1654; represented the Colony for a time as its agent in England, and received thanks from the General Court for his valuable service there. No one seems to have had more influence or enjoyed more honorable recognition during his lengthy legislative career. He passed away in 1654. Hutchinson notes in his first and second volumes that his widow was tried, condemned, and hanged as a witch in 1655, although he corrects the mistake in a note to that passage in the first volume. The following is the account of the case in the Massachusetts colonial records, dated May 14, 1656:—

"The magistrates not receiving the verdict of the jury in Mrs. Hibbins her case, having been on trial for witchcraft, it came and fell, of course, to the General Court. Mrs. Ann Hibbins was called forth, appeared at the bar, the indictment against her was read; to which she answered, 'Not guilty,' and was willing to be tried by God and this Court. The evidence against her was read, the parties witnessing being present, her answers considered on; and the whole Court, being met together, by their vote, determined that Mrs. Ann Hibbins is guilty of witchcraft, according to the bill of indictment found against her by the jury of life and death. The Governor, in open Court, pronounced sentence accordingly; declaring she was to go from the bar to the place from whence she came, and from thence to the place of execution, and there to hang till she was dead.

The magistrates, not accepting the jury's verdict in Mrs. Hibbins' case, which was about witchcraft, passed it on to the General Court. Mrs. Ann Hibbins was called forward, stood before the court, and the charges against her were read; she responded, 'Not guilty,' and agreed to be tried by God and this Court. The evidence against her was presented, with the witnesses present, and her responses were considered; the entire Court, having convened, decided by vote that Mrs. Ann Hibbins was guilty of witchcraft, according to the charges brought against her by the jury regarding her life and death. The Governor, in open Court, declared the sentence, stating she was to return from the bar to the place she came from, and from there to the execution site, where she would be hanged until dead.

"It is ordered, that warrant shall issue out from the secretary to the marshal general, for the execution of Mrs. Hib[i.422]bins, on the fifth day next come fortnight, presently after the lecture at Boston, being the 19th of June next; the marshal general taking with him a sufficient guard."

"It is ordered that a warrant will be issued from the secretary to the marshal general for the execution of Mrs. Hib[i.422]bins on the fifth day in two weeks, right after the lecture in Boston, which is the 19th of June; the marshal general will take a sufficient guard with him."

Mrs. Hibbins is stated to have been a sister of Richard Bellingham, at that very time deputy-governor, and always regarded as one of the chief men in the country. Strange to say, very little notice appears to have been taken of this event, beyond the immediate locality; but what little has come down to us indicates that it was a case of outrageous folly and barbarity, justly reflecting infamy upon the community at the time. Hutchinson, who wrote a hundred years after the event, and evidently had no other foundation for his opinion than vague conjectural tradition, gives the following explanation of the proceedings against her: "Losses, in the latter part of her husband's life, had reduced his estate, and increased the natural crabbedness of his wife's temper, which made her turbulent and quarrelsome, and brought her under church censures, and at length rendered her so odious to her neighbors as to cause some of them to accuse her of witchcraft."

Mrs. Hibbins was a sister of Richard Bellingham, who was the deputy governor at the time and was considered one of the most important figures in the area. Strangely, there seems to have been little attention paid to this incident beyond the local community; however, what little information we have suggests it was a case of outrageous foolishness and cruelty, justly bringing shame to the society at that time. Hutchinson, writing a hundred years later and clearly relying on vague hearsay for his views, provided the following explanation for the actions taken against her: "Losses during the latter part of her husband's life had diminished their wealth and intensified her naturally difficult temperament, which made her irritable and confrontational, eventually leading her to face church disciplinary action and causing her to become so disliked by her neighbors that some accused her of witchcraft."

While this is hardly worthy of being considered a sufficient explanation of the matter,—it being beyond belief, that, even at that time, a person could be condemned and executed merely on account of a "crabbed temper,"—it is not consistent with the facts, as made known to us from the record-offices. She could not have been so reduced in circumstances as to produce such extraordinary effects upon her character, for she[i.423] left a good estate. The truth is, that the tongue of slander was let loose upon her, and the calumnies circulated by reckless gossip became so magnified and exaggerated, and assumed such proportions, as enabled her vilifiers to bring her under the censure of the church, and that emboldened them to cry out against her as a witch. Hutchinson expresses the opinion that she was the victim of popular clamor. But that alone, without some pretence or show of evidence, could not have brought the General Court, in reversal of the judgment of the magistrates, to condemn to death a person of such a high social position.

While this hardly qualifies as a sufficient explanation of the matter—it’s unbelievable that, even at that time, someone could be condemned and executed just for having a "bad temper"—it doesn’t align with the facts we have from the records. She couldn't have been in such dire circumstances that they drastically altered her character, especially since she[i.423] left behind a good estate. The truth is, slanderous talk was unleashed against her, and the rumors spread by careless gossip grew so exaggerated and inflated that they enabled her critics to bring her under church censure, which encouraged them to label her a witch. Hutchinson believes she was a victim of public outcry. But even that, without any kind of pretense or show of evidence, couldn't have led the General Court, against the magistrates' judgment, to condemn someone of such high social standing to death.

The only clue we have to the kind of evidence bearing upon the charge of witchcraft that brought this recently bereaved widow to so cruel and shameful a death, is in a letter, written by a clergyman in Jamaica to Increase Mather in 1684, in which he says, "You may remember what I have sometimes told you your famous Mr. Norton once said at his own table,—before Mr. Wilson, the pastor, elder Penn, and myself and wife, &c., who had the honor to be his guests,—that one of your magistrate's wives, as I remember, was hanged for a witch only for having more wit than her neighbors. It was his very expression; she having, as he explained it, unhappily guessed that two of her persecutors, whom she saw talking in the street, were talking of her, which, proving true, cost her her life, notwithstanding all he could do to the contrary, as he himself told us." Nothing was more natural than for her to suppose, knowing the parties, witnessing their[i.424] manner, considering their active co-operation in getting up the excitement against her, which was then the all-engrossing topic, that they were talking about her. But, in the blind infatuation of the time, it was considered proof positive of her being possessed, by the aid of the Devil, of supernatural insight,—precisely as, forty years afterwards, such evidence was brought to bear, with telling effect, against George Burroughs.—The body of this unfortunate lady was searched for witchmarks, and her trunks and premises rummaged for puppets.

The only clue we have about the evidence related to the witchcraft charge that led this recently widowed woman to such a cruel and shameful death is a letter written by a clergyman in Jamaica to Increase Mather in 1684. In it, he says, "You may remember what I’ve told you about what your famous Mr. Norton once said at his own table—before Mr. Wilson, the pastor, elder Penn, and my wife and me, who had the honor of being his guests—that one of your magistrate’s wives, if I recall correctly, was hanged as a witch just for having more intelligence than her neighbors. That was his exact wording; she had, as he explained, unfortunately guessed that two of her accusers, whom she saw talking in the street, were discussing her, which turned out to be true and cost her her life, despite all he could do to stop it, as he himself told us." It was only natural for her to think this, knowing the people involved, observing their behavior, and considering their active role in creating the excitement against her, which was the major topic at the time, that they were talking about her. But, in the blind infatuation of the era, it was seen as clear evidence that she was possessed by the Devil and had supernatural insight—just as, forty years later, similar evidence was used effectively against George Burroughs. The body of this unfortunate woman was searched for witch marks, and her belongings and property were sifted through for puppets.

It is quite evident that means were used to get up a violent popular excitement against her, which became so formidable as to silence every voice that dared to speak in her favor. Joshua Scottow, a citizen of great respectability and a selectman, ventured to give evidence in her favor, counter, in its bearings, to some testimony against her; and he was dealt with very severely, and compelled to write an humble apology to the Court, to disavow all friendly interest in Mrs. Hibbins, and to pray "that the sword of justice may be drawn forth against all wickedness." He says, "I am cordially sorry that any thing from me, either by word or writing, should give offence to the honored Court, my dear brethren in the church, or any others."

It's clear that efforts were made to stir up a violent public uproar against her, which became so intense that it silenced anyone who dared to speak on her behalf. Joshua Scottow, a highly respected citizen and selectman, bravely provided evidence in her favor, which contradicted some testimony against her. He was treated very harshly for this and forced to write a humble apology to the Court, disavowing any friendly interest in Mrs. Hibbins, and asking "that the sword of justice may be drawn forth against all wickedness." He stated, "I am sincerely sorry that anything from me, whether spoken or written, should offend the honored Court, my dear brethren in the church, or anyone else."

Hutchinson states that there were, however, some persons then in Boston, who denounced the proceedings against Mrs. Hibbins, and regarded her, not merely as a persecuted woman, but as "a saint;" that a deep feeling of resentment against her persecutors long[i.425] remained in their minds; and that they afterwards "observed solemn marks of Providence set upon those who were very forward to condemn her." It is evident that the Court of Magistrates were opposed to her conviction, and that Mr. Norton did what he could to save her. He was one of the four "great Johns," who were the first ministers of the church in Boston; and it is remarkable, as showing the violence of the people against her, that even his influence was of no avail in her favor. But she had other friends, as appears from her will, which, after all, is the only source of reliable information we have respecting her character. It is dated May 27, 1656, a few days after she received the sentence of death. In it she names, as overseers and administrators of her estate, "Captain Thomas Clarke, Lieutenant Edward Hutchinson, Lieutenant William Hudson, Ensign Joshua Scottow, and Cornet Peter Oliver." In a codicil, she says, "I do earnestly desire my loving friends, Captain Johnson and Mr. Edward Rawson, to be added to the rest of the gentlemen mentioned as overseers of my will." It can hardly be doubted, that these persons—and they were all leading citizens—were known by her to be among her friends.

Hutchinson notes that there were some people in Boston at that time who criticized the actions taken against Mrs. Hibbins, viewing her not just as a victim but as "a saint." They held onto a strong sense of resentment towards her persecutors for a long time, and they later "saw clear signs of Providence marked upon those who were quick to condemn her." It's clear that the Court of Magistrates was against her conviction, and Mr. Norton did everything he could to help her. He was one of the four "great Johns," the first ministers of the church in Boston, and it’s striking that even his influence couldn’t sway public opinion in her favor. However, she had other supporters, as indicated by her will, which is the only reliable source of information regarding her character. It’s dated May 27, 1656, just a few days after she received her death sentence. In it, she names "Captain Thomas Clarke, Lieutenant Edward Hutchinson, Lieutenant William Hudson, Ensign Joshua Scottow, and Cornet Peter Oliver" as overseers and administrators of her estate. In a codicil, she states, "I do earnestly desire my loving friends, Captain Johnson and Mr. Edward Rawson, to be added to the rest of the gentlemen mentioned as overseers of my will." It's clear that these individuals, all prominent citizens, were known to her as friends.

The whole tone and manner of these instruments give evidence, that she had a mind capable of rising above the power of wrong, suffering, and death itself. They show a spirit calm and serene. The disposition of her property indicates good sense, good feeling, and business faculties suitable to the occasion. In the[i.426] body of the will, there is not a word, a syllable, or a turn of expression, that refers to, or is in the slightest degree colored by, her peculiar situation. In the codicil, dated June 16, there is this sentence: "My desire is, that all my overseers would be pleased to show so much respect unto my dead corpse as to cause it to be decently interred, and, if it may be, near my late husband."

The overall tone and style of these documents show that she had a mind capable of rising above the power of injustice, suffering, and even death. They reflect a calm and serene spirit. The way she arranged her assets demonstrates good judgment, kindness, and practical skills appropriate for the situation. In the[i.426] main part of the will, there isn’t a single word, syllable, or expression that mentions or is even slightly influenced by her unique circumstances. In the codicil dated June 16, there is this sentence: "My wish is that all my overseers would kindly show some respect for my deceased body by ensuring it is buried decently, and, if possible, near my late husband."

When married to Mr. Hibbins, she was a widow, named Moore. There were no children by her last marriage,—certainly none living at the time of her death. There were three sons by her former marriage,—John, Joseph, and Jonathan. These were all in England; but the youngest, hearing of her situation, embarked for America. When she wrote the codicil,—three days before her execution,—she added, at the end, having apparently just heard of his coming, "I give my son Jonathan twenty pounds, over and above what I have already given him, towards his pains and charge in coming to see me, which shall be first paid out of my estate." There is reason to cherish the belief that he reached her in the short interval between the date of the codicil and her death, from the tenor of the following postscript, written and signed on the morning of her execution: "My further mind and will is, out of my sense of the more than ordinary affection and pains of my son Jonathan in the times of my distress, I give him, as a further legacy, ten pounds." The will was proved in Court, July 2, 1656. The will and codicil speak of her "farms at Muddy River;" and[i.427] of chests and a desk, in which were valuables of such importance that she took especial pains to intrust the keys of them to Edward Rawson, in a provision of the codicil. The estate was inventoried at £344. 14s., which was a considerable property in those days, as money was then valued.

When she was married to Mr. Hibbins, she was a widow named Moore. There were no children from her last marriage—certainly none alive at the time of her death. She had three sons from her first marriage—John, Joseph, and Jonathan. All of them were in England, but the youngest, upon hearing about her situation, set sail for America. When she wrote the codicil, just three days before her execution, she added at the end, apparently after learning about his arrival, "I give my son Jonathan twenty pounds, in addition to what I've already given him, to help with the expenses he incurred coming to see me, which shall be paid first from my estate." There is reason to believe he reached her in the brief period between when the codicil was written and her death, as indicated by the following postscript, written and signed on the morning of her execution: "Furthermore, due to the extraordinary affection and care of my son Jonathan during my times of distress, I give him, as an additional legacy, ten pounds." The will was confirmed in court on July 2, 1656. The will and codicil mention her "farms at Muddy River;" and[i.427] also some chests and a desk, containing valuables significant enough that she took special care to entrust the keys to Edward Rawson, as stated in the codicil. The estate was inventoried at £344. 14s., which was quite a considerable amount of money back then.

Hutchinson mentions a case of witchcraft in Hartford, in 1662, where some women were accused, and, after being proceeded against until they were confounded and bewildered, one of them made the most preposterous confessions, which ought to have satisfied every one that her reason was overthrown; three of them were condemned, and one, certainly,—probably all,—executed. In 1669, he says that Susanna Martin, of Salisbury,—whom we shall meet again,—was bound over to the Court on the same charge, "but escaped at that time." Another case is mentioned by him as having occurred, in 1671, at Groton, in which the party confessed, and thereby avoided condemnation. In 1673, a case occurred at Hampton; but the jury, although, as they said, there was strong ground of suspicion, returned a verdict of "Not guilty;" the evidence not being deemed quite sufficient. There were several other cases, about this time, in which some persons were severely handled in consequence of being reputed witches; and others suffered, as they imagined, "under an evil hand."

Hutchinson discusses a witchcraft case in Hartford in 1662, where several women were accused. After being pressed until they were confused and bewildered, one woman made an absurd confession, which should have shown everyone that she had lost her mind. Three of them were sentenced, and one—likely all of them—was executed. In 1669, he notes that Susanna Martin from Salisbury, whom we’ll encounter again, was brought to court on the same charge but managed to escape that time. He mentions another case from 1671 in Groton where the accused confessed and avoided condemnation. In 1673, a case arose in Hampton; however, the jury, despite expressing strong suspicion, returned a verdict of "Not guilty" because the evidence wasn’t considered strong enough. There were several other cases around this period where people were harshly treated because they were thought to be witches, while others suffered, believing they were “under an evil hand.”

In this immediate neighborhood, there had been several attempts, previous to the delusion at Salem Village in 1692, to get up witchcraft prosecutions,[i.428] but without much success. The people of this county had not become sufficiently infected with the fanaticism of the times to proceed to extremities.

In this immediate area, there had been several attempts, prior to the hysteria in Salem Village in 1692, to start witchcraft trials,[i.428] but they didn't have much success. The people of this county hadn't become deeply influenced by the fanaticism of the era to take things too far.

In September, 1652, the following presentment was made by the grand jury:—

In September 1652, the grand jury made the following presentation:—

"We present John Bradstreet, of Rowley, for suspicion of having familiarity with the Devil. He said he read in a book of magic, and that he heard a voice asking him what work he had for him. He answered, 'Go make a bridge of sand over the sea; go make a ladder of sand up to heaven, and go to God, and come down no more.'

"We present John Bradstreet from Rowley, suspecting him of having dealings with the Devil. He claimed he read a book on magic and that he heard a voice asking him what task he had for it. He replied, 'Go build a bridge of sand over the sea; go build a ladder of sand up to heaven, and go to God, and don't come back again.'"

"Witness hereof, Francis Parat and his wife, of Rowley.
"Witness, William Bartholomew, of Ipswich."

"Witness to this, Francis Parat and his wife, from Rowley.
"Witness, William Bartholomew, from Ipswich."

On the 28th of that month, the jury at Ipswich, "upon examination of the case, found he had told a lie, which was a second, being convicted once before. The Court sets a fine of twenty shillings, or else to be whipped."

On the 28th of that month, the jury at Ipswich, "after reviewing the case, found that he had lied, which was a second offense, as he had been convicted once before. The Court imposed a fine of twenty shillings, or he would be whipped."

Bradstreet was probably in the habit of romancing, and it was wisely concluded not to take a more serious view of his offences.

Bradstreet was likely used to flirting, and it was wisely decided not to take a more serious perspective on his wrongdoings.

In 1658, a singular case of this kind occurred in Essex County. The following papers relating to it illustrate the sentiments and forms of thought prevalent at that time, and give an insight of the state of society in some particulars:—

In 1658, a unique case of this kind happened in Essex County. The following documents related to it show the attitudes and ways of thinking common at that time, and provide insight into the state of society in certain aspects:—

"To the Honored Court to be holden at Ipswich, this twelfth month, '58 or '59.

"To the Honored Court to be held at Ipswich, this twelfth month, '58 or '59.

"Honored Gentlemen,—Whereas divers of esteem with us, and as we hear in other places also, have for[i.429] some time suffered losses in their estates, and some affliction in their bodies also,—which, as they suppose, doth not arise from any natural cause, or any neglect in themselves, but rather from some ill-disposed person,—that, upon differences had betwixt themselves and one John Godfrey, resident at Andover or elsewhere at his pleasure, we whose names are underwritten do make bold to sue by way of request to this honored court, that you, in your wisdom, will be pleased, if you see cause for it, to call him in question, and to hear, at present or at some after sessions, what may be said in this respect.

"Honored Gentlemen,—We, along with several respected individuals, have been experiencing losses in our properties and some health issues over the past [i.429]. We believe these problems are not due to natural causes or any neglect on our part, but rather from the actions of a malicious person. In light of the disputes between us and one John Godfrey, who lives in Andover or wherever he chooses, we, the undersigned, respectfully request that this honored court, in its wisdom, consider calling him to account and hear, either now or at a future session, what can be said regarding this matter."

"James Davis, Sr., in the behalf of his son Ephraim Davis.
John Haseldin, and Jane his wife.
Abraham Whitaker, for his ox and other things.
Ephraim Davis, in the behalf of himself."

"James Davis, Sr., on behalf of his son Ephraim Davis.
John Haseldin, and his wife Jane.
Abraham Whitaker, for his ox and other items.
Ephraim Davis, on behalf of himself."

The petitioners mention in brief some instances in confirmation of their complaint. There are several depositions. That of Charles Browne and wife says:—

The petitioners briefly mention a few examples to support their complaint. There are several statements made under oath. One from Charles Browne and his wife states:—

"About six or seven years since, in the meeting-house of Rowley, being in the gallery in the first seat, there was one in the second seat which he doth, to his best remembrance, think and believe it was John Godfrey. This deponent did see him, yawning, open his mouth; and, while he so yawned, this deponent did see a small teat under his tongue. And, further, this deponent saith that John Godfrey was in this deponent's house about three years since. Speaking about the power of witches, he the said Godfrey spoke, that, if witches were not kindly entertained, the Devil will appear unto them, and ask them if they were grieved or vexed with anybody, and ask them what he should do for them; and, if[i.430] they would not give them beer or victuals, they might let all the beer run out of the cellar; and, if they looked steadfastly upon any creature, it would die; and, if it were hard to some witches to take away life, either of man or beast, yet, when they once begin it, then it is easy to them."

"About six or seven years ago, in the meeting house in Rowley, I was sitting in the front row of the gallery. In the second row, I believe it was John Godfrey. I saw him yawn and open his mouth; while he was yawning, I noticed a small growth under his tongue. Additionally, I can say that John Godfrey was at my house about three years ago. While discussing the power of witches, he mentioned that if witches aren't treated well, the Devil will show up and ask them if they're upset with anyone and what he should do for them. If they don't offer him beer or food, he might make all the beer run out of the cellar. He said that if a witch stares intently at any living thing, it would die. And even if it’s hard for some witches to take a life, whether of a person or an animal, once they start doing it, it becomes easy for them."

The depositions in this case are presented as they are in the originals on file, leaving in blank such words or parts of words as have been worn off. They are given in full.

The depositions in this case are presented exactly as they are in the original documents on file, with any words or parts of words that have worn away left blank. They are provided in full.

"The Deposition of Isabel Holdred, who testifieth that John Godfree came to the house of Henry Blazdall, where her husband and herself were, and demanded a debt of her husband, and said a warrant was out, and Goodman Lord was suddenly to come. John Godfree asked if we would not pay him. The deponent answered, 'Yes, to-night or to-morrow, if we had it; for I believe we shall not ... we are in thy debt.' John Godfree answered, 'That is a bitter word;' ... said, 'I must begin, and must send Goodman Lord.' The deponent answered, '... when thou wilt. I fear thee not, nor all the devils in hell!' And, further, this deponent testifieth, that, two days after this, she was taken with those strange fits, with which she was tormented a fortnight together, night and day. And several apparitions appeared to the deponent in the night. The first night, a humble-bee, the next night a bear, appeared, which grinned the teeth and shook the claw: 'Thou sayest thou art not afraid. Thou thinkest Harry Blazdall's house will save thee.' The deponent answered, 'I hope the Lord Jesus Christ will save me.' The apparition then spake: 'Thou sayst thou art not afraid of all the devils in hell; but I will[i.431] have thy heart's blood within a few hours!' The next was the apparition of a great snake, at which the deponent was exceedingly affrighted, and skipt to Nathan Gold, who was in the opposite chimney-corner, and caught hold of the hair of his head; and her speech was taken away for the space of half an hour. The next night appeared a great horse; and, Thomas Hayne being there, the deponent told him of it, and showed him where. The said Tho. Hayne took a stick, and struck at the place where the apparition was; and his stroke glanced by the side of it, and it went under the table. And he went to strike again; then the apparition fled to the ... and made it shake, and went away. And, about a week after, the deponent ... son were at the door of Nathan Gold, and heard a rushing on the ... The deponent said to her son, 'Yonder is a beast.' He answered, ''Tis one of Goodman Cobbye's black oxen;' and it came toward them, and came within ... yards of them. The deponent her heart began to ache, for it seemed to have great eyes; and spoke to the boy, 'Let's go in.' But suddenly the ox beat her up against the wall, and struck her down; and she was much hurt by it, not being able to rise up. But some others carried me into the house, all my face being bloody, being much bruised. The boy was much affrighted a long time after; and, for the space of two hours, he was in a sweat that one might have washed hands on his hair. Further this deponent affirmeth, that she hath been often troubled with ... black cat sometimes appearing in the house, and sometimes in the night ... bed, and lay on her, and sometimes stroking her face. The cat seemed ... thrice as big as an ordinary cat."

The Testimony of Isabel Holdred, who testifies that John Godfree came to the house of Henry Blazdall, where she and her husband were, and demanded a debt from her husband, saying a warrant was out and Goodman Lord was expected to arrive any minute. John Godfree asked if they would not pay him. The witness replied, 'Yes, tonight or tomorrow, if we had it; for I believe we shall not... we owe you.' John Godfree replied, 'That is a harsh statement;' ... said, 'I have to start, and I must send Goodman Lord.' The witness replied, '... whenever you want. I’m not afraid of you, nor all the devils in hell!' Furthermore, this witness testifies that two days after this, she was seized with strange fits, which tormented her for a fortnight, day and night. Several apparitions showed up to her at night. The first night, a humble bee, the next night a bear appeared, baring its teeth and shaking its claws: 'You say you are not afraid. You think Harry Blazdall's house will protect you.' The witness replied, 'I believe the Lord Jesus Christ will protect me.' The apparition then said: 'You say you are not afraid of all the devils in hell; but I will[i.431] have your heart's blood within a few hours!' The next apparition was a huge snake, which greatly frightened the witness; she jumped to Nathan Gold, who was in the opposite corner, and grabbed his hair; her speech was taken from her for half an hour. The next night a large horse appeared; and, with Thomas Hayne present, the witness told him about it and showed him where it was. Thomas Hayne took a stick and swung at the spot where the apparition was; his swing missed, and it vanished under the table. He went to swing again and the apparition fled to the ... causing it to shake, then it disappeared. About a week later, the witness and her son were at Nathan Gold's door and heard a rush of wind. The witness said to her son, 'There's a beast over there.' He answered, 'It’s one of Goodman Cobbye's black oxen;' and it moved toward them, coming within ... yards of them. The witness felt her heart start to race, as it seemed to have huge eyes; she told the boy, 'Let's go inside.' But suddenly the ox charged her against the wall, knocking her down; she was badly hurt and unable to get up. Others helped her inside, her face covered in blood and badly bruised. The boy was very frightened for a long time after; for two hours, he was in a terrible sweat, as if someone could have washed their hands in his hair. Furthermore, this witness affirms that she has often been troubled by ... a black cat appearing in the house, sometimes at night, ... lying on her and sometimes stroking her face. The cat seemed ... three times the size of an ordinary cat.

"Thomas Hayne testifieth, that, being with Goodwife Holdridge, she told me that she saw a great horse, and[i.432] showed me where it stood. I then took a stick, and struck on the place, but felt nothing; and I heard the door shake, and Good. H. said it was gone out at the door. Immediately after, she was taken with extremity of fear and pain, so that she presently fell into a sweat, and I thought she would swoon. She trembled and shook like a leaf.

"Thomas Hayne testifies that while he was with Goodwife Holdridge, she told him she saw a huge horse and[i.432] showed him where it stood. He then grabbed a stick and hit the spot but felt nothing; he heard the door shake, and Goodwife H. said it had gone out the door. Soon after, she was overcome with extreme fear and pain, causing her to break into a sweat, and he thought she might faint. She was trembling and shaking like a leaf."

"Thomas Hayne."

"Thomas Hayne."

"Nathan Gould being with Goodwife Holgreg one night, there appeared a great snake, as she said, with open mouth; and she, being weak,—hardly able to go alone,—yet then ran and laid hold of Nathan Gould by the head, and could not speak for the space of half an hour.

"Nathan Gould was with Goodwife Holgreg one night when a large snake appeared, as she reported, with its mouth wide open. She, who was physically weak and could hardly walk on her own, still managed to run and grab Nathan Gould by the head, unable to speak for about half an hour."

"Nathan Gould."

"Nathan Gould."

"William Osgood testifieth, that, in the yeare '40, in the month of August,—he being then building a barn for Mr. Spencer,—John Godfree being then Mr. Spencer's herdsman, he on an evening came to the frame, where divers men were at work, and said that he had gotten a new master against the time he had done keeping cows. The said William Osgood asked him who it was. He answered, he knew not. He again asked him where he dwelt. He answered, he knew not. He asked him what his name was. He answered, he knew not. He then said to him, 'How, then, wilt thou go to him when thy time is out?' He said, 'The man will come and fetch me then.' I asked him, 'Hast thou made an absolute bargain?' He answered that a covenant was made, and he had set his hand to it. He then asked of him whether he had not a counter covenant. Godfree answered, 'No.' W.O. said, 'What a mad fellow art thou to make a covenant in this manner!' He said, 'He's an honest man.'—'How knowest thou?' said W.O. J. Godfree answered. 'He looks like one.' W.O. then[i.433] answered, 'I am persuaded thou hast made a covenant with the Devil.' He then skipped about, and said, 'I profess, I profess!'

"William Osgood testified that in the year '40, in August—he was then building a barn for Mr. Spencer—John Godfree, who was Mr. Spencer's herdsman, came to the worksite one evening where several men were working. He said that he had found a new master for when he finished taking care of the cows. William Osgood asked him who it was, and he replied that he didn’t know. Osgood then asked where he lived, and he again said he didn’t know. He asked what the name was, and Godfree said he didn’t know that either. Osgood then asked, 'How will you go to him when your time is up?' Godfree said, 'The man will come and get me then.' Osgood pressed, 'Did you make a formal agreement?' He answered that a covenant was made, and he had signed it. Osgood then asked if he had a counter covenant. Godfree replied, 'No.' Osgood said, 'What a crazy guy you are to make a covenant like that!' Godfree defended, 'He's an honest man.' Osgood responded, 'How do you know?' Godfree said, 'He looks like one.' Osgood then[i.433] remarked, 'I’m convinced you’ve made a deal with the Devil.' Godfree then started skipping around, saying, 'I swear, I swear!'"

William Osgood."

William Osgood.

The proceedings against Godfrey were carried up to other tribunals, as appears by a record of the County Court at Salem, 28th of June, 1659:—

The case against Godfrey was taken to higher courts, as noted in a record from the County Court in Salem, dated June 28, 1659:—

"John Godfrey stands bound in one hundred pound bond to the treasurer of this county for his appearance at a General Court, or Court of Assistants, when he shall be legally summonsed thereunto."

"John Godfrey is bound by a one hundred pound bond to the treasurer of this county for his appearance at a General Court or Court of Assistants when he is legally summoned."

What action, if any, was had by either of these high courts, I have found no information. But he must have come off unscathed; for, soon after, he commenced actions in the County Court for defamation against his accusers; with the following results:—

What action, if any, was taken by either of these high courts, I have found no information. But he must have come out unscathed; because shortly after, he started lawsuits in the County Court for defamation against his accusers; with the following results:—

"John Godfery plt. agst. Will. Simonds & Sam.ll his son dfts. in an action of slander that the said Sam.ll son to Will. Simons, hath don him in his name, Charging him to be a witch, the jury find for the plt. 2d damage & cost of Court 29sh., yet notwithstanding doe conceiue, that by the testmonyes he is rendred suspicious."

"John Godfery is suing Will Simonds and his son Sam in a defamation case. Sam, the son of Will Simonds, accused him of being a witch. The jury ruled in favor of the plaintiff, awarding him £2 in damages and court costs of 29 shillings. However, they still believe that the testimonies make him seem suspicious."

"John Godfery plt. agst. Jonathan Singletary defendt. in an action of Slander & Defamation for calling him witch & said is this witch on this side Boston Gallows yet, the attachm.t & other evidences were read, committed to the Jury & are on file. The Jury found for the plt. a publique acknowledgmt, at Haverhill within a month that he hath done the plt. wrong in his words or 10sh damage & costs of Court £2-16-0."

"John Godfery is the plaintiff against Jonathan Singletary, the defendant, in a slander and defamation case for calling him a witch and asking if this witch is still hanging on this side of Boston Gallows. The attachment and other evidence were read, submitted to the jury, and are on file. The jury found in favor of the plaintiff, ordering a public acknowledgment at Haverhill within a month that he has wronged the plaintiff with his words or £10 in damages and court costs of £2-16-0."

In the trial of the case between Godfrey and Singletary, the latter attempted to prove the truth of his allegations against the former, by giving the following piece of testimony, which, while it failed to convince the jury, is worth preserving, from the inherent interest of some of its details:—

In the trial of the case between Godfrey and Singletary, the latter tried to prove the truth of his claims against the former by presenting the following testimony, which, although it didn't convince the jury, is worth keeping for the inherent interest of some of its details:—

"Date the fourteenth the twelfth month, '62.—The Deposition of Jonathan Singletary, aged about 23, who testifieth that I, being in the prison at Ipswich this night last past between nine and ten of the clock at night, after the bell had rung, I being set in a corner of the prison, upon a sudden I heard a great noise as if many cats had been climbing up the prison walls, and skipping into the house at the windows, and jumping about the chamber; and a noise as if boards' ends or stools had been thrown about, and men walking in the chambers, and a crackling and shaking as if the house would have fallen upon me. I seeing this, and considering what I knew by a young man that kept at my house last Indian Harvest, and, upon some difference with John Godfre, he was presently several nights in a strange manner troubled, and complaining as he did, and upon consideration of this and other things that I knew by him, I was at present something affrighted; yet considering what I had lately heard made out by Mr. Mitchel at Cambridge, that there is more good in God than there is evil in sin, and that although God is the greatest good, and sin the greatest evil, yet the first Being of evil cannot weane the scales or overpower the first Being of good: so considering that the author of good was of greater power than the author of evil, God was pleased of his goodness to keep me from being out of measure frighted. So this noise above[i.435]said held as I suppose about a quarter of an hour, and then ceased: and presently I heard the bolt of the door shoot or go back as perfectly, to my thinking, as I did the next morning when the keeper came to unlock it; and I could not see the door open, but I saw John Godfre stand within the door and said, 'Jonathan, Jonathan.' So I, looking on him, said, 'What have you to do with me?' He said, 'I come to see you: are you weary of your place yet?' I answered, 'I take no delight in being here, but I will be out as soon as I can.' He said, 'If you will pay me in corn, you shall come out.' I answered, 'No: if that had been my intent, I would have paid the marshal, and never have come hither.' He, knocking of his fist at me in a kind of a threatening way, said he would make me weary of my part, and so went away, I knew not how nor which way; and, as I was walking about in the prison, I tripped upon a stone with my heel, and took it up in my hand, thinking that if he came again I would strike at him. So, as I was walking about, he called at the window, 'Jonathan,' said he, 'if you will pay me corn, I will give you two years day, and we will come to an agreement;' I answered him saying, 'Why do you come dissembling and playing the Devil's part here? Your nature is nothing but envy and malice, which you will vent, though to your own loss; and you seek peace with no man.'—'I do not dissemble,' said he: 'I will give you my hand upon it, I am in earnest.' So he put his hand in at the window, and I took hold of it with my left hand, and pulled him to me; and with the stone in my right hand I thought I struck him, and went to recover my hand to strike again, and his hand was gone, and I would have struck, but there was nothing to strike: and how he went away I know not; for I could[i.436] neither feel when his hand went out of mine, nor see which way he went."

"Date: December 14, '62.—The Testimony of Jonathan Singletary, about 23 years old, who testifies that while I was in the Ipswich prison last night between nine and ten o'clock, after the bell had rung, I was sitting in a corner of the prison when I suddenly heard a loud noise, like many cats climbing the prison walls, jumping in through the windows, and scurrying around the room. There were sounds as if boards or stools were being thrown around, along with footsteps in the chambers, and a crackling and shaking as if the house was going to collapse on me. Seeing this and recalling what I knew about a young man who stayed at my house last Indian Harvest, who had been troubled for several nights after a disagreement with John Godfre, I was somewhat frightened. However, considering what I had recently heard from Mr. Mitchel at Cambridge, that there is more good in God than there is evil in sin, I reflected that although God is the greatest good and sin the greatest evil, the primary source of evil cannot tip the scales or overpower the ultimate source of good. So, I thought that since the author of good is more powerful than the author of evil, God was kind enough to keep me from being excessively afraid. This noise lasted, I suppose, about fifteen minutes, and then stopped. Almost immediately, I heard the bolt of the door shoot back exactly as I did the next morning when the keeper came to unlock it; I couldn't see the door open, but I saw John Godfre standing in the doorway saying, 'Jonathan, Jonathan.' I looked at him and said, 'What do you want with me?' He replied, 'I've come to see you: are you tired of being here yet?' I answered, 'I don't enjoy being here, but I'll leave as soon as I can.' He said, 'If you pay me in corn, you can come out.' I replied, 'No: if that had been my intention, I would have paid the marshal and never come here.' He then, threateningly knocking his fist at me, said he would make me tired of my situation, and then he left, and I didn't know how or which way he went. As I was walking around the prison, I tripped over a stone with my heel, picked it up, thinking that if he came back, I would strike him with it. While I was walking around, he knocked at the window and said, 'Jonathan, if you pay me corn, I will give you two years' time, and we can make a deal.' I responded, 'Why do you come pretending to negotiate and acting like the Devil? Your nature is nothing but envy and malice that you will express, even to your own detriment; you seek peace with no one.'—'I am not pretending,' he said: 'I will give you my word on it; I’m serious.' So he put his hand in through the window, and I grabbed it with my left hand and pulled him towards me; with the stone in my right hand, I thought I struck him, and tried to pull my hand back to hit again, but his hand was gone, and I would have struck again, but there was nothing to hit. How he left, I do not know; I could neither feel when his hand slipped out of mine nor see which way he went."

It can hardly be doubted, that Singletary's story was the result of the workings of an excited imagination, in wild and frightful dreams under the spasms of nightmare. We shall meet similar phenomena, when we come to the testimony in the trials of 1692.

It’s almost undeniable that Singletary's story came from an overactive imagination, filled with wild and terrifying dreams during nightmare episodes. We will encounter similar occurrences when we look at the testimonies from the trials of 1692.

Godfrey was a most eccentric character. He courted and challenged the imputation of witchcraft, and took delight in playing upon the credulity of his neighbors, enjoying the exhibition of their amazement, horror, and consternation. He was a person of much notoriety, had more lawsuits, it is probable, than any other man in the colony, and in one instance came under the criminal jurisdiction for familiarity with other than immaterial spirits; for we find, by the record of Sept. 25, 1666, that John Godfrey was "fined for being drunk."

Godfrey was a very eccentric character. He seemed to invite and challenge the accusations of witchcraft, and he took pleasure in playing on the gullibility of his neighbors, enjoying their amazement, horror, and shock. He was quite notorious, had more lawsuits than probably anyone else in the colony, and in one case, he even faced criminal charges for being involved with more than just imaginary spirits; as noted in the record from September 25, 1666, John Godfrey was "fined for being drunk."

I have allowed so much space to the foregoing documents, because they show the fancies which, fermenting in the public mind, and inflamed by the prevalent literature, theology, and philosophy, came to a head thirty years afterwards; and because they prove that in 1660 a conviction for witchcraft could not be obtained in this county. The evidence against none of the convicts in 1692, throwing out of view the statements and actings of the "afflicted children," was half so strong as that against Godfrey. Short work would have been made with him then.

I have given a lot of space to the previous documents because they highlight the ideas that were brewing in the public's mind, fueled by the popular literature, theology, and philosophy of the time, which came to a peak thirty years later. They also demonstrate that in 1660, a conviction for witchcraft could not be secured in this county. The evidence against none of the people convicted in 1692, aside from the claims and actions of the "afflicted children," was nearly as strong as that against Godfrey. He would have been dealt with quickly back then.

There is one particularly interesting item in Single[i.437]tary's deposition. It illustrates the value of good preaching. This young man, in his gloomy prison, and overwhelmed with the terrors of superstition, found consolation, courage, and strength in what he remembered of a sermon, to which he had happened to listen, from "Matchless Mitchel." It was indeed good doctrine; and it is to be lamented that it was not carried out to its logical conclusions, and constantly enforced by the divines of that and subsequent times.

There’s one particularly intriguing detail in Single[i.437]tary's deposition. It shows the importance of good preaching. This young man, stuck in his grim prison and weighed down by the fears of superstition, found comfort, courage, and strength in what he remembered from a sermon he had heard from "Matchless Mitchel." It was truly solid teaching; and it's unfortunate that it wasn't taken to its logical conclusions and consistently reinforced by the clergy of his time and beyond.

In November, 1669, there was a prosecution of "Goody Burt," a widow, concerning whom the most marvellous stories were told. The principal witness against her was Philip Reed, a physician, who on oath declared his belief that "no natural cause" could produce such effects as were wrought by Goody Burt upon persons whom she afflicted. Her range of operations seems to have been confined to Marblehead, Lynn, Salem, and the vicinity: as nothing more was ever heard of the case, another evidence is afforded, that an Essex jury, notwithstanding this positive opinion of a doctor, was not ready to convict on the charge of witchcraft. This same Philip Reed tried very hard to prosecute proceedings, eleven years afterwards, against Margaret Gifford as a witch. But she failed to appear, and no effort is recorded as having been made to apprehend her.

In November 1669, there was a trial of "Goody Burt," a widow, about whom incredible stories were told. The main witness against her was Philip Reed, a physician, who under oath stated his belief that "no natural cause" could explain the effects that Goody Burt had on the people she harmed. Her actions seemed to have been limited to Marblehead, Lynn, Salem, and the surrounding areas; since nothing more was ever mentioned about the case, this shows that an Essex jury, despite the strong opinion of a doctor, wasn’t ready to convict her of witchcraft. Eleven years later, this same Philip Reed made a strong effort to prosecute Margaret Gifford as a witch. However, she did not show up, and no attempts are recorded to capture her.

In 1673, Eunice Cole, of Hampton, was tried before a county court, at Salisbury, on the charge of witchcraft; and she was committed to jail, in Boston, for[i.438] further proceedings. She was subsequently indicted by the Grand Jury for the Massachusetts jurisdiction for "familiarity with the Devil." The Court of Assistants found that there was "just ground of vehement suspicion of her having had familiarity with the Devil," and got rid of the case by ordering her "to depart from and abide out of this jurisdiction."

In 1673, Eunice Cole from Hampton was tried in a county court in Salisbury on charges of witchcraft and was sent to jail in Boston for[i.438] further proceedings. She was later indicted by the Grand Jury for Massachusetts for "having familiarity with the Devil." The Court of Assistants determined that there was "just cause for strong suspicion" that she had been involved with the Devil and decided to close the case by ordering her "to leave and stay away from this jurisdiction."

At a County Court, held at Salem, Nov. 24, 1674, a case was brought up, of which the following is all we know:—

At a County Court held in Salem on November 24, 1674, a case was presented, of which the following is all we know:—

"Christopher Browne having reported that he had been treating or discoursing with one whom he apprehended to be the Devil, which came like a gentleman, in order to his binding himself to be a servant to him, upon his examination, his discourse seeming inconsistent with truth, &c., the Court, giving him good counsel and caution, for the present dismiss him."

"Christopher Browne reported that he had been interacting with someone he believed was the Devil, who approached him like a gentleman, in order to get him to become his servant. Upon examination, his statements seemed inconsistent with the truth. The Court provided him with good advice and caution, and decided to dismiss him for the time being."

It would have been well if the action of this Court had been followed as an authoritative precedent.

It would have been great if this Court's decision had been recognized as an official precedent.

In the year 1679, the house of William Morse, of Newbury, was, for more than two months, infested in a most strange and vexatious manner. The affair was brought into court, where it played a conspicuous part, and was near reaching a tragical conclusion. The history of the proceedings in reference to it is very curious.

In 1679, William Morse's house in Newbury was infested in a very strange and annoying way for over two months. The situation went to court, where it gained a lot of attention and almost ended in tragedy. The details of what happened in relation to this are quite interesting.

Mr. John Woodbridge, of Newbury, had been for some time an associate county judge, and was commissioned to administer oaths and join persons in marriage. The following is a record of what occurred[i.439] before him, sitting as a magistrate, and as a commissioner to adjudicate in small, local causes, and hold examinations in matters that went to higher courts:—

Mr. John Woodbridge of Newbury had been an associate county judge for some time and was authorized to administer oaths and officiate marriages. The following is a record of what took place[i.439] before him, acting as a magistrate and as a commissioner to settle small, local issues and conduct hearings in matters that would escalate to higher courts:—

"Dec. 3, 1679.—Caleb Powell, being complained of for suspicion of working with the Devil to the molesting of William Morse and his family, was by warrant directed to the constable brought in by him. The accusation and testimonies were read, and the complaint respited till the Monday following.

"Dec. 3, 1679.—Caleb Powell was accused of possibly working with the Devil to harm William Morse and his family, and he was brought in by the constable as instructed by a warrant. The accusations and testimonies were read, and the complaint was postponed until the following Monday."

"Dec. 8, 1679.—Caleb Powell appeared according to order, and further testimony produced against him by William Morse, which being read and considered, it was determined that the said William Morse should prosecute the case against said Powell at the County Court to be held at Ipswich the last Tuesday in March ensuing; and, in order hereunto, William Morse acknowledgeth himself indebted to the Treasurer of the County of Essex the full sum of twenty pounds. The condition of this obligation is, that the said William Morse shall prosecute his complaint against Caleb Powell at that Court.

Dec. 8, 1679.—Caleb Powell appeared as scheduled, and additional evidence against him was presented by William Morse. After reviewing this information, it was decided that William Morse would pursue the case against Powell at the County Court in Ipswich on the last Tuesday in March. To proceed with this, William Morse acknowledged he owes the Treasurer of Essex County a total of twenty pounds. This obligation is conditional upon William Morse officially filing his complaint against Caleb Powell at that Court.

"Caleb Powell was delivered as a prisoner to the constable till he could find security of twenty pounds for the answering of the said complaint, or else he was to be carried to prison.

Caleb Powell was taken into custody by the constable until he could secure twenty pounds to address the complaint, or else he would be sent to prison.

"Jo: Woodbridge, Commissioner."

"Jo: Woodbridge, Commissioner."

Powell was accordingly brought before the Court at Ipswich, March 30, 1680, under an indictment for witchcraft. Before giving the substance of the evidence adduced on this occasion, it will be well to mention the manner in which he got into the case as[i.440] a principal. He was a mate of a vessel. While at home, between voyages, he happened to hear of the wonderful occurrences at Mr. Morse's house. His curiosity was awakened, and he was also actuated by feelings of commiseration for the family under the torments and terrors with which they were said to be afflicted. Determined to see what it all meant, and to put a stop to it if he could, he went to the house, and soon became satisfied that a roguish grandchild was the cause of all the trouble. He prevailed upon the old grandparents to let him take off the boy. Immediately upon his removal, the difficulty ceased.

Powell was brought before the Court in Ipswich on March 30, 1680, facing charges of witchcraft. Before we get into the details of the evidence presented, it’s important to explain how he became a key figure in this case. He was a crew member of a ship. While home between voyages, he heard about the strange events happening at Mr. Morse's house. His curiosity was piqued, and he also felt sympathy for the family suffering from the torment and fears they were said to be experiencing. Wanting to understand what was going on and to put an end to it if possible, he visited the house and soon concluded that a mischievous grandchild was the source of the trouble. He convinced the grandparents to allow him to take the boy away. As soon as he removed the boy, the problems stopped.

New-England navigators, at that time and long afterwards, sailed almost wholly by the stars; and Powell probably had often related his own skill, which, as mate of a vessel, he would have been likely to acquire, in calculating his position, rate of sailing, and distances, on the boundless and trackless ocean, by his knowledge and observations of the heavenly bodies. He had said, perhaps, that, by gazing among the stars, he could, at any hour of the night, however long or far he had been tossed and driven on the ocean, tell exactly where his vessel was. Hence the charge of being an astrologist. Probably, like other sailors, Powell may have indulged in "long yarns" to the country people, of the wonders he had seen, "some in one country, and some in another." It is not unlikely, that, in foreign ports, he had witnessed exhibitions of necromancy and mesmerism, which, in various forms and under different names,[i.441] have always been practised. Possibly he may have boasted to be a medium himself, a scholar and adept in the mystic art, able to read and divine "the workings of spirits." At any rate, when it became known, that, at a glance, he attributed to the boy the cause of the mischief, and that it ceased on his taking him away from the house, the opinion became settled that he was a wizard. He was arrested forthwith, and brought to trial, as has been stated, for witchcraft. His astronomy, astrology, and spiritualism brought him in peril of his life.

New England sailors, back then and for a long time after, navigated mainly by the stars; and Powell likely shared stories of his own skills, which he would have picked up as a first mate on a ship, in figuring out his location, speed, and distances on the vast, uncharted ocean through his knowledge of the stars. He probably claimed that by looking at the stars, he could tell exactly where his ship was at any time of the night, no matter how far he'd been tossed around at sea. This led to the accusation of him being an astrologer. Like many sailors, Powell might have entertained local folks with "tall tales" about the amazing things he had seen, "some in one place, and some in another." It's likely that in foreign ports, he witnessed displays of magic and mind control that have always existed in different forms and under various names. He might have even claimed to be a medium, a scholar, and an expert in the mystical arts, able to interpret "the workings of spirits." At any rate, once it became known that he immediately blamed the boy for the trouble and that it stopped when he took him away from the house, people decided he was a wizard. He was quickly arrested and put on trial, as previously mentioned, for witchcraft. His knowledge of astronomy, astrology, and spiritualism put his life at risk.

"The Testimony of William Morse: which saith, together with his wife, aged both about sixty-five years: that, Thursday night, being the twenty-seventh day of November, we heard a great noise without, round the house, of knocking the boards of the house, and, as we conceived, throwing of stones against the house. Whereupon myself and wife looked out and saw nobody, and the boy all this time with us; but we had stones and sticks thrown at us, that we were forced to retire into the house again. Afterwards we went to bed, and the boy with us; and then the like noise was upon the roof of the house.

"The Testimony of William Morse: who states, along with his wife, both around sixty-five years old: that on Thursday night, the twenty-seventh of November, we heard a loud noise outside, around the house, like knocking on the boards, and what we thought was stones being thrown against the house. So my wife and I looked out but saw no one, and the boy was with us all this time; however, we had stones and sticks thrown at us, which forced us to retreat back inside the house. Afterward, we went to bed, with the boy still with us, and then we heard similar noises on the roof of the house."

"2. The same night about midnight, the door being locked when we went to bed, we heard a great hog in the house grunt and make a noise, as we thought willing to get out; and, that we might not be disturbed in our sleep, I rose to let him out, and I found a hog in the house and the door unlocked: the door was firmly locked when we went to bed.

"2. That same night around midnight, with the door locked when we went to bed, we heard a large pig in the house grunt and make noise, as if it wanted to get out. To avoid being disturbed in our sleep, I got up to let it out, and I found a pig in the house and the door unlocked; the door was securely locked when we went to bed."

"3. The next morning, a stick of links hanging in the chimney, they were thrown out of their place, and we[i.442] hanged them up again, and they were thrown down again, and some into the fire.

"3. The next morning, a bunch of sausages hanging in the chimney were knocked down, and we[i.442] hung them up again, but they got knocked down again, with some even landing in the fire."

"4. The night following, I had a great awl lying in the window, the which awl we saw fall down out of the chimney into the ashes by the fire.

"4. The night after, I had a big awl lying in the window, which we saw fall down from the chimney into the ashes by the fire."

"5. After this, I bid the boy put the same awl into the cupboard, which we saw done, and the door shut to: this same awl came presently down the chimney again in our sight, and I took it up myself. Again, the same night, we saw a little Indian basket, that was in the loft before, come down the chimney again. And I took the same basket, and put a piece of brick into it, and the basket with the brick was gone, and came down again the third time with the brick in it, and went up again the fourth time, and came down again without the brick; and the brick came down again a little after.

"5. After that, I told the boy to put the same awl into the cupboard, which we saw him do, and then the door was shut. Soon after, the same awl came back down the chimney right in front of us, and I picked it up myself. Later that same night, we saw a small Indian basket that had been in the loft come down the chimney again. I took the basket and put a piece of brick inside it, and the basket with the brick disappeared. It came down a third time with the brick in it, went back up a fourth time, and then came down again without the brick; shortly after, the brick came down on its own."

"6. The next day, being Saturday, stones, sticks, and pieces of bricks came down, so that we could not quietly dress our breakfast; and sticks of fire also came down at the same time.

"6. The next day, which was Saturday, stones, sticks, and pieces of bricks fell down, making it impossible for us to have a peaceful breakfast; and bits of fire rained down at the same time."

"7. That day in the afternoon, my thread four times taken away, and came down the chimney; again, my awl and gimlet, wanting, came down the chimney; again, my leather, taken away, came down the chimney; again, my nails, being in the cover of a firkin, taken away, came down the chimney. Again, the same night, the door being locked, a little before day, hearing a hog in the house, I rose, and saw the hog to be mine: I let him out.

"7. That afternoon, my thread was taken away four times and came down the chimney; once more, my awl and gimlet, which were missing, came down the chimney; again, my leather was taken and came down the chimney; again, my nails, which were in the lid of a firkin, were taken and came down the chimney. Later that same night, with the door locked, just before dawn, I heard a hog in the house, so I got up and saw that the hog was mine: I let him out."

"8. The next day being sabbath-day, many stones and sticks and pieces of bricks came down the chimney: on the Monday, Mr. Richardson and my brother being there, the frame of my cowhouse they saw very firm. I sent my boy[i.443] out to scare the fowls from my hog's meat: he went to the cowhouse, and it fell down, my boy crying with the hurt of the fall. In the afternoon, the pots hanging over the fire did dash so vehemently one against the other, we set down one that they might not dash to pieces. I saw the andiron leap into the pot, and dance and leap out, and again leap in and dance and leap out again, and leap on a table and there abide, and my wife saw the andiron on the table: also I saw the pot turn itself over, and throw down all the water. Again, we saw a tray with wool leap up and down, and throw the wool out, and so many times, and saw nobody meddle with it. Again, a tub his hoop fly off of itself and the tub turn over, and nobody near it. Again, the woollen wheel turned upside down, and stood up on its end, and a spade set on it; Steph. Greenleafe saw it, and myself and my wife. Again, my rope-tools fell down upon the ground before my boy could take them, being sent for them; and the same thing of nails tumbled down from the loft into the ground, and nobody near. Again, my wife and boy making the bed, the chest did open and shut: the bed-clothes could not be made to lie on the bed, but fly off again.

"8. The next day was the Sabbath, and a bunch of stones, sticks, and chunks of bricks fell down the chimney. On Monday, Mr. Richardson and my brother were there, and they saw that the frame of my cowhouse was very solid. I sent my boy[i.443] to scare the chickens away from my hog's food: he went to the cowhouse, and it collapsed, causing my boy to cry from the fall. In the afternoon, the pots hanging over the fire clashed so violently against each other that we set one down to prevent them from breaking. I saw the andiron jump into the pot, dance around, then jump out again, only to leap back in and dance some more, then land on a table and stay there, and my wife saw the andiron on the table. I also saw the pot turn over and spill all its water. Again, we saw a tray with wool bouncing up and down, throwing the wool out repeatedly, with no one touching it. Next, we saw a tub where its hoop flew off by itself and the tub flipped over, with nobody around. Then the wool wheel turned upside down and stood on its end, with a spade balancing on it; Steph. Greenleafe witnessed this, along with my wife and me. Once more, my rope tools fell to the ground before my boy could reach them, even though he had been sent to get them; and nails fell from the loft to the ground, with no one near. Finally, when my wife and boy were making the bed, the chest opened and shut by itself, and the bedclothes wouldn’t stay on the bed, flying off instead."

"Again, Caleb Powell came in, and, being affected to see our trouble, did promise me and my wife, that, if we would be willing to let him keep the boy, we should see ourselves that we should be never disturbed while he was gone with him: he had the boy, and had been quiet ever since.

"Once again, Caleb Powell came in and, feeling moved by our situation, promised my wife and me that if we agreed to let him keep the boy, we would not be disturbed while he was away with him: he took the boy and has been quiet ever since."

"Tho. Rogers and George Hardy, being at William Morse his house, affirm that the earth in the chimney-corner moved, and scattered on them; that Tho. Rogers was hit with somewhat, Hardy with an iron ladle as is supposed. Somewhat hit William Morse a great blow, but it was so swift that they could not certainly tell what it was; but,[i.444] looking down after they heard the noise, they saw a shoe. The boy was in the corner at the first, afterwards in the house.

"Tho. Rogers and George Hardy, while at William Morse's house, claimed that the earth in the chimney corner moved and fell on them; that Tho. Rogers was struck by something, and Hardy was hit with an iron ladle, or so it's believed. Something struck William Morse with a great force, but it was so quick that they couldn't clearly identify what it was; however, [i.444] when they looked down after hearing the noise, they saw a shoe. The boy was initially in the corner and then later in the house."

"Mr. Richardson on Saturday testifieth that a board flew against his chair, and he heard a noise in another room, which he supposed in all reason to be diabolical.

"Mr. Richardson testified on Saturday that a board flew against his chair, and he heard a noise coming from another room, which he logically assumed was evil."

"John Dole saw a pine stick of candlewood to fall down, a stone, a firebrand; and these things he saw not what way they came, till they fell down by him.

"John Dole saw a pine stick of candlewood fall, along with a stone and a burning log; he didn’t notice where they came from until they landed next to him."

"The same affirmed by John Tucker: the boy was in one corner, whom they saw and observed all the while, and saw no motion in him.

"The same was confirmed by John Tucker: the boy was in one corner, and they saw and watched him the whole time, noticing that he showed no movement."

"Elizabeth Titcomb affirmeth that Powell said that he could find the witch by his learning, if he had another scholar with him: this she saith were his expressions, to the best of her memory.

"Elizabeth Titcomb claims that Powell said he could find the witch using his knowledge, if he had another student with him: this is what she remembers him saying."

"Jo. Tucker affirmeth that Powell said to him, he saw the boy throw the shoe while he was at prayer.

"Jo. Tucker claims that Powell told him he saw the boy throw the shoe while he was praying."

"Jo. Emerson affirmeth that Powell said he was brought up under Norwood; and it was judged by the people there, that Norwood studied the black art.

"Jo. Emerson states that Powell mentioned he was raised under Norwood; and the people there believed that Norwood practiced dark magic."

"A further Testimony of William Morse and his Wife.—We saw a keeler of bread turn over against me, and struck me, not any being near it, and so overturned. I saw a chair standing in the house, and not anybody near: it did often bow towards me, and so rise up again. My wife also being in the chamber, the chamber-door did violently fly together, not anybody being near it. My wife, going to make a bed, it did move to and fro, not anybody being near it. I also saw an iron wedge and spade was flying out of the chamber on my wife, and did not strike her. My wife going into the cellar, a drum, standing in the house, did roll[i.445] over the door of the cellar; and, being taken up again, the door did violently fly down again. My barn-doors four times unpinned, I know not how. I, going to shut my barn-door, looking for the pin,—the boy being with me, as I did judge,—the pin, coming down out of the air, did fall down near to me. Again, Caleb Powell came in, as beforesaid, and, seeing our spirits very low by the sense of our great affliction, began to bemoan our condition, and said that he was troubled for our afflictions, and said that he had eyed this boy, and drawed near to us with great compassion: 'Poor old man, poor old woman! this boy is the occasion of your grief; for he hath done these things, and hath caused his good old grandmother to be counted a witch.' 'Then,' said I, 'how can all these things be done by him?' Said he, 'Although he may not have done all, yet most of them; for this boy is a young rogue, a vile rogue: I have watched him, and see him do things as to come up and down.' Caleb Powell also said he had understanding in astrology and astronomy, and knew the working of spirits, some in one country, and some in another; and, looking on the boy, said, 'You young rogue, to begin so soon. Goodman Morse, if you be willing to let me have this boy, I will undertake you shall be free from any trouble of this kind while he is with me.' I was very unwilling at the first, and my wife; but, by often urging me, till he told me whither, and what employment and company, he should go, I did consent to it, and this was before Jo. Badger came; and we have been freed from any trouble of this kind ever since that promise, made on Monday night last, to this time, being Friday in the afternoon. Then we heard a great noise in the other room, oftentimes, but, looking after it, could not see any thing; but, afterwards looking into the room, we saw a board hanged to the press. Then[i.446] we, being by the fire, sitting in a chair, my chair often would not stand still, but ready to throw me backward oftentimes. Afterward, my cap almost taken off my head three times. Again, a great blow on my poll, and my cat did leap from me into the chimney corner. Presently after, this cat was thrown at my wife. We saw the cat to be ours: we put her out of the house, and shut the door. Presently, the cat was throwed into the house. We went to go to bed. Suddenly,—my wife being with me in bed, the lamp-light by our side,—my cat again throwed at us five times, jumping away presently into the floor; and, one of those times, a red waistcoat throwed on the bed, and the cat wrapped up in it. Again, the lamp, standing by us on the chest, we said it should stand and burn out; but presently was beaten down, and all the oil shed, and we left in the dark. Again, a great voice, a great while, very dreadful. Again, in the morning, a great stone, being six-pound weight, did remove from place to place,—we saw it,—two spoons throwed off the table, and presently the table throwed down. And, being minded to write, my inkhorn was hid from me, which I found, covered with a rag, and my pen quite gone. I made a new pen; and, while I was writing, one ear of corn hit me in the face, and fire, sticks, and stones throwed at me, and my pen brought to me. While I was writing with my new pen, my inkhorn taken away: and, not knowing how to write any more, we looked under the table, and there found him; and so I was able to write again. Again, my wife her hat taken from her head, sitting by the fire by me, the table almost thrown down. Again, my spectacles thrown from the table, and thrown almost into the fire by me, and my wife and the boy. Again, my book of all my accounts thrown into the fire, and had been burnt presently, if I had not taken it up. Again,[i.447] boards taken off a tub, and set upright by themselves; and my paper, do what I could, hardly keep it while I was writing this relation, and things thrown at me while a-writing. Presently, before I could dry my writing, a mormouth hat rubbed along it; but I held so fast that it did blot but some of it. My wife and I, being much afraid that I should not preserve it for public use, did think best to lay it in the Bible, and it lay safe that night. Again, the next, I would lay it there again; but, in the morning, it was not there to be found, the bag hanged down empty; but, after, was found in a box alone. Again, while I was writing this morning, I was forced to forbear writing any more, I was so disturbed with so many things constantly thrown at me.

Another Testimony from William Morse and his Wife.—I saw a loaf of bread flip over and hit me, even though no one was near it. I also noticed a chair in the house that would often bow towards me and then rise back up, with no one around. My wife was in the bedroom when the door slammed shut by itself, again with no one near it. When she went to make a bed, it moved back and forth without anyone touching it. I saw an iron wedge and a spade fly out of the bedroom at my wife, but they didn't hit her. When my wife went into the cellar, a drum in the house rolled over to the cellar door; after we picked it up again, the door forcefully slammed shut. My barn doors unlatched by themselves four times, and once, when I was getting ready to shut one of the barn doors, the pin fell down from the air near me. Then Caleb Powell came in as before, and seeing that our spirits were low due to our troubles, he expressed his sadness for our situation. He said he had been observing this boy, who seemed to be the source of our grief, as he had caused his good old grandmother to be accused of witchcraft. I asked him how this boy could be responsible for all these events, and he replied that while the boy might not have done everything, he was involved in most of it; he called the boy a young rascal. Caleb claimed to have knowledge in astrology and spirits, and looking at the boy remarked, "You young troublemaker, getting into things early. Goodman Morse, if you're willing to let me take this boy, I promise you won’t have any more trouble with him while he's with me." I was hesitant at first, as was my wife, but after he explained where he would take him and what he would do with him, I agreed. This was before Jo. Badger arrived, and ever since that promise, which was made last Monday night, we haven't had any more troubles. Then, we heard a loud noise in the other room several times, but when we looked, we couldn't see anything. However, later, we saw a board stuck to the cupboard. While we were by the fire, my chair kept trying to throw me backward. After that, my cap was almost lifted off my head three times. I felt a strong blow on my head, and my cat jumped from me to the chimney corner. Shortly after, this cat was thrown at my wife. We recognized her as ours, so we put her outside and closed the door, but soon the cat was thrown back into the house. We went to bed, and suddenly, with my wife beside me and the lamp light next to us, the cat was thrown at us five times, jumping back to the floor each time. One of those times, a red waistcoat landed on the bed with the cat wrapped in it. Again, our lamp, which we planned to let burn out, was knocked down, spilling oil everywhere, leaving us in the dark. Then, we heard a terrifying loud voice for a long time. The next morning, we saw a six-pound stone move from one spot to another and two spoons fly off the table, followed quickly by the table itself being upset. As I was about to write, I found my inkhorn hidden, covered with a rag, and my pen completely gone. I made a new pen, but while writing, an ear of corn hit me in the face, along with fire, sticks, and stones being thrown at me, while my pen was brought back to me. While using my new pen, my inkhorn was taken away, and unsure of how to continue writing, I looked under the table and found it there, allowing me to write again. My wife had her hat snatched off her head while sitting by the fire with me, and the table almost tipped over. Then, my glasses were thrown off the table, nearly into the fire, along with my wife and the boy. My account book was also thrown into the fire and would have been burned if I hadn’t grabbed it. Again, boards were removed from a tub and stood upright on their own, and despite my efforts, I struggled to keep my paper while writing this account, as things were thrown at me. Before I could dry my writing, a hat slid across it, but I held on tight enough that it only smudged a little. My wife and I feared I wouldn’t be able to keep it safe for public use, so we decided to place it in the Bible, where it stayed safe that night. The next day, I tried to lay it there again, but in the morning, it was missing; the bag was hanging down empty, but later, it was found alone in a box. Again, while writing that morning, I had to stop because I was so disturbed by all the things constantly being thrown at me.

"This relation brought in Dec. 8.

"This relation brought in Dec. 8."

"I, Anthony Morse, occasionally being at my brother Morse's house, my brother showed me a piece of a brick which had several times come down the chimney. I sitting in the corner, I took the piece of brick in my hand. Within a little space of time, the piece of brick was gone from me, I knew not by what means. Quickly after, the piece of brick came down the chimney. Also, in the chimney-corner I saw a hammer on the ground: there being no person near the hammer, it was suddenly gone, by what means I know not. But, within a little space after, the hammer came down the chimney. And, within a little space of time after that, came a piece of wood down the chimney, about a foot long; and, within a little after that, came down a firebrand, the fire being out. This was about ten days ago.

"I, Anthony Morse, was at my brother Morse's house when he showed me a piece of brick that had fallen down the chimney several times. I was sitting in the corner, and I picked up the piece of brick. Before I knew it, the brick disappeared from my hand, and I couldn't figure out how it happened. Shortly after, the piece of brick came down the chimney again. I also noticed a hammer on the ground by the chimney, and since there was no one else around, it suddenly vanished, though I couldn’t tell how. A little while later, the hammer came down the chimney too. Then, shortly after that, a piece of wood, about a foot long, fell down the chimney. Finally, shortly after that, a firebrand came down, with the fire being out. This happened about ten days ago."

"John Badger affirmeth, that, being at William Morse his house, and heard Caleb Powell say that he thought by astrology, and I think he said by astronomy too, with it, he could find out whether or no there were diabolical means[i.448] used about the said Morse his trouble, and that the said Caleb said he thought to try to find it out.

"John Badger states that when he was at William Morse's house, he heard Caleb Powell say that he believed he could determine through astrology—and he also mentioned astronomy—whether any evil means were being used regarding Morse's troubles, and that Caleb intended to try to figure it out."

"The Deposition of Mary Tucker, aged about twenty.—She remembered that Caleb Powell came into her house, and said to this purpose: That he, coming to William Morse his house, and the old man, being at prayer, he thought not fit to go in, but looked in at the window; and he said he had broken the enchantment; for he saw the boy play tricks while he was at prayer, and mentioned some, and, among the rest, that he saw him to fling the shoe at the said Morse's head.

The Testimony of Mary Tucker, around twenty years old.—She recalled that Caleb Powell came into her house and said something along these lines: He went to William Morse's house, and since the old man was praying, he thought it was inappropriate to go inside, so he looked in through the window. He claimed he had broken the spell because he saw the boy messing around while the man was praying, and he mentioned a few things, including that he saw the boy throw a shoe at Morse's head.

"Taken on oath, March 29, 1680, before me,

"Sworn on March 29, 1680, in front of me,"

"Jo: Woodbridge, Commissioner.

"Jo: Woodbridge, Commissioner."

"Mary Richardson confirmed the truth of the above written testimony, on oath, at the same time."

"Mary Richardson confirmed the truth of the testimony written above, under oath, at the same time."

There seem to have been several hearings before Commissioner Woodbridge. The boy had returned to his grandparents before the last deposition of William Morse, and his audacious operations were persisted in to the last. The final decision of the Court was as follows:—

There appeared to be several hearings before Commissioner Woodbridge. The boy had gone back to his grandparents before William Morse's last deposition, and he continued his bold actions until the end. The final decision of the Court was as follows:—

"Upon the hearing the complaint brought to this Court against Caleb Powell for suspicion of working by the Devil to the molesting of the family of William Morse of Newbury, though this court cannot find any evident ground of proceeding further against the said Caleb Powell, yet we determine that he hath given such ground of suspicion of his so dealing that we cannot so acquit him, but that he justly deserves to bear his own share and the costs of the prosecution of the complaint.

"After hearing the complaint brought to this Court against Caleb Powell for the suspicion of working with the Devil to harm the family of William Morse of Newbury, although this court cannot find any solid evidence to proceed further against Caleb Powell, we conclude that he has provided enough reason for suspicion regarding his actions that we cannot fully clear him. Therefore, he deserves to bear his share of the costs associated with the prosecution of the complaint."

"Referred to Mr. Woodbridge to examine and determine the charges."

"Sent to Mr. Woodbridge to review and decide on the charges."

The entry of this sentence, in the records of the County Court, is as follows; the clerk strangely mistaking the name of the party:—

The entry of this sentence in the County Court records is as follows; the clerk mistakenly wrote the wrong name for the party:—

"The Court held at Ipswich, the 30th of March, 1680.

"The Court was held in Ipswich on March 30, 1680."

"In the case of Abell Powell, though the Court do not see sufficient to charge further, yet find so much suspicion as that he pay the charges. The ordering of the charges left to Mr. Jo: Woodbridge."

"In the case of Abell Powell, although the Court doesn't see enough evidence to press further charges, they do find enough suspicion that he should cover the costs. The arrangement of the charges is left to Mr. Jo: Woodbridge."

The matter of Powell's connection with the affair being thus disposed of, and no one seeming to entertain his idea of the guilt of the boy, the next step was to fasten suspicion upon the good old grandmother; and a general outcry was raised against her. Her arrest and condemnation were clamored for. But the result of Powell's trial, and all preceding cases, showed that an Essex jury could not yet be relied on for a conviction in witchcraft cases; and it was resolved to institute proceedings in a more favorable quarter. The Grand Jury returned a bill of indictment against her to the Court of Assistants, sitting in Boston. This was the highest tribunal in the country, subject only to the General Court, and embracing the whole colony in its jurisdiction. The following is the substance of the record of the case:—

The issue of Powell’s involvement in the affair being resolved, and no one seeming to support his claim that the boy was guilty, the next step was to direct suspicion toward the elderly grandmother. There was a loud outcry for her arrest and condemnation. However, the results of Powell’s trial, along with previous cases, showed that an Essex jury could not yet be trusted to convict in witchcraft cases, so it was decided to take action in a more favorable venue. The Grand Jury issued an indictment against her to the Court of Assistants, which was based in Boston. This was the highest court in the country, second only to the General Court, and had jurisdiction over the entire colony. Here is a summary of the case record:—

At a Court of Assistants, on adjournment, held at Boston, on the 20th of May, 1680.

At a Court of Assistants, during a break, held in Boston on May 20, 1680.

The Grand Jury having presented Elizabeth Morse, wife of William Morse, she was tried and convicted of the crime of witchcraft. The Governor, on the 27th[i.450] of May, "after the lecture," in the First Church of Boston, pronounced the sentence of death upon her. On the 1st of June, the Governor and Assistants voted to reprieve her "until the next session of the Court in Boston." At the said next session, the reprieval was still further continued. This seems to have produced much dissatisfaction, as is shown by the following extract from the records of the House of Deputies:—

The Grand Jury charged Elizabeth Morse, wife of William Morse, with witchcraft. The Governor, on the 27th[i.450] of May, "after the sermon," in the First Church of Boston, sentenced her to death. On June 1st, the Governor and Assistants decided to delay her execution "until the next session of the Court in Boston." During that next session, her reprieve was extended again. This seems to have caused significant discontent, as indicated by the following excerpt from the records of the House of Deputies:—

"The Deputies, on perusal of the Acts of the Honored Court of Assistants, relating to the woman condemned for witchcraft, do not understand the reason why the sentence, given against her by said Court, is not executed: and the second reprieval seems to us beyond what the law will allow, and do therefore judge meet to declare ourselves against it, with reference to the concurrence of the honored magistrates hereto.

"The Deputies, upon reviewing the decisions of the Honored Court of Assistants regarding the woman sentenced for witchcraft, do not understand why her sentence, imposed by that Court, is not being carried out. The second postponement seems to us to exceed what the law permits, so we feel it is appropriate to express our opposition to it, in reference to the agreement of the honored magistrates on this matter."

William Torrey, Clerk."

William Torrey, Clerk.

The action of the magistrates, on this reference, is recorded as follows:—

The magistrates' action regarding this reference is documented as follows:—

"3d of November, 1680.—Not consented to by magistrates.

"November 3, 1680.—Not approved by the authorities."

Edward Rawson, Secretary."

Edward Rawson, Secretary.

The evidence against Mrs. Morse was frivolous to the last degree, without any of the force and effect given to support the prosecutions in Salem, twelve years afterwards, by the astounding confessions of the accused, and the splendid acting of the "afflicted children;" yet she was tried and condemned in Boston, and sentenced there on "Lecture-day." The representatives of the people, in the House of Deputies, cried out against her reprieve. She was saved[i.451] by the courage and wisdom of Governor Bradstreet, subsequently a resident of Salem, where his ashes rest. He was living here, at the age of ninety years, during the witchcraft prosecutions in 1692; but, old as he was, he made known his entire disapprobation of them. It is safe to say, that, if he had not been superseded by the arrival of Sir William Phipps as governor under the new charter, they would never have taken place. Notwithstanding all this,—in spite of the remonstrances, at the time, of Brattle, and afterwards of Hutchinson,—Boston and other towns (earlier, if not equally, committed to such proceedings) have, by a sort of general conspiracy, joined the rest of the world in trying to throw and fasten the whole responsibility and disgrace of witchcraft prosecutions upon Salem.

The evidence against Mrs. Morse was completely trivial, lacking any of the power and impact that supported the prosecutions in Salem twelve years later, driven by the shocking confessions of the accused and the impressive performances of the "afflicted children;" yet she was tried and convicted in Boston, sentenced on "Lecture-day." The representatives of the people in the House of Deputies demanded her execution. She was saved[i.451] by the courage and wisdom of Governor Bradstreet, who later lived in Salem, where he is now buried. He was living there at ninety years old during the witch trials of 1692; despite his age, he openly opposed them. It's safe to say that if he hadn’t been replaced by Sir William Phipps, who came as governor with the new charter, those trials would never have happened. Regardless of this—despite the protests from Brattle at the time and later from Hutchinson—Boston and other towns (which were committed to these actions earlier, if not as much) have, in a kind of general conspiracy, tried to place all the blame and shame for the witchcraft prosecutions squarely on Salem.

Things continued in the condition just described,—Mrs. Morse in jail under sentence of death; that sentence suspended by reprieves from the Governor, from time to time, until the next year, when her husband, in her behalf and in her name, presented an earnest and touching petition "to the honored Governor, Deputy-governor, Magistrates, and Deputies now assembled in Court, May the 18th, 1681," that her case might be concluded, one way or another. After referring to her condemnation, and to her attestation of innocence, she says, "By the mercy of God, and the goodness of the honored Governor, I am reprieved." She begs the Court to "hearken to her cry, a poor prisoner." She places herself at the foot of the tribunal[i.452] of the General Court: "I now stand humbly praying your justice in hearing my case, and to determine therein as the Lord shall direct. I do not understand law, nor do I know how to lay my case before you as I ought; for want of which I humbly beg of your honors that my request may not be rejected." The House of Deputies, on the 24th of May, voted to give her a new trial. But the magistrates refused to concur in the vote; and so the matter stood, for how long a time there are, I believe, no means of knowing. Finally, however, she was released from prison, and allowed to return to her own house. This we learn from a publication made by Mr. Hale, of Beverly, in 1697. It seems, that, after getting her out of prison and restored to her home, to use Mr. Hale's words, "her husband, who was esteemed a sincere and understanding Christian by those that knew him, desired some neighbor ministers, of whom I was one, to discourse his wife, which we did; and her discourse was very Christian, and still pleaded her innocence as to that which was laid to her charge." From Mr. Hale's language, it may be inferred that she had not been pardoned or discharged, but still lay under sentence of death, after her removal to her own house: for he and his brethren did not "esteem it prudence to pass any definite sentence upon one under her circumstances;" but they ventured to say that they were "inclined to the more charitable side." Mr. Hale states, that, "in her last sickness, she was in much trouble and darkness of spirit, which occasioned a[i.453] judicious friend to examine her strictly, whether she had been guilty of witchcraft; but she said no, but the ground of her trouble was some impatient and passionate speeches and actions of hers while in prison, upon the account of her suffering wrongfully, whereby she had provoked the Lord by putting contempt upon his Word. And, in fine, she sought her pardon and comfort from God in Christ; and died, so far as I understand, praying to and relying upon God in Christ for salvation."

Things went on as described—Mrs. Morse was in jail, facing the death penalty; that sentence was delayed by the Governor's reprieves from time to time, until the following year when her husband, on her behalf, submitted a heartfelt petition "to the honored Governor, Deputy-governor, Magistrates, and Deputies now assembled in Court, May the 18th, 1681," requesting that her case be resolved one way or another. After mentioning her condemnation and asserting her innocence, she says, "By the mercy of God, and the goodness of the honored Governor, I am reprieved." She asks the Court to "listen to her plea, a poor prisoner." She places herself at the feet of the tribunal[i.452] of the General Court: "I now humbly pray for your justice in hearing my case, and for a determination as the Lord shall direct. I don’t understand the law, nor do I know how to present my case correctly; for lack of this, I humbly ask that my request not be dismissed." The House of Deputies voted on May 24th to give her a new trial. However, the magistrates refused to agree to the vote; and so the situation remained, though it's unclear for how long. Eventually, she was released from prison and allowed to go back home. We learn this from a publication by Mr. Hale of Beverly in 1697. After her release and return home, in Mr. Hale's words, "her husband, who was regarded as a sincere and understanding Christian by those who knew him, asked some nearby ministers, of whom I was one, to talk with his wife, which we did; and her discussion was very Christian, still claiming her innocence regarding the accusations against her." From Mr. Hale's wording, it can be inferred that she had not been pardoned or discharged but was still under a death sentence after returning home: for he and his colleagues deemed it "unwise to pass any definite sentence upon someone in her circumstances;" yet they were "inclined to the more charitable side." Mr. Hale mentions that during her final illness, she experienced a lot of emotional turmoil and darkness of spirit, which led a[i.453] careful friend to closely question her about whether she had committed witchcraft; but she replied no, explaining that her distress stemmed from some impatient and passionate words and actions during her imprisonment due to her wrongful suffering, which had angered the Lord by showing contempt for His Word. Ultimately, she sought forgiveness and comfort from God through Christ; and she died, as far as I understand, praying to and relying on God in Christ for salvation.

The cases of Margaret Jones, Ann Hibbins, and Elizabeth Morse illustrate strikingly and fully the history and condition of the public mind in New England, and the world over, in reference to witchcraft in the seventeenth century. They show that there was nothing unprecedented, unusual, or eminently shocking, after all, in what I am about to relate as occurring in Salem, in 1692. The only real offence proved upon Margaret Jones was that she was a successful practitioner of medicine, using only simple remedies. Ann Hibbins was the victim of the slanderous gossip of a prejudiced neighborhood; all our actual knowledge of her being her Will, which proves that she was a person of much more than ordinary dignity of mind, which was kept unruffled and serene in the bitterest trials and most outrageous wrongs which it is possible for folly and "man's inhumanity to man" to bring upon us in this life. Elizabeth Morse appears to have been one of the best of Christian women. The accusations against them, as a whole, cover nearly the[i.454] whole ground upon which the subsequent prosecutions in Salem rested. John Winthrop passed sentence upon Margaret Jones, John Endicott upon Ann Hibbins, and Simon Bradstreet upon Elizabeth Morse. The last-named governor performed the office as an unavoidable act of official duty, and prevented the execution of the sentence by the courageous use of his prerogative, in defiance of public clamor and the wrath of the representatives of the whole people of the colony. These facts sufficiently show, that the proceedings afterwards had in Salem accorded with those in like cases, of that and preceding generations; and were sanctioned by the all but universal sentiments of mankind and a uniform chain of precedents.

The cases of Margaret Jones, Ann Hibbins, and Elizabeth Morse clearly show the mindset of the public in New England and beyond regarding witchcraft in the seventeenth century. They reveal that what happened in Salem in 1692 was not unexpected, unusual, or particularly shocking. The only real charge against Margaret Jones was that she was a skilled healer, using only simple remedies. Ann Hibbins fell victim to the malicious gossip of a biased community; our only concrete knowledge of her is her will, which demonstrates that she had a dignity of mind far beyond the ordinary, remaining calm and composed in the face of severe trials and the worst injustices that foolishness and "man's inhumanity to man" can bring. Elizabeth Morse seems to have been one of the best Christian women. The accusations against them cover almost the[i.454] entire foundation for the later prosecutions in Salem. John Winthrop sentenced Margaret Jones, John Endicott sentenced Ann Hibbins, and Simon Bradstreet sentenced Elizabeth Morse. The last governor carried out his duty as an unavoidable official responsibility and halted the execution of the sentence by bravely using his authority, despite public outcry and the anger of the colony's representatives. These facts clearly indicate that the proceedings in Salem followed the same patterns seen in similar cases from that time and earlier, and were supported by nearly universal sentiments of the people and a consistent chain of precedents.

The trial of Bridget Bishop, in 1680, before the County Court at Salem, for witchcraft, and her acquittal, have already been mentioned in the account of Salem Village, in the First Part.

The trial of Bridget Bishop in 1680, held before the County Court at Salem for witchcraft, and her acquittal, have already been discussed in the account of Salem Village, in the First Part.

In 1688, an Irish woman, named Glover, was executed in Boston for bewitching four children belonging to the family of a Mr. Goodwin. She was a Roman Catholic, represented to have been quite an ignorant person, and seems, moreover, from the accounts given of her, to have been crazy. The oldest of the children was only about thirteen years of age. The most experienced physicians pronounced them bewitched. Their conduct, as it is related by Cotton Mather, was indeed very extraordinary. At one time they would bark like dogs, and then again they would purr like[i.455] cats. "Yea," says he, "they would fly like geese, and be carried with an incredible swiftness, having but just their toes now and then upon the ground, sometimes not once in twenty feet, and their arms waved like the wings of a bird."

In 1688, an Irish woman named Glover was executed in Boston for allegedly bewitching four children from the Goodwin family. She was a Roman Catholic and portrayed as quite ignorant, and from various accounts, she also seemed to be insane. The oldest of the children was only around thirteen. The most experienced doctors declared that they were bewitched. Their behavior, as described by Cotton Mather, was indeed very strange. At times, they would bark like dogs, and then they would purr like cats. "Yes," he says, "they would fly like geese, moving with incredible speed, barely touching the ground, sometimes not even once every twenty feet, and their arms would wave like the wings of a bird."

One of the children seems to have had a genius scarcely inferior to that of Master Burke himself: there was no part nor passion she could not enact. She would complain that the old Irish woman had tied an invisible noose round her neck, and was choking her; and her complexion and features would instantly assume the various hues and violent distortions natural to a person in such a predicament. She would declare that an invisible chain was fastened to one of her limbs, and would limp about precisely as though it were really the case. She would say that she was in an oven; the perspiration would drop from her face, and she would exhibit every appearance of being roasted: then she would cry out that cold water was thrown upon her, and her whole frame would shiver and shake. She pretended that the evil spirit came to her in the shape of an invisible horse; and she would canter, gallop, trot, and amble round the rooms and entries in such admirable imitation, that an observer could hardly believe that a horse was not beneath her, and bearing her about. She would go up stairs with exactly such a toss and bound as a person on horseback would exhibit.

One of the kids seemed to have a talent almost as great as that of Master Burke himself: there was no role or emotion she couldn’t act out. She would complain that the old Irish woman had tied an invisible noose around her neck, choking her; and her skin tone and facial expressions would instantly change to reflect the various colors and intense distortions typical for someone in that situation. She would claim that an invisible chain was attached to one of her limbs and would limp around as if that were really true. She would say she was in an oven; sweat would drip from her face, and she would show every sign of being roasted. Then she would shout that cold water was thrown on her, and her whole body would shiver and shake. She pretended that an evil spirit came to her in the form of an invisible horse; and she would canter, gallop, trot, and amble around the rooms and hallways with such amazing imitation that anyone watching could hardly believe there wasn’t a horse underneath her, carrying her along. She would go up the stairs with exactly the same lively toss and jump as someone riding a horse would show.

After some time, Cotton Mather took her into his own family, to see whether he could not exorcise her.[i.456] His account of her conduct, while there, is highly amusing for its credulous simplicity. The cunning and ingenious child seems to have taken great delight in perplexing and playing off her tricks upon the learned man. Once he wished to say something in her presence, to a third person, which he did not intend she should understand. He accordingly spoke in Latin. But she had penetration enough to conjecture what he had said: he was amazed. He then tried Greek: she was equally successful. He next spoke in Hebrew: she instantly detected the meaning. At last he resorted to the Indian language, and that she pretended not to know. He drew the conclusion that the evil being with whom she was in compact was acquainted familiarly with the Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, but not with the Indian tongue.

After a while, Cotton Mather brought her into his home to see if he could drive out her demons.[i.456] His description of her behavior during that time is quite entertaining for its naive gullibility. The clever and crafty girl seemed to enjoy confusing him and playing tricks on the learned man. Once, he wanted to say something in her presence to a third person that he didn't want her to understand. So, he spoke in Latin. But she was sharp enough to guess what he had said, which left him stunned. He then tried Greek; she figured that out too. Next, he spoke in Hebrew: she immediately caught the meaning. Finally, he turned to the Indian language, and she pretended not to understand it. He concluded that the evil spirit she was in league with knew Latin, Greek, and Hebrew but not the Indian language.

It is curious to notice how adroitly she fell into the line of his prejudices. He handed her a book written by a Quaker, to which sect it is well known he was violently opposed: she would read it off with great ease, rapidity, and pleasure. A book written against the Quakers she could not read at all. She could read Popish books, but could not decipher a syllable of the Assembly's Catechism. Dr. Mather was earnestly opposed to the order and liturgy of the Church of England. The artful little girl worked with great success upon this prejudice. She pretended to be very fond of the Book of Common Prayer, and called it her Bible. It would relieve her of her sufferings, in a moment, to put it into her hands. While she could[i.457] not read a word of the Scriptures in the Bible, she could read them very easily in the Prayer-book; but she could not read the Lord's Prayer even in this her favorite volume. All these things went far to strengthen the conviction of Dr. Mather that she was in league with the Devil; for this was the only explanation that could be given to satisfy his mind of her partiality to the productions of Quakers, Catholics, and Episcopalians, and her aversion to the Bible and the Catechism.

It's interesting to see how skillfully she fell into line with his biases. He gave her a book written by a Quaker, a group he was notoriously opposed to, yet she read it effortlessly, quickly, and with enjoyment. On the other hand, she couldn't read a book that criticized the Quakers at all. She could read Catholic books but couldn’t decipher a single word of the Assembly's Catechism. Dr. Mather was strongly against the order and practices of the Church of England. The clever little girl played this bias to her advantage. She pretended to be very fond of the Book of Common Prayer, even calling it her Bible. Just putting it in her hands would instantly ease her suffering. Although she couldn't read a word of the Scriptures in the Bible, she could easily read them in the Prayer-book; however, she couldn't even read the Lord's Prayer in her favorite book. All these factors led Dr. Mather to be more convinced that she was in cahoots with the Devil; it was the only way he could rationalize her preference for the works of Quakers, Catholics, and Episcopalians, along with her dislike for the Bible and the Catechism.

She exhibited the most exquisite ingenuity in beguiling Dr. Mather by the force of a charm, the power of which he could not resist for a moment,—flattery. He thus describes, with a complacency but thinly concealed under the veil of affected modesty, the part she played, in order to give the impression—which it was the great object of his ambition to make upon the public mind—that the Devil stood in special fear of his presence:—

She showed the most amazing creativity in winning over Dr. Mather with a charm he couldn't resist for even a moment—flattery. He describes, with a satisfaction that barely hides itself behind a facade of false modesty, the role she played to create the impression—which was his main goal to establish in the public eye—that the Devil was especially afraid of him:—

"There then stood open the study of one belonging to the family, into which, entering, she stood immediately on her feet, and cried out, 'They are gone! they are gone! They say that they cannot,—God won't let 'em come here!' adding a reason for it which the owner of the study thought more kind than true; and she presently and perfectly came to herself, so that her whole discourse and carriage was altered into the greatest measure of sobriety."

"There was the study of a family member, and as she entered, she quickly got to her feet and exclaimed, 'They're gone! They're gone! They say they can't—God won't let them come here!' She added a reason for this that the owner of the study thought was more compassionate than accurate; and soon she composed herself completely, so that her entire manner and speech transformed into a state of calmness."

Upon quitting the study, "the demons" would instantly again take hold of her. Mather continues the statement, by saying that some persons, wishing to try[i.458] the experiment, had her brought "up into the study;" but he says that she at once became—

Upon leaving the study, "the demons" would immediately seize her again. Mather goes on to say that some people, wanting to test[i.458] the experiment, had her taken "up into the study;" but he claims that she instantly became—

"so strangely distorted, that it was an extreme difficulty to drag her up stairs. The demons would pull her out of the people's hands, and make her heavier than, perhaps, three of herself. With incredible toil (though she kept screaming, 'They say I must not go in'), she was pulled in; where she was no sooner got, but she could stand on her feet, and, with altered note, say, 'Now I am well.' She would be faint at first, and say 'she felt something to go out of her' (the noises whereof we sometimes heard like those of a mouse); but, in a minute or two, she could apply herself to devotion. To satisfy some strangers, the experiment was, divers times, with the same success, repeated, until my lothness to have any thing done like making a charm of a room, caused me to forbid the repetition of it."

"so strangely distorted that it was extremely difficult to drag her upstairs. The demons would pull her out of people's hands and make her heavier than maybe three of herself. With incredible effort (even though she kept screaming, 'They say I must not go in'), she was pulled in; as soon as she got inside, she could stand on her own and, with a changed tone, say, 'Now I am well.' She would be faint at first and say 'she felt something leaving her' (the sounds sometimes resembling a mouse); but in a minute or two, she could focus on devotion. To satisfy some strangers, the experiment was repeated several times with the same success, until my reluctance to do anything like making a charm of a room caused me to forbid its repetition."

Even in her most riotous proceedings, she kept her eye fixed upon the doctor's weak point. When he called the family to prayers, she would whistle and sing and yell to drown his voice, would strike him with her fist, and try to kick him. But her hand or foot would always recoil when within an inch or two of his body; thus giving the idea that there was a sort of invisible coat of mail, of heavenly temper, and proof against the assaults of the Devil, around his sacred person! After a while, Dr. Mather concluded to prepare an account of these extraordinary circumstances, wherewithal to entertain his congregation in a sermon. She seemed to be quite displeased at the thought of his making public the doings of her master, the Evil[i.459] One, attempted to prevent his writing the intended sermon, and disturbed and interrupted him in all manner of ways. For instance, she once knocked at his study door, and said that "there was somebody down stairs that would be glad to see him." He dropped his pen, and went down. Upon entering the room, he found nobody there but the family. The next time he met her, he undertook to chide her for having told him a falsehood. She denied that she had told a falsehood. "Didn't you say," said he, "that there was somebody down stairs that would be glad to see me?"—"Well," she replied, with inimitable pertness, "is not Mrs. Mather always glad to see you?"

Even in her wildest actions, she kept her focus on the doctor's weak spot. When he called the family to pray, she would whistle, sing, and shout to drown him out, hitting him with her fist and trying to kick him. But her hand or foot would always pull back when they were just an inch or two from him, creating the impression that he was protected by some invisible armor, blessed and immune to the Devil's attacks! After a while, Dr. Mather decided to write about these extraordinary events to entertain his congregation in a sermon. She seemed quite annoyed at the idea of him going public with the actions of her master, the Evil[i.459] One, and tried to stop him from writing the sermon, disturbing and interrupting him in every possible way. For example, she once knocked on his study door and said that "there was someone downstairs who would be happy to see him." He dropped his pen and went downstairs, only to find nobody there but the family. The next time he saw her, he tried to scold her for telling him a lie. She insisted she hadn't lied. "Didn't you say," he asked, "that there was someone downstairs who would be glad to see me?"—"Well," she replied, with unmatched sass, "isn't Mrs. Mather always glad to see you?"

She even went much farther than this in persecuting the good man while he was writing his sermon: she threw large books at his head. But he struggled manfully against these buffetings of Satan, as he considered her conduct to be, finished the sermon, related all these circumstances in it, preached, and published it. Richard Baxter wrote the preface to an edition printed in London, in which he declares that he who will not be convinced by all the evidence Dr. Mather presents that the child was bewitched "must be a very obdurate Sadducee." It is so obvious, that, in this whole affair, Cotton Mather was grossly deceived and audaciously imposed upon by the most consummate and precocious cunning, that it needs no comment. I have given this particular account of it, because there is reason to believe that it originated the delusion in Salem. It occurred only four years[i.460] before. Dr. Mather's account of the transaction filled the whole country; and it is probable that the children in Mr. Parris's family undertook to re-enact it.

She went even further in harassing the good man while he was writing his sermon: she threw large books at his head. But he bravely stood up to these attacks, which he saw as the work of Satan, finished the sermon, included all these details in it, preached, and published it. Richard Baxter wrote the preface to an edition printed in London, stating that anyone who will not be convinced by all the evidence Dr. Mather presents that the child was bewitched "must be a very stubborn Sadducee." It's so clear that, throughout this whole situation, Cotton Mather was seriously deceived and blatantly manipulated by the most skilled and precocious cunning that it speaks for itself. I shared this particular account because there’s reason to believe it sparked the delusion in Salem. It happened just four years[i.460] beforehand. Dr. Mather's account of the incident spread across the entire country, and it's likely that the children in Mr. Parris's family decided to reenact it.

There is nothing in the annals of the histrionic art more illustrative of the infinite versatility of the human faculties, both physical and mental, and of the amazing extent to which cunning, ingenuity, contrivance, quickness of invention, and presence of mind can be cultivated, even in very young persons, than such cases as this just related. It seems, at first, incredible that a mere child could carry on such a complex piece of fraud and imposture as that enacted by the little girl whose achievements have been immortalized by the famous author of the "Magnalia." Many other instances, however, are found recorded in the history of the delusion we are discussing.

There’s nothing in the history of acting that better shows the limitless versatility of human abilities, both physical and mental, and how much cleverness, creativity, quick thinking, and presence of mind can be developed, even in very young people, than cases like the one just described. At first, it seems unbelievable that a mere child could pull off such a complicated scheme of fraud and deception as that performed by the little girl whose feats have been immortalized by the famous author of the "Magnalia." However, many other examples are recorded in the history of the delusion we are discussing.

That of the grandchild of William and Elizabeth Morse, in Newbury, was nearly as marvellous, and perfectly successful in deceiving the whole country except Caleb Powell; and he got into much trouble in consequence of seeing through it. A similar instance of juvenile imposture is related as having occurred at Amsterdam in 1560. Twenty or thirty boys pretended to be suddenly seized with a kind of rage and fury, were cast upon the ground, and tormented with great agony. These fits were intermittent; and, when they had passed off, their subjects did not seem to be conscious of what had taken place. While they lasted, the boys threw up, apparently from their stomachs, large quantities of needles, pins, thimbles, pieces of[i.461] cloth, fragments of pots and kettles, bits of glass, locks of hair, and a variety of other articles. There was no doubt, at the time, that they were suffering under the influence of the Devil; and multitudes crowded round them, and gazed upon them with wonder and horror.

The grandchild of William and Elizabeth Morse in Newbury had a similarly astonishing story that succeeded in fooling the entire country except for Caleb Powell, who ended up in a lot of trouble for seeing through the deception. A comparable case of children pretending occurred in Amsterdam in 1560. Twenty or thirty boys acted as if they were suddenly overtaken by a strange rage and fury, collapsing to the ground and experiencing great agony. These fits were sporadic, and when they ended, the boys didn’t seem to remember what had happened. During the episodes, they would throw up, seemingly from their stomachs, large amounts of needles, pins, thimbles, pieces of[i.461] cloth, fragments of pots and kettles, bits of glass, locks of hair, and various other items. There was widespread belief at the time that they were being afflicted by the Devil, and crowds gathered around them, watching with a mix of wonder and horror.

The details of the cases in Newbury and Charlestown were dressed up by Cotton Mather and other writers in the strongest colors that credulous superstition and the peculiar views of that age on the subject of demonology could employ. They were almost universally received as proof that Satan had commenced an onslaught, such as had never before been known, upon the Church and the world! They appear to us as simply absurd, and the result of precocious knavery; not so to the people of that generation. They were looked upon as fearful demonstrations of diabolical power, and preludes to the coming of Satan, with his infernal confederates, to overwhelm the land. The imaginations of all were excited, and their apprehensions morbidly aroused. The very air was filled with rumors, fancies, and fears. The ministers sounded the alarm from their pulpits. The magistrates sharpened the sword of justice. The deputy-governor of the colony, Danforth, began to arrest suspected persons months before proceedings commenced, or were thought of, in Salem Village. It was believed that evil spirits had been seen, by men's bodily eyes, in a neighboring town. They glided over the fields, hovered around the houses, appeared, van[i.462]ished, and re-appeared on the outskirts of the woods, in the vicinity of Gloucester. Their movements were observed by several of the inhabitants; and the whole population of the Cape was kept in a state of agitation and alarm, in consequence of the mysterious phenomena, for three weeks. The inhabitants retired to the garrison, and put themselves in a state of defence against the diabolical besiegers. Sixty men were despatched from Ipswich, in military array, to re-enforce the garrison, and several valiant sallies were made from its walls. Much powder was expended, but no corporeal or incorporeal blood was shed. An account of these events was drawn up by the Rev. John Emerson, then the minister of the first parish in Gloucester, from which the facts now mentioned have been selected. It is very minute and particular. The appearance and dress of the supernatural enemies are described. They wore white waistcoats, blue shirts, and white breeches, and had bushy heads of black hair. Mr. Emerson concludes his account by expressing the hope that "all rational persons will be satisfied that Gloucester was not alarmed last summer for above a fortnight together by real French and Indians, but that the Devil and his agents were the cause of all the molestation which at this time befell the town."

The cases in Newbury and Charlestown were exaggerated by Cotton Mather and other writers using the strongest language that gullible superstition and the unique beliefs of that era about demonology could muster. They were almost universally seen as evidence that Satan had launched an unprecedented attack on the Church and the world! To us, they seem completely ridiculous and a result of early deceit; however, people of that generation viewed them as terrifying signs of evil power and as warnings of Satan and his infernal associates coming to invade the land. Everyone's imagination was sparked, and their fears were heightened. The very air was filled with rumors, fantasies, and anxiety. Ministers rang the alarm from their pulpits. The magistrates sharpened their swords of justice. The deputy-governor of the colony, Danforth, began to arrest suspected individuals months before anything was even thought of in Salem Village. It was believed that evil spirits had been seen with people's own eyes in a nearby town. They floated over the fields, hovered around houses, appeared, vanished, and reappeared on the edges of the woods near Gloucester. Several residents observed their movements, and the entire population of the Cape was kept in a state of worry and fear for three weeks due to the mysterious events. The residents retreated to the garrison and prepared to defend themselves against the diabolical attackers. Sixty men were sent from Ipswich, fully armed, to support the garrison, and several brave sorties were made from its walls. A lot of gunpowder was used, but no physical or spectral blood was spilled. The Rev. John Emerson, then the minister of the first parish in Gloucester, documented these events, from which these details have been taken. His account is detailed and specific. The appearance and clothing of the supernatural enemies are described. They wore white waistcoats, blue shirts, and white breeches, and sported bushy black hair. Mr. Emerson concludes his account by hoping that "all rational persons will agree that Gloucester was not alarmed last summer for more than a fortnight by real French and Indians, but that the Devil and his agents were responsible for all the troubles the town faced at that time."

These wonderful things took place at Cape Ann, about the time that the great conflict between the Devil and his confederates on the one hand, and the ministers and magistrates on the other, at Salem Village, was reaching its height. It is said that it was[i.463] regarded by the most considerate persons, at the time, as an artful contrivance of the Devil to create a diversion of the attention of the pious colonists from his operations through the witches in Salem, and, by dividing and distracting their forces, to obtain an advantage over them in the war he was waging against their churches and their religion.

These incredible events occurred at Cape Ann around the peak of the intense struggle between the Devil and his allies on one side, and the ministers and magistrates on the other, in Salem Village. It’s said that it was[i.463] seen by the most thoughtful people at the time as a clever scheme by the Devil to shift the attention of the devout colonists away from his actions through the witches in Salem, and by splitting and distracting their forces, to gain an upper hand in the battle he was fighting against their churches and their faith.


We are now ready to enter upon the story of Salem witchcraft. We have endeavored to become acquainted with the people who acted conspicuous parts in the drama, and to understand their character; and have tried to collect, and bring into appreciating view, the opinions and theories, the habits of thought, the associations of mind, the passions, impulses, and fantasies that guided, moulded, and controlled their conduct. The law, literature, and theology of the age, as they bore on the subject, have been brought before us. The last great display of the effects of the doctrines of demonology, of the belief of the agency of invisible, irresponsible beings, whether fallen angels or departed spirits, upon the actions of men and human affairs, is now to open before us. The final results of superstitions and fables and fancies, accumulating through the ages, are to be exhibited in a transaction, an actual demonstration in real life. They are to present an exemplification that will at once fully display their power, and deal their death-blow.

We are now ready to dive into the story of the Salem witch trials. We have tried to get to know the people who played key roles in this event and to understand their personalities. We've also aimed to gather and highlight the opinions and theories, thought patterns, mental associations, passions, impulses, and fantasies that influenced, shaped, and controlled their actions. The laws, literature, and theology of the time related to this topic have been considered. We are about to witness the last significant demonstration of the effects of demonology beliefs, the idea that invisible, uncontrollable beings—whether fallen angels or spirits of the deceased—could influence human actions and affairs. The ultimate consequences of superstitions, myths, and fanciful ideas that have built up over the years are about to be revealed in an event, a real-life demonstration. This will provide a clear example that fully showcases their power while exposing their downfall.

Without the least purpose or wish to cover up or extenuate the follies, excesses, or outrages I am about[i.464] to describe, into which the community suffered itself to be led in the witchcraft proceedings of 1692,—with a desire, on the contrary, to make the lesson then given of the mischief resulting from misguided enthusiasm, and which will always result when popular excitement is allowed to wield the organized powers of society, as impressive as facts and truth will justify,—I feel bound to say, in advance, that there are some considerations which we must keep before us, while reviewing the incidents of the transaction. The theological, legal, and philosophical doctrines and the popular beliefs, on which it was founded, have, as I have shown, led, in other countries and periods, to similar, and often vastly more shameful, cruel, and destructive results. But there was something in the affair, as it was developed here, that has arrested the notice of mankind, and clothed it with an inherent interest, beyond all other events of the kind that have elsewhere or ever occurred.

Without any intention to hide or downplay the mistakes, excesses, or wrongdoings I’m about[i.464] to describe, into which the community allowed itself to be led during the witchcraft trials of 1692,—and with a desire, on the contrary, to highlight the lesson about the harm that comes from misguided enthusiasm, which will always arise when public excitement is allowed to take control of organized society's powers, as convincingly as facts and truth allow,—I feel I must point out, upfront, that there are several factors we need to keep in mind while reviewing the events. The theological, legal, and philosophical principles and the popular beliefs that underpinned it have, as I’ve demonstrated, led in other countries and times to similar, and often much more shameful, cruel, and destructive outcomes. However, there was something about this situation, as it unfolded here, that caught the attention of people and gave it an inherent significance, unlike any other events of this kind that have occurred elsewhere or at any other time.

The moral force engendered in the civilization planted on these shores, and pervading the whole body of society, supplied a mightier momentum, as it does to this day, and ever will, to the movement of the people, acting in a mass and as a unit, than can anywhere else be found. A population, invigorated by hardy enterprise, and the constant exercise of all the faculties of freedom, and actuated throughout by individual energy of character, must be mightier in motion than any other people. Such a population multiplies tenfold its physical forces, by the addition of[i.465] moral and intellectual energies. The men of the day and scene we are now to contemplate, however deluded, to whatever extremities carried, were controlled by fixed, absolute, sharply defined, and, in themselves, great ideas. They believed in God. They also believed in the Devil. They bowed in an adoration that penetrated their inmost souls, before the one as a being of infinite holiness: they regarded the other as a being of an all but infinite power of evil. They feared and worshipped God. They hated and defied the Devil. They believed that Satan was waging war against Jehovah, and that the conflict was for the dominion of the world, for the establishment or the overthrow of the Church of Christ. The battle, they fully believed, could have no other issue than the salvation or the ruin of the souls of men. This was not, with them, a mere technical, verbal creed. It was a deep-seated conviction, held earnestly with a clear and distinct apprehension of its import, by every individual mind. For this warfare, they put on the whole armor of faith, rallied to the banner of the Most High, and met Satan face to face. In this one great idea, a stern, determined, unflinching, all-sacrificing people concentrated their strength. No wonder that the conflict reached a magnitude which made it observable to the whole country and all countries at the time, and will make it memorable throughout all time. Those engaged in it, with this sentiment absorbing their very souls, passed, for the time, out of the realm of all other sentiments, and were insensible to all other considera[i.466]tions. The nearer and dearer the relatives, the higher and more conspicuous the persons, who, in their belief, were in league with the Devil, the more profound the abhorrence of their crime, and the determination to cut off and destroy them utterly. They believed that Satan had, once before, "against the throne and monarchy of God, raised impious war and battle proud;" and that for this he had been cast out from "heaven, with all his host of rebel angels;" that he, with his army of subordinate wicked spirits, was making a desperate effort to retrieve his lost estate, by a renewed rebellion against God; and they were determined to drive him, and all his confederates, for ever from the confines of the earth. The humble hamlet of Salem Village was felt to be the great and final battle-ground. However wild and absurd this idea is now regarded, it was then sincerely and thoroughly entertained, and must be taken into the account, in coming to a just estimate of the character of the transaction, and of those engaged in it.

The moral strength generated in the society established on these shores, which permeates the entire community, provides a more powerful drive, just as it does today and always will, for the collective movement of people acting together as a unit, than can be found anywhere else. A population energized by robust enterprise and the continuous exercise of all the freedoms available, driven by individual character and energy, must be more powerful in its actions than any other group. Such a population amplifies its physical strength tenfold through the addition of[i.465] moral and intellectual energies. The people of the time and place we are about to explore, however misled and extreme in their views, were governed by fixed, absolute, sharply defined, and profoundly significant ideas. They believed in God. They also believed in the Devil. They worshipped the former with a devotion that reached their deepest souls, viewing Him as a being of infinite holiness, while they saw the latter as a being of nearly infinite evil power. They feared and worshipped God. They hated and defied the Devil. They believed that Satan was at war with Jehovah and that this battle was for control of the world, concerning the establishment or downfall of the Church of Christ. They fully believed that the outcome of this battle would determine the salvation or ruin of human souls. For them, this was not just a technical or verbal belief; it was a deeply held conviction, sincerely embraced with a clear understanding of its significance, by every individual mind. In this struggle, they donned the full armor of faith, rallied behind the banner of the Most High, and confronted Satan directly. In this singular powerful idea, a determined, resolute, unwavering, and self-sacrificing people focused their strength. It’s no wonder the conflict escalated to a level that drew the attention of the entire country and other nations, making it a moment in history that will be remembered forever. Those involved, consumed by this sentiment, temporarily stepped away from all other emotions and were indifferent to other considerations. The closer and more esteemed the relatives, the more prominent the individuals whom they believed were allied with the Devil, the deeper their disgust for their actions, and the stronger their resolve to eradicate them completely. They believed that Satan had once previously "raised an impious war and proud battle against the throne and monarchy of God;" and that for this, he had been cast out of "heaven, along with all his host of rebel angels;" that he, along with his army of wicked spirits, was making a desperate attempt to reclaim his lost state by rebelling against God again; and they were determined to drive him and all his allies forever from the earth. The small hamlet of Salem Village was seen as the great and final battleground. No matter how wild and absurd this idea may seem now, it was sincerely and thoroughly believed back then and must be considered in assessing the true nature of the events and those involved.

One other thought is to be borne in mind, as we pass through the scenes that are to be spread before us. The theology of Christendom, at that time, so far as it relates to the power and agency of Satan and demonology in general,—and this is the only point of view on which I ever refer to theology in this discussion,—and the whole fabric of popular superstitions founded upon it, had reached their culmination. The beginning, middle, and close of the seventeenth century, witnessed the greatest display of those supersti[i.467]tions, and prepared the way for their final explosion. As the hour of their dissolution was at hand, and they were doomed to vanish before the light of science and education, to pass from the realm of supposed reality into that of acknowledged fiction, it seems to have been ordered that they should leave monuments behind them, from which their character, elements, and features, and their terrible influence, might be read and studied in all subsequent ages.

One more thing to keep in mind as we go through the events that will unfold before us is the state of Christian theology back then, especially regarding the power and influence of Satan and demonology in general. This is the only aspect of theology I will discuss here. The whole structure of popular superstitions based on it had reached its peak. The seventeenth century—its start, middle, and end—saw the greatest expressions of these superstitions and set the stage for their eventual downfall. As it became clear that these beliefs were about to fade away, destined to disappear in the face of science and education, moving from the realm of supposed reality into that of accepted fiction, it appears to have been intended that they would leave behind remnants. These remnants would allow future generations to analyze and understand their nature, elements, characteristics, and their fearsome impact.

The ideas in reference to the agency and designs of the great enemy of God and man, and all his subordinate hosts, witches, fairies, ghosts, "gorgons and hydras, and chimeras dire," "apparitions, signs, and prodigies," by which the minds of men had so long been filled, and their fearful imaginations exercised, as they took their flight, imprinted themselves, for perpetual remembrance, in productions which, more than any works of mere human genius, are sure to live for ever. They left their forms crystallized, with imperishable lineaments, in the greatest of dramas and the greatest of epics. The plays of Shakespeare, as the century opened, and the verse of Milton in its central period, are their record and their picture.

The concepts around the agency and schemes of the ultimate enemy of God and humanity, along with all his lesser forces—witches, fairies, ghosts, "gorgons and hydras, and chimeras dire," "apparitions, signs, and prodigies"—had long filled people's minds and fueled their fearful imaginations. As these ideas took flight, they became imprinted for eternal remembrance in works that, more than any creations of mere human skill, are destined to endure forever. Their forms remain captured, with lasting features, in the greatest dramas and epics. The plays of Shakespeare, as the century began, and Milton's verses in its middle period serve as both their record and their depiction.

But there was another shape and aspect in which it was pre-eminently important to have their memory preserved; and that was their application to life, their influence upon the conduct of men, the action of tribunals, and the movements of society, and, in general, their effects, when allowed full operation, upon human happiness and welfare. This want was supplied, as[i.468] the century terminated, by the tragedy in real life, whose scenes are now to be presented in Witchcraft at Salem Village.

But it was also really important to remember them for another reason: their impact on life, how they shaped people's actions, influenced courts, and affected society as a whole. Simply put, we need to consider how they contributed to human happiness and well-being when given their full scope. This need was addressed, as[i.468] the century came to an end, by the tragic events in real life, which will now be presented in Witchcraft in Salem Village.

However strange it seems, it is quite worthy of observation, that the actors in that tragedy, the "afflicted children," and other witnesses, in their various statements and operations, embraced about the whole circle of popular superstition. How those young country girls, some of them mere children, most of them wholly illiterate, could have become familiar with such fancies, to such an extent, is truly surprising. They acted out, and brought to bear with tremendous effect, almost all that can be found in the literature of that day, and the period preceding it, relating to such subjects. Images and visions which had been portrayed in tales of romance, and given interest to the pages of poetry, will be made by them, as we shall see, to throng the woods, flit through the air, and hover over the heads of a terrified court. The ghosts of murdered wives and children will play their parts with a vividness of representation and artistic skill of expression that have hardly been surpassed in scenic representations on the stage. In the Salem-witchcraft proceedings, the superstition of the middle ages was embodied in real action. All its extravagances, absurdities, and monstrosities appear in their application to human experience. We see what the effect has been, and must be, when the affairs of life, in courts of law and the relations of society, or the conduct or feelings of individuals, are suffered to[i.469] be under the control of fanciful or mystical notions. When a whole people abandons the solid ground of common sense, overleaps the boundaries of human knowledge, gives itself up to wild reveries, and lets loose its passions without restraint, it presents a spectacle more terrific to behold, and becomes more destructive and disastrous, than any convulsion of mere material nature; than tornado, conflagration, or earthquake.

As strange as it may seem, it's worth noting that the participants in that tragedy, the "afflicted children," along with other witnesses, reflected nearly the entire range of popular superstition in their various statements and actions. It's truly surprising how those young country girls, some merely children and most entirely illiterate, became so familiar with such fantasies. They acted out and applied nearly everything found in the literature of that time and the periods before it related to such topics. The images and visions from romantic tales and poetry will, as we will see, fill the woods, soar through the air, and hover over the heads of a terrified court. The ghosts of murdered wives and children will perform with a vividness and artistry that are rarely matched in stage performances. In the Salem witch trials, the superstitions of the Middle Ages came to life in real actions. All its extravagances, absurdities, and monstrosities are evident in their application to human experiences. We see the results when the matters of life—like legal proceedings, social relationships, or the behavior and emotions of individuals—are left to be governed by fanciful or mystical ideas. When an entire population abandons common sense, exceeds the limits of human knowledge, surrenders to wild fantasies, and unleashes its passions without restraint, it creates a spectacle more terrifying to witness and becomes more destructive than any natural disaster like a tornado, fire, or earthquake.

END OF VOL. I.


FOOTNOTES

[A] Not only the storms of two hundred and thirty years, but the bolts of heaven, have beat in vain upon this mansion. The view given of it in the frontispiece is from a sketch taken in winter. The leafless branches of a tall elm at its western end are represented. At noon on Saturday, July 28, 1866, during a violent thunder-storm, the electric fluid seems to have passed down the tree, rending and tearing some of its branches, and leaving its traces on the trunk. It flashed into the house. It tore the roof, knocking away one corner, displacing in patches the mortar that coated the old chimney top and sides, hacking the edges of the brick-work, splitting off the side of an extension to the building at the western end, entering a chamber at that point, where two children were sitting at a window, and throwing upon the floor, within two or three feet of them, a considerable portion of the plastered ceiling. It then scattered all through the apartments. What looked like perforations, as if made by shot or pistol-balls, were found in many places; but there were no corresponding marks on the opposite sides of the walls or partitions. Portions of the paper-hangings were stripped off, and small slivers ripped up from the floors. It struck the frames of looking-glasses, cracking off small pieces of the wood, but only in one instance breaking the mirror. It cut a velvet band by which one was hung; and it was found on the floor, the mirror downward and unbroken, as if it had been carefully laid there. In the attic, fragments of the old gnarled and knotted rafters, of different lengths,—from four or five feet to mere chips,—were scattered in quantities upon the floor, and grooves made lengthwise along posts and implements of household use. Large cracks were left in the wooden casings of some of the doors and windows. A family of eight persons were seated around the dinner-table. All were more or less affected. They were deprived for the time of the use of their feet and ancles; were stunned, paralyzed, and rendered insensible for a few moments by the shock; and felt the effects, some of them, for a day or two in their lower limbs. In front of each person at the table was a tall goblet, which had just been filled with water. As soon as they were able to notice, they found the water dripping on all sides to the floor, the whole table-cloth wet, seven of the goblets entirely empty, the eighth half emptied, and not one of them thrown over, or in the slightest manner displaced. The whole house was filled with what seemed, to the sight and smell, to be smoke; but no combustion, scorch, discoloration, or the least indication of heat, could be found on any of the objects struck. The building, in its thirteen rooms, from the garret to the ground-floor, had been flooded with lightning; but, with all its inmates, escaped without considerable or permanent injury.

[A] Not only have storms battered this house for two hundred and thirty years, but even lightning has struck it in vain. The view shown in the frontispiece is based on a winter sketch. The bare branches of a tall elm at its western end are depicted. At noon on Saturday, July 28, 1866, during a fierce thunderstorm, it seems that the lightning traveled down the tree, ripping apart some of its branches and leaving marks on the trunk. It then struck the house, tearing off a corner of the roof, causing the mortar that covered the old chimney to loosen in patches, damaging the edges of the brickwork, and splintering part of an extension at the western end. It entered a room at that point, where two children were sitting by a window, and dropped a significant portion of the plastered ceiling on the floor, just a couple of feet away from them. It then spread throughout the rooms. What looked like bullet holes appeared in many spots, but there were no matching marks on the walls or partitions opposite them. Pieces of wallpaper were torn off, and small shards were lifted from the floors. It hit the frames of mirrors, chipping away small bits of wood, but only one mirror actually broke. It cut a velvet strap that held one of the mirrors, which was found on the floor, mirror side down and unbroken, as if it had been carefully placed there. In the attic, bits of old twisted rafters, ranging from four or five feet to tiny splinters, were scattered across the floor, and grooves were carved along posts and household items. Large cracks appeared in the wooden frames of some doors and windows. A family of eight was sitting around the dinner table, and all were affected to some degree. They temporarily lost feeling in their feet and ankles, were stunned and paralyzed for a few moments from the shock, and some felt lingering effects in their legs for a day or two. In front of each person at the table was a tall goblet that had just been filled with water. As soon as they were able to notice, they saw water dripping on all sides onto the floor, the entire tablecloth soaked, seven of the goblets completely empty, the eighth half-empty, with none of them tipped over or even slightly disturbed. The entire house was filled with what appeared to be smoke, both visibly and in smell, but there were no signs of burning, scorching, discoloration, or any indication of heat on any of the affected objects. The building, with its thirteen rooms, from the attic to the ground floor, had been flooded with lightning, but all its occupants escaped without significant or lasting harm.

[B] For a thorough discussion of the several Hebrew words that relate to Divination and Magic, see Wierus de Præstigiis, L. 2, c. 1.

[B] For a detailed discussion of the various Hebrew words related to divination and magic, see Wierus de Præstigiis, L. 2, c. 1.

[C] The syllogism was originally designed to serve as a method of determining the arrangement and classification of truth already shown; and, when employed for this purpose, was of great value and excellence. It was its perverted application to the discovery of truth which rendered utterly worthless so large a part of the learning and philosophy of the middle ages. The reader will perceive, that it is to the syllogism, as thus misapplied and misunderstood by the schoolmen, not as designed and used by Aristotle, that the remarks in the text are intended to apply.

[C] The syllogism was originally created to be a method for organizing and classifying established truth; when used for this purpose, it was very valuable and effective. However, its misuse in the search for truth rendered much of the learning and philosophy of the Middle Ages completely useless. The reader should understand that the comments in the text refer to the syllogism as it was misapplied and misunderstood by the schoolmen, not as intended and used by Aristotle.

[D] The manner in which Dr. Mather brings forward this affair shows how loose and inaccurate he was in his description of events. It also illustrates the tendency of the times to exaggerate, or to paint in the highest colors, whatever was susceptible of being represented as miraculous. There is no reason, however, to doubt that the facts took place substantially as described in the text. The reader is referred, on this as on all points connected with our early history, to Mr. Savage's instructive, elaborate, and entertaining edition of Winthrop's "New England."

[D] Dr. Mather's handling of this situation shows how careless and inaccurate he was in describing events. It also highlights the era's tendency to exaggerate or dramatize anything that could be viewed as miraculous. However, there’s no reason to doubt that the facts happened mostly as described in the text. For more information on this and all aspects of our early history, the reader is directed to Mr. Savage's informative, detailed, and engaging edition of Winthrop's "New England."

[E] It is much to be regretted, that Farmer, after having written with such admirable success upon the temptation, the demoniacs, miracles, and the worship of human spirits, did not live to accomplish his original design, by giving the world a complete discussion and elucidation of the Scripture doctrine of the Devil.

[E] It’s a real shame that Farmer, after writing so successfully about temptation, demoniacs, miracles, and the worship of human spirits, didn’t live to fulfill his original plan of providing a comprehensive discussion and explanation of the Scripture’s teachings on the Devil.

VOLUME II.

THE PHILIP ENGLISH HOUSE.—Vol. II., 142.

THE PHILIP ENGLISH HOUSE.—Vol. II., __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__.


 Witch Hill. 1866.

Witch Hill. 1866.

 

PART THIRD.


WITCHCRAFT AT SALEM VILLAGE.

W E left Mr. Parris in the early part of November, 1691, at the crisis of his controversy with the inhabitants of Salem Village, under circumstances which seemed to indicate that its termination was near at hand. The opposition to him had assumed a form which made it quite probable that it would succeed in dislodging him from his position. But the end was not yet. Events were ripening that were to give him a new and fearful strength, and open a scene in which he was to act a part destined to attract the notice of the world, and become a permanent portion of human history. The doctrines of demonology had produced their full effect upon the minds of men, and every thing was ready for a final display of their power. The story of the Goodwin children, as told by Cotton Mather, was known and read in all the dwellings of the land, and filled the imaginations of a credulous age. [ii.2]Deputy-governor Danforth had begun the work of arrests; and persons charged with witchcraft, belonging to neighboring towns, were already in prison.

W E left Mr. Parris in early November 1691, at a critical point in his conflict with the people of Salem Village, under circumstances that suggested it was about to come to an end. The opposition he faced had taken a form that made it quite likely he would be removed from his position. But that wasn't the end yet. Events were developing that would give him a new and terrifying power, leading to a situation where he would play a role that would capture the attention of the world and become a lasting part of human history. The ideas around witchcraft had fully influenced people's minds, and everything was set for a final showcase of their power. The story of the Goodwin children, as recounted by Cotton Mather, was known and read in homes across the country, captivating the imaginations of a gullible age. [ii.2]Deputy-governor Danforth had started the process of arrests, and people accused of witchcraft from nearby towns were already in jail.

Mr. Parris appears to have had in his family several slaves, probably brought by him from the West Indies. One of them, whom he calls, in his church-record book, "my negro lad," had died, a year or two before, at the age of nineteen. Two of them were man and wife. The former was always known by the name of "John Indian;" the latter was called "Tituba." These two persons may have originated the "Salem witchcraft." They are spoken of as having come from New Spain, as it was then called,—that is, the Spanish West Indies, and the adjacent mainlands of Central and South America,—and, in all probability, contributed, from the wild and strange superstitions prevalent among their native tribes, materials which, added to the commonly received notions on such subjects, heightened the infatuation of the times, and inflamed still more the imaginations of the credulous. Persons conversant with the Indians of Mexico, and on both sides of the Isthmus, discern many similarities in their systems of demonology with ideas and practices developed here.

Mr. Parris seemed to have several slaves in his family, likely brought by him from the West Indies. One of them, whom he referred to in his church record book as "my black lad," had died a year or two earlier at the age of nineteen. Two of them were a married couple. The husband was commonly known as "John Indian," while the wife was called "Tituba." These two individuals may have sparked the "Salem witchcraft" phenomenon. They are said to have come from New Spain, which was the term used then for the Spanish West Indies and the nearby mainland areas of Central and South America. It's very likely that they contributed elements from the wild and unusual superstitions prevalent in their native tribes, which, when mixed with the already existing beliefs on such topics, intensified the hysteria of the time and fueled the imaginations of those who were easily swayed. Those familiar with the Indigenous peoples of Mexico and the regions on either side of the Isthmus can spot many similarities in their demonology with ideas and practices that emerged here.

Mr. Parris's former residence in the neighborhood of the Spanish Main, and the prominent part taken by his Indian slaves in originating the proceedings at the village, may account for some of the features of the transaction.

Mr. Parris's old home in the area of the Spanish Main, along with the significant role his Indian slaves played in starting the events in the village, might explain some of the aspects of the situation.

During the winter of 1691 and 1692, a circle of young girls had been formed, who were in the habit of meeting at Mr. Parris's house for the [ii.3]purpose of practising palmistry, and other arts of fortune-telling, and of becoming experts in the wonders of necromancy, magic, and spiritualism. It consisted, besides the Indian servants, mainly of the following persons:—

During the winter of 1691 and 1692, a group of young girls began meeting at Mr. Parris's house for the purpose of practicing palm reading and other forms of fortune-telling, as well as becoming skilled in the mysteries of necromancy, magic, and spiritualism. It included, in addition to the Indian servants, mainly the following individuals:—

Elizabeth, daughter of Mr. Parris, was nine years of age. She seems to have performed a leading part in the first stages of the affair, and must have been a child of remarkable precocity. It is a noticeable fact, that her father early removed her from the scene. She was sent to the town, where she remained in the family of Stephen Sewall, until the proceedings at the village were brought to a close. Abigail Williams, a niece of Mr. Parris, and a member of his household, was eleven years of age. She acted conspicuously in the witchcraft prosecutions from beginning to end. Ann Putnam, daughter of Sergeant Thomas Putnam, the parish clerk or recorder, was twelve years of age. The character and social position of her parents gave her a prominence which an extraordinary development of the imaginative faculty, and of mental powers generally, enabled her to hold throughout. This young girl is perhaps entitled to be regarded as, in many respects, the leading agent in all the mischief that followed. Mary Walcot was seventeen years of age. Her father was Jonathan Walcot (vol. i. p. 225). His first wife, Mary Sibley, to whom he was married in 1664, had died in 1683. She was the mother of Mary. It is a singular fact, and indicates the estimation in which Captain Walcot was held, that, although not a church-member, he filled the office of deacon of the parish[ii.4] for several years before the formation of the church. Mercy Lewis was also seventeen years of age. When quite young, she was, for a time, in the family of the Rev. George Burroughs: and, in 1692, was living as a servant in the family of Thomas Putnam; although, occasionally, she seems to have lived, in the same capacity, with that of John Putnam, Jr., the constable of the village. He was a son of Nathaniel, and resided in the neighborhood of Thomas and Deacon Edward Putnam. Mercy Lewis performed a leading part in the proceedings, had great energy of purpose and capacity of management, and became responsible for much of the crime and horror connected with them. Elizabeth Hubbard, seventeen years of age, who also occupies a bad eminence in the scene, was a niece of Mrs. Dr. Griggs, and lived in her family. Elizabeth Booth and Susannah Sheldon, each eighteen years of age, belonged to families in the neighborhood. Mary Warren, twenty years of age, was a servant in the family of John Procter; and Sarah Churchill, of the same age, was a servant in that of George Jacobs, Sr. These two last were actuated, it is too apparent, by malicious feelings towards the families in which they resided, and contributed largely to the horrible tragedy. The facts to be exhibited will enable every one who carefully considers them, to form an estimate, for himself, of the respective character and conduct of these young persons. It is almost beyond belief that they were wholly actuated by deliberate and cold-blooded malignity. Their crime would, in that view, have been[ii.5] without a parallel in monstrosity of wickedness, and beyond what can be imagined of the guiltiest and most depraved natures. For myself, I am unable to determine how much may be attributed to credulity, hallucination, and the delirium of excitement, or to deliberate malice and falsehood. There is too much evidence of guile and conspiracy to attribute all their actions and declarations to delusion; and their conduct throughout was stamped with a bold assurance and audacious bearing. With one or two slight and momentary exceptions, there was a total absence of compunction or commiseration, and a reckless disregard of the agonies and destruction they were scattering around them. They present a subject that justly claims, and will for ever task, the examination of those who are most competent to fathom the mysteries of the human soul, sound its depths, and measure the extent to which it is liable to become wicked and devilish. It will be seen that other persons were drawn to act with these "afflicted children," as they were called, some from contagious delusion, and some, as was quite well proved, from a false, mischievous, and malignant spirit.

Elizabeth, daughter of Mr. Parris, was nine years old. She seems to have played a significant role in the early stages of the incident and must have been an exceptionally advanced child. Notably, her father quickly removed her from the situation. She was sent to town, where she stayed with the Sewall family until the events in the village were over. Abigail Williams, Mr. Parris's niece and a member of his household, was eleven years old. She was prominently involved in the witch trials from start to finish. Ann Putnam, daughter of Sergeant Thomas Putnam, the parish clerk, was twelve years old. Her parents' social status gave her a prominent role, which her remarkable imagination and mental capabilities allowed her to maintain throughout. This young girl may be considered, in many ways, the main figure in all the chaos that followed. Mary Walcot was seventeen years old. Her father was Jonathan Walcot (vol. i. p. 225). His first wife, Mary Sibley, whom he married in 1664, passed away in 1683. She was Mary’s mother. It’s an interesting fact that indicates how well Captain Walcot was regarded; despite not being a church member, he served as deacon of the parish[ii.4] for several years before the church was established. Mercy Lewis was also seventeen. When she was quite young, she lived for a time with Rev. George Burroughs; in 1692, she worked as a servant for Thomas Putnam, though she also occasionally served John Putnam Jr., the village constable. He was a son of Nathaniel and lived near Thomas and Deacon Edward Putnam. Mercy Lewis played a key role in the proceedings, showing great determination and management skills, and became responsible for much of the crime and horror associated with them. Elizabeth Hubbard, also seventeen and prominently involved, was a niece of Mrs. Dr. Griggs and lived in her household. Elizabeth Booth and Susannah Sheldon, each eighteen, belonged to nearby families. Mary Warren, twenty years old, was a servant in John Procter's household, and Sarah Churchill, also twenty, worked as a servant for George Jacobs Sr. It’s evident that those two last individuals were driven by spite towards the families they worked for and contributed significantly to the tragic events. The information presented will allow anyone who carefully considers it to form their own opinion about the character and actions of these young individuals. It’s almost unbelievable that they were entirely motivated by calculated and ruthless malice. Their actions, viewed that way, would be unparalleled in their wickedness and beyond what anyone could imagine from the most guilty and depraved individuals. Personally, I can’t determine how much should be attributed to gullibility, hallucination, and excitement or to deliberate malice and deceit. There’s too much evidence of deceit and conspiracy to attribute all their actions and statements to delusion; their behavior was marked by bold confidence and audacity. With a few minor and brief exceptions, there was a complete lack of remorse or compassion and a reckless indifference to the pain and destruction they were causing. They present a topic that rightly deserves and will forever challenge the examination of those most capable of understanding the complexities of the human soul, exploring its depths, and measuring how far it can become wicked and malicious. It will also be observed that others were drawn to act alongside these so-called "afflicted children," some out of shared delusion and others, as has been clearly proven, out of a false, harmful, and malevolent spirit.

Besides the above-mentioned persons, there were three married women, rather under middle life, who acted with the afflicted children,—Mrs. Ann Putnam, the mother of the child of that name; Mrs. Pope; and a woman, named Bibber, who appears to have lived at Wenham. Another married woman,—spoken of as "ancient,"—named Goodell, had also been in the[ii.6] habit of attending their meetings; but she is not named in any of the documents on file, and was probably withdrawn, at an early period, from participating in the transaction.

Besides the people mentioned earlier, there were three married women, who were slightly younger than middle-aged, that interacted with the affected children—Mrs. Ann Putnam, the mother of the child with the same name; Mrs. Pope; and a woman named Bibber, who seems to have lived in Wenham. Another married woman, referred to as "old," named Goodell, had also been regularly attending their meetings; however, she is not mentioned in any of the documents available and likely stopped participating early in the process.

In the course of the winter, they became quite skilful and expert in the arts they were learning, and gradually began to display their attainments to the admiration and amazement of beholders. At first, they made no charges against any person, but confined themselves to strange actions, exclamations, and contortions. They would creep into holes, and under benches and chairs, put themselves into odd and unnatural postures, make wild and antic gestures, and utter incoherent and unintelligible sounds. They would be seized with spasms, drop insensible to the floor, or writhe in agony, suffering dreadful tortures, and uttering loud and piercing outcries. The attention of the families in which they held their meetings was called to their extraordinary condition and proceedings; and the whole neighborhood and surrounding country soon were filled with the story of the strange and unaccountable sufferings of the "afflicted girls." No explanation could be given, and their condition became worse and worse. The physician of the village, Dr. Griggs, was called in, a consultation had, and the opinion finally and gravely given, that the afflicted children were bewitched. It was quite common in those days for the faculty to dispose of difficult cases by this resort. When their remedies were baffled, and their skill at fault, the patient was[ii.7] said to be "under an evil hand." In all cases, the sage conclusion was received by nurses, and elderly women called in on such occasions, if the symptoms were out of the common course, or did not yield to the prescriptions these persons were in the habit of applying. Very soon, the whole community became excited and alarmed to the highest degree. All other topics were forgotten. The only thing spoken or thought of was the terrible condition of the afflicted children in Mr. Parris's house, or wherever, from time to time, the girls assembled. They were the objects of universal compassion and wonder. The people flocked from all quarters to witness their sufferings, and gaze with awe upon their convulsions. Becoming objects of such notice, they were stimulated to vary and expand the manifestations of the extraordinary influence that was upon them. They extended their operations beyond the houses of Mr. Parris, and the families to which they belonged, to public places; and their fits, exclamations, and outcries disturbed the exercises of prayer meetings, and the ordinary services of the congregation. On one occasion, on the Lord's Day, March 20th, when the singing of the psalm previous to the sermon was concluded, before the person preaching—Mr. Lawson—could come forward, Abigail Williams cried out, "Now stand up, and name your text." When he had read it, in a loud and insolent voice she exclaimed, "It's a long text." In the midst of the discourse, Mrs. Pope broke in, "Now, there is enough of that." In the afternoon of the same day, while re[ii.8]ferring to the doctrine he had been expounding in the preceding service, Abigail Williams rudely ejaculated, "I know no doctrine you had. If you did name one, I have forgot it." An aged member of the church was present, against whom a warrant on the charge of witchcraft had been procured the day before. Being apprised of the proceeding, Abigail Williams spoke aloud, during the service, calling by name the person about to be apprehended, "Look where she sits upon the beam, sucking her yellow-bird betwixt her fingers." Ann Putnam, joining in, exclaimed, "There is a yellow-bird sitting on the minister's hat, as it hangs on the pin in the pulpit." Mr. Lawson remarks, with much simplicity, that these things, occurring "in the time of public worship, did something interrupt me in my first prayer, being so unusual." But he braced himself up to the emergency, and went on with the service. There is no intimation that Mr. Parris rebuked his niece for her disorderly behavior. As at several other times, the people sitting near Ann Putnam had to lay hold of her to prevent her proceeding to greater extremities, and wholly breaking up the meeting. The girls were supposed to be under an irresistible and supernatural impulse; and, instead of being severely punished, were looked upon with mingled pity, terror, and awe, and made objects of the greatest attention. Of course, where members of the minister's family were countenanced in such proceedings, during the exercises of public worship, on the Lord's Day, in the meeting-house, it was not[ii.9] strange that people in general yielded to the excitement. But all did not. Several members of the family of Francis Nurse, Peter Cloyse and wife, and Joseph Putnam, expressed their disapprobation of such doings being allowed, and absented themselves from meeting. Perhaps others took the same course; but whoever did were marked, as the sequel will show.

During the winter, they became quite skilled and proficient in the arts they were learning, and gradually started to show off their skills to the fascination and astonishment of onlookers. At first, they didn't accuse anyone but instead focused on strange actions, exclamations, and contortions. They would crawl into holes, under benches and chairs, put themselves in odd and unnatural positions, make wild and frantic gestures, and produce incoherent and nonsensical sounds. They would be overcome by spasms, drop unconscious to the floor, or writhe in agony, suffering severe torment and letting out loud, piercing cries. The families where they held their meetings took notice of their unusual condition and behavior; soon, the whole neighborhood and surrounding areas buzzed with tales of the strange and inexplicable sufferings of the "afflicted girls." No explanation could be found, and their condition worsened. The village doctor, Dr. Griggs, was called in, a consultation was held, and it was ultimately and seriously concluded that the afflicted children were bewitched. Back then, it was common for doctors to dismiss challenging cases like this. When their remedies failed and their expertise fell short, the patient was said to be "under an evil hand." In such cases, this wise conclusion was accepted by nurses and older women summoned during unusual symptoms that didn’t respond to their usual remedies. Before long, the entire community became intensely excited and alarmed. All other topics were forgotten. The only thing anyone could talk or think about was the terrible plight of the afflicted children in Mr. Parris’s house or wherever the girls gathered. They became the focus of universal sympathy and wonder. People came from all over to witness their sufferings and watch in awe as they convulsed. As they drew so much attention, they began to change and amplify the displays of the extraordinary influence affecting them. They extended their actions beyond Mr. Parris's house and their own families to public places; their fits, exclamations, and cries interrupted prayer meetings and the usual services of the congregation. On one occasion, on Sunday, March 20th, after the psalm was sung before the sermon, before the preacher—Mr. Lawson—could step forward, Abigail Williams shouted, "Now stand up and name your text." Once he read it, she exclaimed in a loud and disrespectful tone, "It's a long text." During his sermon, Mrs. Pope interrupted, saying, "Now, that's enough of that." Later that same day, as he was referring back to the doctrine he had discussed earlier, Abigail Williams rudely interjected, "I don't know any doctrine you had. If you did name one, I've forgotten it." An older church member was present, who had a warrant out for her arrest on witchcraft charges obtained the day before. Noticing the proceedings, Abigail Williams loudly identified the person who was about to be arrested, saying, "Look where she sits on the beam, sucking her yellow bird between her fingers." Ann Putnam chimed in, saying, "There's a yellow bird sitting on the minister's hat, hanging on the pin in the pulpit." Mr. Lawson noted simply that these occurrences "during public worship somewhat interrupted me in my first prayer, being so unusual." But he gathered himself and continued with the service. There is no indication that Mr. Parris scolded his niece for her disruptive behavior. As had happened at other times, the people sitting near Ann Putnam had to grab her to stop her from escalating her antics and completely disrupting the meeting. The girls were believed to be under an irresistible supernatural influence; instead of being severely punished, they were regarded with a mix of pity, fear, and reverence, becoming objects of great attention. Naturally, since members of the minister's family were supported in such behaviors during public worship on Sunday in the meeting-house, it was not surprising that the general public succumbed to the excitement. However, not everyone did. Several members of Francis Nurse’s family, including Peter Cloyse and his wife, and Joseph Putnam, expressed their disapproval of such behaviors being tolerated and chose not to attend the meeting. Others may have done the same; but those who did were marked, as the following events will reveal.

In the mean while the excitement was worked up to the highest pitch. The families to which several of the "afflicted children" belonged were led to apply themselves to fasting and prayer, on which occasions the neighbors, under the guidance of the minister, would assemble, and unite in invocations to the Divine Being to interpose and deliver them from the snares and dominion of Satan. The "afflicted children" who might be present would not, as a general thing, interrupt the prayers while in progress, but would break out with their wild outcries and convulsive spasms in the intervals of the service. In due time, Mr. Parris sent for the neighboring ministers to assemble at his house, and unite with him in devoting a day to solemn religious services and earnest supplications to the throne of Mercy for rescue from the power of the great enemy of souls. The ministers spent the day in Mr. Parris's house, and the children performed their feats before their eyes. The reverend gentlemen were astounded at what they saw, fully corroborated the opinion of Dr. Griggs, and formally declared their belief that the Evil One had commenced his operations with a bolder front and[ii.10] on a broader scale than ever before in this or any other country.

Meanwhile, the excitement reached its peak. The families of several of the "afflicted children" decided to focus on fasting and prayer. During these times, neighbors, led by the minister, would gather to join in prayers to God, asking for help and protection from the traps and control of Satan. The "afflicted children" present generally didn't interrupt the prayers but would often break into wild screams and convulsions in between. Eventually, Mr. Parris called for the nearby ministers to come to his house to dedicate a day to serious religious services and heartfelt prayers for deliverance from the influence of the great enemy of souls. The ministers spent the day at Mr. Parris's house, where the children displayed their antics in front of them. The ministers were shocked by what they witnessed, fully supported Dr. Griggs's assessment, and formally declared their belief that the Evil One had begun his activities with a more aggressive approach and[ii.10] on a larger scale than ever before in this or any other country.

This judgment of the ministers was quickly made known everywhere; and, if doubt remained in any mind, it was suppressed by the irresistible power of an overwhelming public conviction. Individuals were lost in the universal fanaticism. Society was dissolved into a wild and excited crowd. Men and women left their fields, their houses, their labors and employments, to witness the awful unveiling of the demoniac power, and to behold the workings of Satan himself upon the victims of his wrath.

This judgment from the ministers spread quickly everywhere; and if anyone had doubts, they were silenced by the strong force of widespread public belief. Individuals got swept up in the collective fervor. Society broke down into a chaotic and passionate crowd. Men and women abandoned their fields, homes, jobs, and responsibilities to witness the terrifying display of evil power and to see the effects of Satan himself on those suffering his wrath.

It must be borne in mind, that it was then an established doctrine in theology, philosophy, and law, that the Devil could not operate upon mortals, or mortal affairs, except through the intermediate instrumentality of human beings in confederacy with him, that is, witches or wizards. The question, of course, in all minds and on all tongues, was, "Who are the agents of the Devil in afflicting these girls? There must be some among us thus acting, and who are they?" For some time the girls held back from mentioning names; or, if they did, it was prevented from being divulged to the public. In the mean time, the excitement spread and deepened. At length the people had become so thoroughly prepared for the work, that it was concluded to begin operations in earnest. The continued pressure upon the "afflicted children," the earnest and importunate inquiry, on all sides, "Who is it that bewitches you?" opened their lips in response, and[ii.11] they began to select and bring forward their victims. One after another, they cried out "Good," "Osburn," "Tituba." On the 29th of February, 1692, warrants were duly issued against those persons. It is observable, that the complainants who procured the warrants in these cases were Joseph Hutchinson, Edward Putnam, Thomas Putnam, and Thomas Preston. This fact shows how nearly unanimous, at this time, was the conviction that the sufferings of the girls were the result of witchcraft. Joseph Hutchinson was a firm-minded man, of strong common sense, and from his general character and ways of thinking and acting, one of the last persons liable to be carried away by a popular enthusiasm, and was found among the earliest rescued from it. Thomas Preston was a son-in-law of Francis Nurse.

It should be remembered that it was known in theology, philosophy, and law that the Devil could only affect humans or their affairs through the involvement of people working with him, specifically witches or wizards. Naturally, everyone was asking, "Who are the Devil's agents causing these girls' suffering? There must be someone among us; who could they be?" For a while, the girls hesitated to name names, or if they did, it was kept from the public. Meanwhile, the excitement continued to grow. Eventually, the community was so ready for action that they decided to take things seriously. The ongoing pressure on the "afflicted children" and the desperate inquiries from all sides, "Who is bewitching you?" prompted them to speak up, and they began to point out their victims. One by one, they shouted "Good," "Osburn," "Tituba." On February 29, 1692, warrants were officially issued for these individuals. It's notable that the people who requested these warrants were Joseph Hutchinson, Edward Putnam, Thomas Putnam, and Thomas Preston. This illustrates how nearly everyone at the time believed that the girls' misfortunes were due to witchcraft. Joseph Hutchinson was a strong-minded individual with good judgment, and given his character, he was one of the last people likely to be swept up in a popular frenzy; he was also among the first to break free from it. Thomas Preston was Francis Nurse's son-in-law.

As all was ripe for the development of the plot, extraordinary means were taken to give publicity, notoriety, and effect to the first examinations. On the 1st of March the two leading magistrates of the neighborhood, men of great note and influence, whose fathers had been among the chief founders of the settlement, and who were Assistants,—that is, members of the highest legislative and judicial body in the colony, combining with the functions of a senate those of a court of last resort with most comprehensive jurisdiction,—John Hathorne and Jonathan Corwin, entered the village, in imposing array, escorted by the marshal, constables, and their aids, with all the trappings of their offices; reined up at Nathaniel In[ii.12]gersoll's corner, and dismounted at his door. The whole population of the neighborhood, apprised of the occasion, was gathered on the lawn, or came flocking along the roads. The crowd was so great that it was necessary to adjourn to the meeting-house, which was filled at once by a multitude excited to the highest pitch of indignation and abhorrence towards the prisoners, and of curiosity to witness the novel and imposing spectacle and proceedings. The magistrates took seats in front of the pulpit, facing the assembly; a long table or raised platform being placed before them; and it was announced, that they were ready to enter upon the examination. On bringing in and delivering over the accused parties, the officers who had executed the warrants stated that they "had made diligent search for images and such like, but could find none." After prayer, Constable George Locker produced the body of Sarah Good; and Constable Joseph Herrick, the bodies of Sarah Osburn, and Tituba Mr. Parris's Indian woman. The evidence seems to indicate, that, on these occasions, the prisoners were placed on the platform, to keep them from the contact of the general crowd, and that all might see them.

As everything was ready for the plot to unfold, unusual measures were taken to draw attention, notoriety, and impact to the initial hearings. On March 1st, the two leading magistrates of the area, notable and influential men whose fathers were among the main founders of the settlement, and who were Assistants—members of the highest legislative and judicial body in the colony, combining the roles of a senate and a court of last resort with extensive authority—John Hathorne and Jonathan Corwin, entered the village in a grand manner, accompanied by the marshal, constables, and their aides, with all the symbols of their offices. They stopped at Nathaniel Ingersoll's corner and got off their horses at his door. The entire local population, aware of the event, had gathered on the lawn or was streaming along the roads. The crowd was so large that it became necessary to move to the meeting house, which quickly filled with a multitude stirred up to a high level of anger and disgust towards the accused, as well as curiosity to witness the unusual and impressive event and proceedings. The magistrates took their seats in front of the pulpit, facing the crowd, with a long table or raised platform placed before them; it was announced that they were ready to begin the examination. When the accused individuals were brought in and handed over, the officers who executed the warrants stated that they "had made a thorough search for images and such things, but found none." After a prayer, Constable George Locker presented the body of Sarah Good, while Constable Joseph Herrick brought in the bodies of Sarah Osburn and Tituba, Mr. Parris's Indian woman. The evidence suggests that, on these occasions, the prisoners were placed on the platform to keep them away from the general crowd so that everyone could see them.

Sarah Good was first examined, the other two being removed from the house for the time. In complaining of her, and bringing her forward first, the prosecutors showed that they were well advised. There was a general readiness to receive the charge against her, as she was evidently the object of much prejudice in the neighborhood. Her husband, who was a weak,[ii.13] ignorant, and dependent person, had become alienated from her. The family were very poor; and she and her children had sometimes been without a house to shelter them, and left to wander from door to door for relief. Whether justly or not, she appears to have been subject to general obloquy. Probably there was no one in the country around, against whom popular suspicion could have been more readily directed, or in whose favor and defence less interest could be awakened. She was a forlorn, friendless, and forsaken creature, broken down by wretchedness of condition and ill-repute. The following are the minutes of her examination, as found among the files:—

Sarah Good was the first to be examined, while the other two were taken out of the house for the moment. By complaining about her and bringing her forward first, the prosecutors showed they were strategic. There was a widespread willingness to accept the accusations against her, as she was clearly the target of a lot of bias in the neighborhood. Her husband, who was weak, ignorant, and dependent, had grown distant from her. The family was very poor, and she and her children had at times been without a home, having to go from door to door for help. Whether rightly or wrongly, she seemed to be the subject of general disgrace. Likely, there was no one in the surrounding area against whom public suspicion could have been more easily directed, or for whom there was less interest in offering support or defense. She was a hopeless, friendless, and abandoned individual, broken down by a miserable situation and bad reputation. The following are the minutes of her examination, as found among the files:—

"The Examination of Sarah Good before the Worshipful Esqrs. John Hathorne and Jonathan Corwin.

The Examination of Sarah Good before the Honorable John Hathorne and Jonathan Corwin.

"Sarah Good, what evil spirit have you familiarity with?—None.

"Sarah Good, what evil spirit are you in contact with?—None."

"Have you made no contracts with the Devil?—No.

"Have you made any deals with the Devil?—No."

"Why do you hurt these children?—I do not hurt them. I scorn it.

"Why are you hurting these kids?" — "I don’t hurt them. I despise it."

"Who do you employ then to do it?—I employ nobody.

"Who do you hire to do it?"—"I don't hire anyone."

"What creature do you employ then?—No creature: but I am falsely accused.

"What creature are you using then?—No creature: I'm just being wrongly accused."

"Why did you go away muttering from Mr. Parris his house?—I did not mutter, but I thanked him for what he gave my child.

"Why did you leave Mr. Parris's house mumbling to yourself?—I didn't mumble, but I thanked him for what he gave my child."

"Have you made no contract with the Devil?—No.

"Have you made a deal with the Devil?"—No.

"Hathorne desired the children all of them to look upon her, and see if this were the person that hurt them; and so they all did look upon her, and said this was one of the persons that did torment them. Presently they were all tormented.[ii.14]

"Hathorne wanted all the children to look at her and see if she was the one who hurt them. They all looked at her and said she was one of the people who tormented them. Right away, they were all tormented.[ii.14]

"Sarah Good, do you not see now what you have done? Why do you not tell us the truth? Why do you thus torment these poor children?—I do not torment them.

"Sarah Good, do you not see now what you have done? Why don’t you tell us the truth? Why are you tormenting these poor children?—I am not tormenting them."

"Who do you employ then?—I employ nobody. I scorn it.

"Who do you hire then?—I don’t hire anyone. I look down on it."

"How came they thus tormented?—What do I know? You bring others here, and now you charge me with it.

"How did they end up so tormented?—What do I know? You brought others here, and now you're accusing me."

"Why, who was it?—I do not know but it was some you brought into the meeting-house with you.

"Who was it? I don't know, but it was someone you brought into the meeting house with you."

"We brought you into the meeting-house.—But you brought in two more.

"We brought you into the meeting house. But you brought in two more."

"Who was it, then, that tormented the children?—It was Osburn.

"Who was it that tormented the children?—It was Osburn."

"What is it you say when you go muttering away from persons' houses?—If I must tell, I will tell.

"What do you say when you mumble your way out of someone's house?—If I have to say it, I will say it."

"Do tell us then.—If I must tell, I will tell: it is the Commandments. I may say my Commandments, I hope.

"Go ahead and tell us then.—If I have to share, I will share: it is the Commandments. I hope I can refer to them as my Commandments."

"What Commandment is it?—If I must tell you, I will tell: it is a psalm.

"What Commandment is it?—If I have to tell you, I will tell: it is a psalm."

"What psalm?

"Which psalm?"

"(After a long time she muttered over some part of a psalm.)

"(After a long time she murmured a bit of a psalm.)"

"Who do you serve?—I serve God.

"Who do you serve?—I serve God."

"What God do you serve?—The God that made heaven and earth (though she was not willing to mention the word 'God'). Her answers were in a very wicked, spiteful manner, reflecting and retorting against the authority with base and abusive words; and many lies she was taken in. It was here said that her husband had said that he was afraid that she either was a witch or would be one very quickly. The worshipful Mr. Hathorne, asked him his reason why he[ii.15] said so of her, whether he had ever seen any thing by her. He answered 'No, not in this nature; but it was her bad carriage to him: and indeed,' said he, 'I may say with tears, that she is an enemy to all good.'"

"What God do you serve?—The God who created heaven and earth (even though she didn't want to say the word 'God'). Her responses were very wicked and spiteful, pushing back against authority with cruel and abusive language, and she got caught in many lies. It was said that her husband claimed he was afraid that she was either a witch or would become one very soon. The respected Mr. Hathorne asked him why he said that about her, and whether he had ever seen anything that confirmed it. He replied, 'No, not in this way; but it was her bad behavior towards me: and truly,' he said, 'I can say with tears that she is an enemy to all that is good.'"

The foregoing is in the handwriting of Ezekiel Cheever. The following is in that of John Hathorne:—

The previous text is written in the handwriting of Ezekiel Cheever. The next part is in the handwriting of John Hathorne:—

"Salem Village, March the 1st, 1692.—Sarah Good, upon examination, denied the matter of fact (viz.) that she ever used any witchcraft, or hurt the abovesaid children, or any of them.

"Salem Village, March 1, 1692.—Sarah Good, when questioned, denied the charges (that is) that she ever practiced witchcraft or harmed the aforementioned children, or any of them."

"The abovenamed children, being all present, positively accused her of hurting of them sundry times within this two months, and also that morning. Sarah Good denied that she had been at their houses in said time or near them, or had done them any hurt. All the abovesaid children then present accused her face to face; upon which they were all dreadfully tortured and tormented for a short space of time; and, the affliction and tortures being over, they charged said Sarah Good again that she had then so tortured them, and came to them and did it, although she was personally then kept at a considerable distance from them.

The children mentioned earlier, all present, firmly accused her of hurting them several times over the past two months, including that morning. Sarah Good denied being at their homes during that time or causing them any harm. All the children present then confronted her directly; as a result, they all experienced severe distress and torment for a brief period. Once the suffering and torment subsided, they again accused Sarah Good of having tortured them, saying she had approached them and done so, even though she was physically kept at a significant distance from them at the time.

"Sarah Good being asked if that she did not then hurt them, who did it; and the children being again tortured, she looked upon them, and said that it was one of them we brought into the house with us. We asked her who it was: she then answered, and said it was Sarah Osburn, and Sarah Osburn was then under custody, and not in the house; and the children, being quickly after recovered out of their fit, said that it was Sarah Good and also Sarah Osburn that then did hurt and torment or afflict them, although both of them at the same time at a distance[ii.16] or remote from them personally. There were also sundry other questions put to her, and answers given thereunto by her according as is also given in."

"Sarah Good was asked if she didn't hurt them, then who did; and as the children were tortured again, she looked at them and said it was one of the people we brought into the house with us. We asked her who it was, and she answered that it was Sarah Osburn. At that time, Sarah Osburn was in custody and not in the house. After the children quickly recovered from their fit, they said that it was Sarah Good and also Sarah Osburn who hurt and tormented them, even though both of them were distant or remote from them at that moment[ii.16]. There were also several other questions asked of her, and she provided answers accordingly."

It will be noticed that the examination was conducted in the form of questions put by the magistrate, Hathorne, based upon a foregone conclusion of the prisoner's guilt, and expressive of a conviction, all along on his part, that the evidence of "the afflicted" against her amounted to, and was, absolute demonstration. It will also be noticed, that, severe as was the opinion of her husband in reference to her general conduct, he could not be made to say that he had ever noticed any thing in her of the nature of witchcraft. The torments the girls affected to experience in looking at her must have produced an overwhelming effect on the crowd, as they did on the magistrate, and even on the poor, amazed creature herself. She did not seem to doubt the reality of their sufferings. In this, and in all cases, it must be remembered that the account of the examination comes to us from those who were under the wildest excitement against the prisoners; that no counsel was allowed them; that, if any thing was suffered to be said in their defence by others, it has failed to reach us; that the accused persons were wholly unaccustomed to such scenes and exposures, unsuspicious of the perils of a cross-examination, or of an inquisition conducted with a design to entrap and ensnare; and that what they did say was liable to be misunderstood, as well as misrepresented. We cannot hear their story. All we know is from parties[ii.17] prejudiced, to the highest degree, against them. Sarah Good was an unfortunate and miserable woman in her circumstances and condition: but, from all that appears on the record, making due allowance for the credulity, extravagance, prejudice, folly, or malignity of the witnesses; giving full effect to every thing that can claim the character of substantial force alleged against her, it is undeniable, that there was not, beyond the afflicted girls, a particle of evidence to sustain the charge on which she was arraigned; and that, in the worst aspect of her case, she was an object for compassion, rather than punishment. Altogether, the proceedings against her, which terminated with her execution, were cruel and shameful to the highest degree.

It’s clear that the examination was carried out through questions from the magistrate, Hathorne, who had already decided the prisoner was guilty. He was convinced from the start that the evidence from "the afflicted" was undeniable proof against her. It’s also worth noting that, despite his harsh views about her overall behavior, her husband couldn’t bring himself to say he’d ever seen anything in her that suggested witchcraft. The distress the girls pretended to feel when they looked at her must have had a huge impact on the crowd, the magistrate, and even on the bewildered woman herself. She didn’t seem to doubt their suffering was genuine. It’s important to remember that the accounts of the examination come from people who were extremely biased against the prisoners; that no legal representation was allowed; that anything said in their defense by others wasn’t recorded; that the accused were completely unprepared for such situations and unaware of the risks of cross-examination or an inquiry meant to trap them; and that what they did say could easily be misinterpreted or misrepresented. We can’t hear their side of the story. All we know comes from parties[ii.17] who were very biased against them. Sarah Good was a deeply unfortunate and miserable woman given her circumstances. However, based on everything in the records, taking into account the gullibility, irrationality, biases, stupidity, or malice of the witnesses, and giving weight to anything that could be considered substantial evidence against her, it’s clear that aside from the afflicted girls, there was no real evidence to support the accusations she faced; and at her worst, she deserved compassion rather than punishment. Overall, the actions taken against her, which ended in her execution, were extremely cruel and shameful.

On the conclusion of her examination, she was removed from the meeting-house, and Sarah Osburn brought in. Her selection, as one of the persons to be first cried out upon, was judicious. The public mind was prepared to believe the charge against her. Her original name was Sarah Warren. She was married, April 5, 1662, to Robert Prince, who belonged to a leading family, and owned a valuable farm. He died early, leaving her with two young children, James and Joseph.

At the end of her examination, she was taken out of the meeting house, and Sarah Osburn was brought in. Choosing her as one of the first to be accused was a smart move. The public was ready to accept the charges against her. Her original name was Sarah Warren. She got married on April 5, 1662, to Robert Prince, who came from a prominent family and owned a valuable farm. He died young, leaving her with two small children, James and Joseph.

In the early colonial period, it was the custom for persons who desired to come from the old country to America, but had not the means to defray the expenses of the passage, to let or sell themselves, for a greater or less length of time, to individuals residing here who needed their service. The practice continued[ii.18] down to the present century. Emigrants who thus sold themselves for a period of years were called "redemptioners." Alexander Osburn came over from Ireland in this character. The widow of Robert Prince bought out the residue of his time from the person to whom he was thus under contract, for fifteen pounds, and employed him to carry on her farm. After a while, she married him. This, it is probable, gave rise to some criticism; and, as her boys grew up, became more and more disagreeable to them. The marriage, as was natural, led to unhappy results. In 1720, after Osburn had been dead some years, a curious case was brought into court, in which the sons of Robert Prince testified that Osburn treated their mother and them with great cruelty and barbarity. They had become of age before their mother's death, and had signed their names to a deed conveying away land belonging to their patrimony. The object of the suit was to invalidate the conveyance by proving that they were compelled by Osburn to sign the deed, he using threats and violence upon them at the time. There was an extraordinary conflict of testimony in the trial; some witnesses strongly corroborating the accusations of the Princes, and some equally strong in vindication of the character of Osburn. It was shown, that, in the opinion of several of his neighbors, he was an industrious, respectable, and worthy person. It is difficult to determine the precise merits of the case. After the death of his wife, Osburn married Ruth, a daughter of William Cantlebury, and widow of William Sibley.[ii.19] She was a woman of unquestioned excellence of character, and of a large landed estate. Osburn was her third husband, the first having been Thomas Small. After her marriage to Osburn, he and she joined the church, and were reputable persons in all respects. He was well regarded as a citizen, and often on the parish committee. Neither he nor the widow Sibley appear to have been implicated in the witchcraft proceedings in any other particular than that he testified that his then wife Sarah had not been for some time at meeting. There is no indication that this was volunteer testimony. He and his wife Ruth were among the firmest opponents of Mr. Parris. There is no mention of his having had children by either of his American wives. His son John, who probably came with him to the country, was an inhabitant of the Village; and his name is on the rate-list, for the last time, in 1718, his father having died some years before. The Osborne family, in this part of the country, does not appear to have sprung from this source.

In the early colonial period, it was common for people who wanted to come from the old country to America but couldn't afford the passage to let or sell themselves for a certain period to individuals living here who needed their labor. This practice continued[ii.18] into this century. Emigrants who sold themselves for a number of years were called "redemptioners." Alexander Osburn arrived from Ireland in this capacity. The widow of Robert Prince bought out the remainder of his contract from the person he was working for, paying fifteen pounds, and hired him to help run her farm. Eventually, she married him. This likely led to some criticism and, as her sons grew up, it became increasingly uncomfortable for them. Naturally, the marriage resulted in unhappy circumstances. In 1720, a few years after Osburn had died, a peculiar case was brought to court where the sons of Robert Prince testified that Osburn had treated their mother and them with great cruelty and harshness. They had reached adulthood before their mother's death and had signed a deed transferring their inheritance. The aim of the lawsuit was to overturn the conveyance by proving that Osburn had forced them to sign the deed using threats and violence. The trial had a remarkable conflict of testimonies; some witnesses strongly supported the Princes' accusations, while others equally defended Osburn's character. It was shown that, according to several neighbors, he was considered a hardworking, respectable, and worthy person. It's hard to determine the exact merits of the case. After his wife's death, Osburn married Ruth, the daughter of William Cantlebury and widow of William Sibley.[ii.19] She was known for her excellent character and owned a large estate. Osburn was her third husband; her first was Thomas Small. After marrying Osburn, they both joined the church and were regarded as reputable individuals in all aspects. He was well-respected as a citizen and often served on the parish committee. Neither he nor the widow Sibley seemed to be involved in the witchcraft cases except that he testified that his then-wife Sarah hadn't been to church for some time. There’s no indication that this was unsolicited testimony. He and his wife Ruth were among the strongest opponents of Mr. Parris. There's no mention of him having children with either of his American wives. His son John, who likely came to America with him, lived in the Village, and his name appeared on the tax list for the last time in 1718, several years after his father's death. The Osborne family in this area does not seem to have originated from this source.

Without attempting to decide where, or in what proportions, the blame is to be laid, the fact is evident, that the marriage of the widow Sarah Prince to Alexander Osburn was an unhappy one. Her mind became depressed, if not distracted. For some time, she had been bedridden. Of course, as she had occupied a respectable social position, and was a woman of property, her case naturally gave rise to scandal. Rumor was busy and gossip rife in reference to her; and it was quite natural that she should have been suggested[ii.20] for the accusing girls to pitch upon. The following is an account of her examination by the magistrates, in the handwriting of John Hathorne:—

Without trying to determine where or how much blame should be assigned, it’s clear that the marriage between the widow Sarah Prince and Alexander Osburn was an unhappy one. Her mental state grew gloomy, if not unstable. For a while, she had been confined to her bed. Naturally, since she held a respectable social position and was a woman of means, her situation attracted scandal. Rumors were circulating, and gossip was widespread about her; it was only natural that she would be chosen by the accusing girls. The following is an account of her examination by the magistrates, in the handwriting of John Hathorne:—

"Sarah Osburne, upon examination, denied the matter of fact, viz., that she ever understood or used any witchcraft, or hurt any of the abovesaid children.

"Sarah Osburne, when questioned, denied the fact that she ever understood or used any witchcraft, or harmed any of the children mentioned above."

"The children above named, being all personally present, accused her face to face; which, being done, they were all hurt, afflicted, and tortured very much; which, being over, and they out of their fits, they said that said Sarah Osburne did then come to them, and hurt them, Sarah Osburne being then kept at a distance personally from them. Sarah Osburne was asked why she then hurt them. She denied it. It being asked of her how she could so pinch and hurt them, and yet she be at that distance personally from them, she answered she did not then hurt them, nor ever did. She was asked who, then, did it, or who she employed to do it. She answered she did not know that the Devil goes about in her likeness to do any hurt. Sarah Osburne, being told that Sarah Good, one of her companions, had, upon examination, accused her, she, notwithstanding, denied the same, according to her examination, which is more at large given in, as therein will appear."

The children mentioned above, all present, confronted her directly; after doing so, they were all hurt, upset, and in great distress. Once the situation calmed down and they recovered, they said that Sarah Osburne had approached them and harmed them, even though she was kept at a distance from them. When asked why she hurt them, Sarah Osburne denied it. When questioned about how she could pinch and hurt them while being so far away, she claimed she didn’t hurt them then and never had. She was asked who did it or who she sent to do it. She replied that she didn’t know, but that the Devil could take her form to cause harm. When told that Sarah Good, one of her associates, had accused her during questioning, she still denied it, consistent with her earlier statement, which will be provided in more detail in the following sections.

The following is in the handwriting of Ezekiel Cheever:—

The following is in the handwriting of Ezekiel Cheever:—

"Sarah Osburn her Examination.

"Sarah Osburn's Examination."

"What evil spirit have you familiarity with?—None.

"What evil spirit are you familiar with?"—None.

"Have you made no contract with the Devil?—No: I never saw the Devil in my life.

"Have you made a deal with the Devil?"—No: I've never seen the Devil in my life.

"Why do you hurt these children?—I do not hurt them.[ii.21]

"Why are you hurting these kids?—I'm not hurting them.[ii.21]

"Who do you employ, then, to hurt them?—I employ nobody.

"Who do you hire, then, to hurt them?—I don’t hire anyone."

"What familiarity have you with Sarah Good?—None: I have not seen her these two years.

"What do you know about Sarah Good?—Nothing: I haven't seen her in two years."

"Where did you see her then?—One day, agoing to town.

"Where did you see her then?—One day, on my way to town."

"What communications had you with her?—I had none, only 'How do you do?' or so. I do not know her by name.

"What communication did you have with her?—I had none, just a 'How do you do?' or something like that. I don't know her by name."

"What did you call her, then?

"What did you call her, then?"

"(Osburn made a stand at that; at last, said she called her Sarah.)

"(Osburn took a stand on that; finally, she said she called her Sarah.)"

"Sarah Good saith that it was you that hurt the children.—I do not know that the Devil goes about in my likeness to do any hurt.

"Sarah Good says that it was you who hurt the children.—I don't know if the Devil goes around looking like me to cause any harm."

"Mr. Hathorne desired all the children to stand up, and look upon her, and see if they did know her, which they all did; and every one of them said that this was one of the women that did afflict them, and that they had constantly seen her in the very habit that she was now in. Three evidences declared that she said this morning, that she was more like to be bewitched than that she was a witch. Mr. Hathorne asked her what made her say so. She answered that she was frighted one time in her sleep, and either saw, or dreamed that she saw, a thing like an Indian all black, which did pinch her in her neck, and pulled her by the back part of her head to the door of the house.

"Mr. Hathorne asked all the children to stand up, look at her, and see if they recognized her, which they all did. Each of them said that this was one of the women who had harmed them, and that they had always seen her in the same outfit she was wearing now. Three witnesses stated that she claimed this morning that she was more likely to be bewitched than to be a witch. Mr. Hathorne asked her why she said that. She replied that she was frightened once in her sleep and either saw, or dreamed that she saw, a figure like a black Indian, which pinched her on the neck and pulled her by the back of her head to the door of the house."

"Did you never see any thing else?—No.

"Have you ever seen anything else?—No."

"(It was said by some in the meeting-house, that she had said that she would never believe that lying spirit any more.)

"(Some people in the meeting house said that she claimed she would never trust that lying spirit again.)"

"What lying spirit is this? Hath the Devil ever deceived you, and been false to you?—I do not know the Devil. I never did see him.[ii.22]

"What kind of lying spirit is this? Has the Devil ever tricked you or let you down?—I don't know the Devil. I've never seen him.[ii.22]

"What lying spirit was it, then?—It was a voice that I thought I heard.

"What lying spirit was it, then?—It was a voice that I thought I heard."

"What did it propound to you?—That I should go no more to meeting; but I said I would, and did go the next sabbath-day.

"What did it suggest to you?—That I should stop attending meetings; but I said I would, and I went the next Sunday."

"Were you never tempted further?—No.

"Were you never tempted more?—No.

"Why did you yield thus far to the Devil as never to go to meeting since?—Alas! I have been sick, and not able to go.

"Why have you given in to the Devil to the point that you haven’t gone to church since?—I’m sorry! I’ve been sick and couldn’t go."

"Her husband and others said that she had not been at meeting three years and two months."

"Her husband and others said that she hadn't been to the meeting in three years and two months."

The foregoing illustrates the unfairness practised by the examining magistrate. He took for granted, as we shall find to have been the case in all instances, the guilt of the prisoner, and endeavored to entangle her by leading questions, thus involving her in contradiction. By the force of his own assumptions, he had compelled Sarah Good to admit the reality of the sufferings of the girls, and that they must be caused by some one. The amount of what she had said was, that, if caused by one or the other of them, "then it must be Osburn," for she was sure of her own innocence. This expression, to which she was driven in self-exculpation, was perverted by the reporter, Ezekiel Cheever, and by the magistrate, into an indirect confession and a direct accusation of Osburn. In the absence of Good, the magistrate told Osburn that Good had confessed and accused her. This was a misrepresentation of one, and a false and fraudulent trick upon the other. Considering the feeble condition of Sarah Osburn generally, the snares by which she[ii.23] was beset, the distressing and bewildering circumstances in which she was placed, and the infirm state of her reason, as evidenced in her statement of what she saw, or dreamed that she saw and heard,—not having a clear idea which,—her answers, as reported by the prosecutors, show that her broken and disordered mind was essentially truthful and innocent.

The above shows the unfairness practiced by the examining magistrate. He assumed, as we will see was the case in every instance, that the prisoner was guilty, and tried to trap her with leading questions, pushing her into contradictions. Through his own assumptions, he forced Sarah Good to acknowledge the reality of the girls' suffering, insisting that it had to be caused by someone. What she said was that if it was caused by one of them, "then it must be Osburn," because she was certain of her own innocence. This statement, which she made to defend herself, was twisted by the reporter, Ezekiel Cheever, and the magistrate, into an indirect confession and a direct accusation against Osburn. In Good's absence, the magistrate told Osburn that Good had confessed and accused her. This was a misrepresentation of one and a deceitful trick on the other. Considering Sarah Osburn's generally weak condition, the traps she was caught in, the distressing and confusing situation she faced, and her frail mental state, as shown in her account of what she saw, or thought she saw and heard—without having a clear idea which—her responses, as reported by the prosecutors, indicate that her broken and disordered mind was fundamentally honest and innocent.

Sarah Osburn was removed from the meeting-house, and Tituba brought in and examined, as follows:—

Sarah Osburn was taken out of the meeting house, and Tituba was brought in and questioned, as follows:—

"Tituba, what evil spirit have you familiarity with?—None.

"Tituba, which evil spirit are you familiar with?—None."

"Why do you hurt these children?—I do not hurt them.

"Why are you hurting these kids?—I’m not hurting them."

"Who is it then?—The Devil, for aught I know.

"Who is it then?—The Devil, for all I know."

"Did you never see the Devil?—The Devil came to me, and bid me serve him.

"Have you never seen the Devil?—The Devil came to me and asked me to serve him."

"Who have you seen?—Four women sometimes hurt the children.

"Who have you seen?—Four women sometimes hurt the kids."

"Who were they?—Goody Osburn and Sarah Good, and I do not know who the others were. Sarah Good and Osburn would have me hurt the children, but I would not.

"Who were they?—Goody Osburn and Sarah Good, and I don’t know who the others were. Sarah Good and Osburn wanted me to harm the kids, but I refused."

"(She further saith there was a tall man of Boston that she did see.)

"(She also says there was a tall man from Boston that she saw.)"

"When did you see them?—Last night, at Boston.

"When did you see them?—Last night, in Boston."

"What did they say to you?—They said, 'Hurt the children.'

"What did they say to you?—They said, 'Hurt the kids.'"

"And did you hurt them?—No: there is four women and one man, they hurt the children, and then they lay all upon me; and they tell me, if I will not hurt the children, they will hurt me.[ii.24]

"And did you hurt them?—No: there are four women and one man, they hurt the children, and then they blame it all on me; and they tell me that if I don’t hurt the children, they will hurt me.[ii.24]

"But did you not hurt them?—Yes; but I will hurt them no more.

"But didn't you hurt them?—Yes; but I won't hurt them again."

"Are you not sorry that you did hurt them?—Yes.

"Do you not feel bad for hurting them?—Yes."

"And why, then, do you hurt them?—They say, 'Hurt children, or we will do worse to you.'

"And why, then, do you hurt them?—They say, 'Hurt kids, or we'll do worse to you.'"

"What have you seen?—A man come to me, and say, 'Serve me.'

"What have you seen?—A man came to me and said, 'Serve me.'"

"What service?—Hurt the children: and last night there was an appearance that said, 'Kill the children;' and, if I would not go on hurting the children, they would do worse to me.

"What service?—Hurt the kids: and last night there was a presence that said, 'Kill the kids;' and if I didn't keep hurting the kids, they would do worse to me."

"What is this appearance you see?—Sometimes it is like a hog, and sometimes like a great dog.

"What do you see? Sometimes it looks like a pig, and other times like a big dog."

"(This appearance she saith she did see four times.)

(This appearance she says she saw four times.)

"What did it say to you?—The black dog said, 'Serve me;' but I said, 'I am afraid.' He said, if I did not, he would do worse to me.

"What did it say to you?—The black dog said, 'Serve me;' but I said, 'I’m afraid.' He said that if I didn’t, he would do worse to me."

"What did you say to it?—I will serve you no longer. Then he said he would hurt me; and then he looks like a man, and threatens to hurt me. (She said that this man had a yellow-bird that kept with him.) And he told me he had more pretty things that he would give me, if I would serve him.

"What did you say to it?—I won’t serve you anymore. Then he said he would harm me; and then he appears serious and threatens to hurt me. (She mentioned that this man had a yellow bird that stayed with him.) And he told me he had more nice things that he would give me if I agreed to serve him."

"What were these pretty things?—He did not show me them.

"What were these nice things?—He didn't show them to me."

"What else have you seen?—Two cats; a red cat, and a black cat.

"What else have you seen?—Two cats; a red cat and a black cat."

"What did they say to you?—They said, 'Serve me.'

"What did they tell you?—They said, 'Serve me.'"

"When did you see them?—Last night; and they said, 'Serve me;' but I said I would not.

"When did you see them?—Last night; and they said, 'Serve me;' but I said I wouldn't."

"What service?—She said, hurt the children.[ii.25]

"What service?—She said, hurt the children.[ii.25]

"Did you not pinch Elizabeth Hubbard this morning?—The man brought her to me, and made pinch her.

"Did you not pinch Elizabeth Hubbard this morning?—The guy brought her to me and made her pinch."

"Why did you go to Thomas Putnam's last night, and hurt his child?—They pull and haul me, and make go.

"Why did you go to Thomas Putnam's place last night and hurt his kid?—They drag me around and force me to go."

"And what would they have you do?—Kill her with a knife.

"And what do they want you to do?—Stab her with a knife."

"(Lieutenant Fuller and others said at this time, when the child saw these persons, and was tormented by them, that she did complain of a knife,—that they would have her cut her head off with a knife.)

"(Lieutenant Fuller and others said at this time, when the child saw these people and was tormented by them, that she did complain of a knife,—that they would have her cut her head off with a knife.)"

"How did you go?—We ride upon sticks, and are there presently.

"How did you get there?—We ride on sticks and arrive immediately."

"Do you go through the trees or over them?—We see nothing, but are there presently.

"Do you go through the trees or over them?—We see nothing, but are there right now."

"Why did you not tell your master?—I was afraid: they said they would cut off my head if I told.

"Why didn't you tell your boss?—I was scared: they said they would chop off my head if I did."

"Would you not have hurt others, if you could?—They said they would hurt others, but they could not.

"Wouldn't you have hurt others if you could?—They said they would hurt others, but they couldn't."

"What attendants hath Sarah Good?—A yellow-bird, and she would have given me one.

"What guests does Sarah Good have?—A yellow bird, and she would have given me one."

"What meat did she give it?—It did suck her between her fingers.

"What meat did she give it?—It did suck her between her fingers."

"Did you not hurt Mr. Curren's child?—Goody Good and Goody Osburn told that they did hurt Mr. Curren's child, and would have had me hurt him too; but I did not.

"Did you not hurt Mr. Curren's child? Goody Good and Goody Osburn said that they hurt Mr. Curren's child and wanted me to hurt him as well; but I didn't."

"What hath Sarah Osburn?—Yesterday she had a thing with a head like a woman, with two legs and wings.

"What does Sarah Osburn have?—Yesterday, she had something with a head like a woman's, with two legs and wings."

"(Abigail Williams, that lives with her uncle Mr. Parris, said that she did see the same creature, and it turned into the shape of Goodie Osburn.)

"(Abigail Williams, who lives with her uncle Mr. Parris, said that she saw the same creature, and it changed into the shape of Goodie Osburn.)"

"What else have you seen with Osburn?—Another thing, hairy: it goes upright like a man, it hath only two legs.[ii.26]

"What else have you seen with Osburn?—Another thing, hairy: it walks on two legs like a person.[ii.26]

"Did you not see Sarah Good upon Elizabeth Hubbard, last Saturday?—I did see her set a wolf upon her to afflict her.

"Did you not see Sarah Good attack Elizabeth Hubbard last Saturday?—I saw her send a wolf to hurt her."

"(The persons with this maid did say that she did complain of a wolf. She further said that she saw a cat with Good at another time.)

"(The people with this maid said that she complained about a wolf. She also mentioned that she saw a cat with God at another time.)"

"What clothes doth the man go in?—He goes in black clothes; a tall man, with white hair, I think.

"What clothes does the man wear?—He wears black clothes; a tall man, with white hair, I think."

"How doth the woman go?—In a white hood, and a black hood with a top-knot.

"How does the woman go?—In a white hood and a black hood with a top-knot."

"Do you see who it is that torments these children now?—Yes: it is Goody Good; she hurts them in her own shape.

"Do you see who's tormenting these kids now?—Yeah: it's Goody Good; she's hurting them in her own form."

"Who is it that hurts them now?—I am blind now: I cannot see.

"Who is it that hurts them now? I’m blind now: I can’t see."

"Written by Ezekiel Cheever.

"Written by Ezekiel Cheever."

"Salem Village, March the 1st, 1692."

"Salem Village, March 1, 1692."

Another report of Tituba's examination has been preserved, and may be found in the second volume of the collection edited by Samuel G. Drake, entitled the "Witchcraft Delusion in New England." It is in the handwriting of Jonathan Corwin, very full and minute, and shows that the Indian woman was familiar with all the ridiculous and monstrous fancies then prevalent. The details of her statement cover nearly the whole ground of them. While indicating, in most respects, a mind at the lowest level of general intelligence, they give evidence of cunning and wariness in the highest degree. This document is also valuable, as it affords information about particulars, incidentally mentioned and thus rescued from oblivion, which[ii.27] serve to bring back the life of the past. Tituba describes the dresses of some of the witches: "A black silk hood, with a white silk hood under it, with top-knots." One of them wore "a serge coat, with a white cap." The Devil appeared "in black clothes sometimes, sometimes serge coat of other color." She speaks of the "lean-to chamber" in the parsonage, and describes an aërial night ride "up" to Thomas Putnam's. "How did you go? What did you ride upon?" asked the wondering magistrate. "I ride upon a stick, or pole, and Good and Osburn behind me: we ride taking hold of one another; don't know how we go, for I saw no trees nor path, but was presently there when we were up." In both reports, Tituba describes, quite graphically, the likenesses in which the Devil appeared to his confederates; but Corwin gives the details more fully than Cheever. What the latter reports of the appearances in which the Devil accompanied Osburn, the former amplifies. "The thing with two legs and wings, and a face like a woman," "turns" into a full woman. The "hairy thing" becomes "a thing all over hairy, all the face hairy, and a long nose, and I don't know how to tell how the face looks; is about two or three feet high, and goeth upright like a man; and, last night, it stood before the fire in Mr. Parris's hall."

Another report of Tituba's examination has been preserved and can be found in the second volume of the collection edited by Samuel G. Drake, titled "Witchcraft Delusion in New England." It's written in Jonathan Corwin's handwriting, very detailed, and shows that the Indian woman was aware of all the ridiculous and monstrous ideas that were common at the time. The details of her statement almost cover everything. While suggesting, in many ways, a mind with very low general intelligence, they also show a high degree of cunning and caution. This document is also valuable because it provides information about specifics, mentioned incidentally, that rescue them from being forgotten, which[ii.27] helps to bring back the life of the past. Tituba describes the outfits of some of the witches: "A black silk hood, with a white silk hood underneath, with top-knots." One of them wore "a serge coat, with a white cap." The Devil appeared "in black clothes sometimes, and sometimes in a serge coat of another color." She talks about the "lean-to chamber" in the parsonage and describes an aerial night ride "up" to Thomas Putnam's. "How did you go? What did you ride on?" asked the amazed magistrate. "I ride on a stick or pole, with Good and Osburn behind me: we ride holding onto each other; I don't know how we get there, because I saw no trees or path, but I was there right away when we were up." In both reports, Tituba describes quite vividly the forms in which the Devil appeared to his associates; however, Corwin provides more details than Cheever. What Cheever reports about the appearances in which the Devil accompanied Osburn, Corwin expands upon. "The thing with two legs and wings, and a face like a woman," "turns" into a full woman. The "hairy thing" transforms into "a creature covered in hair, with a completely hairy face, and a long nose, and I can't quite describe what the face looks like; it's about two or three feet tall, standing upright like a man; and, last night, it stood in front of the fire in Mr. Parris's hall."

It is quite evident that the part played by the Indian woman on this occasion was pre-arranged. She had, from the first, been concerned with the circle of girls in their necromantic operations; and her state[ii.28]ments show the materials out of which their ridiculous and monstrous stories were constructed. She said that there were four who "hurt the children." Upon being pressed by the magistrate to tell who they were, she named Osburn and Good, but did "not know who the others were." Two others were marked; but it was not thought best to bring them out until these three examinations had first been made to tell upon the public mind. Tituba had been apprised of Elizabeth Hubbard's story, that she had been "pinched" that morning; and, as well as "Lieutenant Fuller and others," had heard of the delirious exclamation of Thomas Putnam's sick child during the night. "Abigail Williams, that lives with her uncle Parris," had communicated to the Indian slave the story of "the woman with two legs and wings." In fact, she had been fully admitted to their councils, and made acquainted with all the stories they were to tell. But, when it became necessary to avoid specifications touching parties whose names it had been decided not to divulge at that stage of the business, the wily old servant escapes further interrogation, "I am blind now: I cannot see."

It's pretty clear that the role of the Indian woman in this situation was planned out ahead of time. From the start, she was involved with the group of girls in their supernatural activities, and her statements reveal the bizarre and outrageous tales they concocted. She mentioned that four people "hurt the children." When the magistrate pressed her to identify them, she named Osburn and Good but claimed she "did not know who the others were." Two more were pointed out, but it was decided to withhold their names until these three examinations had first impacted public opinion. Tituba had been informed of Elizabeth Hubbard's account that she had been "pinched" that morning, and along with "Lieutenant Fuller and others," had heard about the frantic cries of Thomas Putnam's sick child during the night. "Abigail Williams, who lives with her uncle Parris," had shared with the Indian slave the story of "the woman with two legs and wings." In truth, she had been fully included in their discussions and was familiar with all the narratives they intended to tell. But when it became necessary to avoid specifics about individuals whose names they had decided not to reveal at that stage of the process, the clever servant dodged further questioning, saying, "I am blind now: I cannot see."

Proceedings connected with these examinations were continued several days. The result appears, in the handwriting of John Hathorne, as follows:—

Proceedings related to these examinations lasted several days. The results are recorded in the handwriting of John Hathorne, as follows:—

"Salem Village, March 1, 1691/2.—Tituba, an Indian woman, brought before us by Constable Jos. Herrick, of Salem, upon suspicion of witchcraft by her committed, according to the complaint of Jos. Hutchinson and Thomas[ii.29] Putnam, &c., of Salem Village, as appears per warrant granted, Salem, 29th February, 1691/2. Tituba, upon examination, and after some denial, acknowledged the matter of fact, as, according to her examination given in, more fully will appear, and who also charged Sarah Good and Sarah Osburn with the same.

"Salem Village, March 1, 1691/2.—Tituba, an Indian woman, was brought before us by Constable Jos. Herrick of Salem, on suspicion of witchcraft based on the complaint of Jos. Hutchinson and Thomas[ii.29] Putnam, etc., from Salem Village, as outlined in the warrant issued on February 29, 1691/2. During the examination, after some initial denial, Tituba admitted to the accusations, and as detailed in her full examination, she also implicated Sarah Good and Sarah Osburn in the same offenses."

"Salem Village, March the 1st, 1691/2.—Sarah Good, Sarah Osburn, and Tituba, an Indian woman, all of Salem Village, being this day brought before us, upon suspicion of witchcraft, &c., by them and every one of them committed; Tituba, an Indian woman, acknowledging the matter of fact, and Sarah Osburn and Sarah Good denying the same before us; but there appearing, in all their examinations, sufficient ground to secure them all. And, in order to further examination, they were all per mittimus sent to the jails in the county of Essex.

Salem Village, March 1, 1691/2.—Sarah Good, Sarah Osburn, and Tituba, an Indigenous woman, all from Salem Village, were brought before us today on suspicion of witchcraft, among other things; Tituba, the Indigenous woman, admitted to the allegations, while Sarah Osburn and Sarah Good both denied them. However, there was enough evidence in their testimonies to hold all of them. To continue the investigation, they were all sent to the county jail in Essex.

"Salem, March 2.—Sarah Osburn again examined, and also Tituba, as will appear in their examinations given in. Tituba again acknowledged the fact, and also accused the other two.

"Salem, March 2.—Sarah Osburn was examined again, along with Tituba, as shown in their examinations presented. Tituba admitted the truth once more and also accused the other two."

"Salem, March 3.—Sarah Osburn, and Tituba, Indian, again examined. The examination now given in. Tituba again said the same.

"Salem, March 3.—Sarah Osburn and Tituba, an Indian, were examined again. The examination has now concluded. Tituba reiterated her previous statements."

"Salem, March 5.—Sarah Good and Tituba again examined; and, in their examination, Tituba acknowledged the same she did formerly, and accused the other two above said.

"Salem, March 5.—Sarah Good and Tituba were examined again; during their examination, Tituba confessed to the same things she did before and accused the other two mentioned above."

signatures

signatures

"Salem, March the 7th, 1691/2.—Sarah Good, Sarah Osburn, and Tituba, an Indian woman, all sent to the jail in Boston, according to their mittimuses, then sent to their Majesties' jail-keeper."

"Salem, March 7, 1691/2.—Sarah Good, Sarah Osburn, and Tituba, an Indian woman, were all sent to jail in Boston, as stated in their mittimuses, which were then forwarded to their Majesties' jailer."

It will be noticed that the magistrates did not venture to put into this their final record, what they had unfairly tried to make Sarah Osborn believe, that Sarah Good had been a witness against her. The jail at Ipswich was at a distance of at least ten miles from the village meeting-house, by any road that could then have been travelled. The transference of the prisoners day after day must have been very fatiguing to a sick woman like Sarah Osburn. Sarah Good seems to have been able to bear it. Samuel Braybrook, an assistant constable, having charge of her, says, that, on the way to Ipswich, she "leaped off her horse three times;" that she "railed against the magistrates, and endeavored to kill herself." He further testified, that, at the very time she was performing these feats, Thomas Putnam's daughter, "at her father's house, declared the same." As Braybrook was many miles from Thomas Putnam's house, at the moment when his wonderful daughter exercised this miraculous extent of vision, it would have been more satisfactory to have had some other testimony to the fact. I mention this to show of what stuff the evidence in these cases was made, and the credulity with which every thing was swallowed. The prisoners were put to examination each day.

It’s clear that the magistrates didn’t include in their final record what they had unfairly tried to make Sarah Osborn believe—that Sarah Good had testified against her. The jail in Ipswich was at least ten miles away from the village meeting house by any usable road at that time. Making the prisoners travel back and forth every day must have been very exhausting for a sick woman like Sarah Osborn. Sarah Good seemed to handle it well. Samuel Braybrook, an assistant constable responsible for her, stated that on the way to Ipswich, she "jumped off her horse three times," that she "cursed the magistrates, and tried to harm herself." He also testified that at the same time she was doing these things, Thomas Putnam’s daughter "at her father's house, said the same." Since Braybrook was many miles away from Thomas Putnam’s house when his amazing daughter claimed this, it would have been better to have some other proof of this fact. I mention this to highlight the questionable nature of the evidence in these cases and the gullibility with which everything was accepted. The prisoners were examined every day.

Osburn and Good steadily maintained their innocence. Tituba all along declared herself guilty, and[ii.31] accused the other two of having been with her in confederacy with the Devil. Mr. Parris made the following deposition, in relation to these examinations, to which he subsequently swore in Court, at the trial of Sarah Good:—

Osburn and Good consistently insisted they were innocent. Tituba always claimed she was guilty and accused the other two of having conspired with the Devil. Mr. Parris made the following statement about these examinations, which he later confirmed under oath in court during Sarah Good's trial:—

"The Deposition of Sam: Parris, aged about thirty and nine years.—Testifieth and saith, that Elizabeth Parris, Jr., and Abigail Williams, and Ann Putnam, Jr., and Elizabeth Hubbard, were most grievously and several times tortured during the examination of Sarah Good, Sarah Osburn, and Tituba, Indian, before the magistrates at Salem Village, 1 March, 1692. And the said Tituba being the last of the above said that was examined, they, the above said afflicted persons, were grievously distressed until the said Indian began to confess, and then they were immediately all quiet the rest of the said Indian woman's examination. Also Thomas Putnam, aged about forty years, and Ezekiel Cheever, aged about thirty and six years, testify to the whole of the above said; and all the three deponents aforesaid further testify, that, after the said Indian began to confess, she was herself very much afflicted, and in the face of authority at the same time, and openly charged the abovesaid Good and Osburn as the persons that afflicted her, the aforesaid Indian."

"The Deposition of Sam: Parris, around thirty-nine years old.—He testifies that Elizabeth Parris Jr., Abigail Williams, Ann Putnam Jr., and Elizabeth Hubbard were severely tortured multiple times during the examination of Sarah Good, Sarah Osburn, and Tituba, the Indian, in front of the magistrates at Salem Village, March 1, 1692. Tituba was the last of them to be examined, and the afflicted individuals were in great distress until she started to confess, after which they all became calm for the rest of her examination. Additionally, Thomas Putnam, approximately forty years old, and Ezekiel Cheever, about thirty-six years old, testify to the same events; all three deponents further state that after Tituba began to confess, she herself was very troubled and, in the presence of authority, openly accused Good and Osburn of being the ones who afflicted her, that aforementioned Indian."

By comparing these depositions with the other documents I have presented, it will be seen how admirably the whole affair was arranged, so far as concerned the part played by Tituba. She commences her testimony by declaring her innocence. The afflicted children are instantly thrown into torments, which, however,[ii.32] subside as soon as she begins to confess. Immediately after commencing her confession, and as she proceeds in it, she herself becomes tormented "in the face of authority," before the eyes of the magistrates and the awestruck crowd. Her power to afflict ceases as she breaks loose from her compact with the Devil, who sends some unseen confederate, not then brought to light, to wreak his vengeance upon her for having confessed. Tituba, as well as the girls, showed herself an adept in the arts taught in the circle.

By comparing these statements with the other documents I’ve presented, you can see how skillfully everything was organized, especially regarding Tituba's role. She starts her testimony by claiming her innocence. The afflicted children immediately start to suffer, but their torment dies down as soon as she begins to confess. As she continues her confession, she herself is tormented "in the presence of authority," right in front of the magistrates and the shocked crowd. Her ability to inflict harm stops once she breaks her pact with the Devil, who sends some unseen accomplice, not yet revealed, to take revenge on her for confessing. Tituba, just like the girls, proved to be skilled in the practices taught in the circle.

All we know of Sarah Osburn beyond this date are the following items in the Boston jailer's bill "against the country," dated May 29, 1692: "To chains for Sarah Good and Sarah Osburn, 14 shillings:" "To the keeping of Sarah Osburn, from the 7th of March to the 10th of May, when she died, being nine weeks and two days, £1. 3s. 5d."

All we know about Sarah Osburn after this date comes from the Boston jailer's bill "against the country," dated May 29, 1692: "For chains for Sarah Good and Sarah Osburn, 14 shillings:" "For keeping Sarah Osburn, from March 7 to May 10, when she died, for nine weeks and two days, £1. 3s. 5d."

The only further information we have of Tituba is from Calef, who says, "The account she since gives of it is, that her master did beat her, and otherwise abuse her, to make her confess and accuse (such as he called) her sister-witches; and that whatsoever she said by way of confessing or accusing others was the effect of such usage: her master refused to pay her fees, unless she would stand to what she had said. Calef further states that she laid in jail until finally "sold for her fees." The jailer's charge for her "diet in prison for a year and a month" appears in a shape that corroborates Calef's statements, which were prepared for publication in 1697, and printed in London in 1700.[ii.33] Although zealously devoted to the work of exposing the enormities connected with the witchcraft prosecutions, there is no ground to dispute the veracity of Calef as to matters of fact. What he says of the declarations of Tituba, subsequent to her examination, is quite consistent with a critical analysis of the details of the record of that examination. It can hardly be doubted, whatever the amount of severity employed to make her act the part assigned her, that she was used as an instrument to give effect to the delusion.

The only additional information we have about Tituba comes from Calef, who says, "She claims her master beat her and abused her to force her to confess and accuse (as he called it) her sister-witches; and that whatever she said in confession or in accusing others was a result of such treatment: her master refused to pay her fees unless she stood by what she had said. Calef also mentions that she remained in jail until she was finally 'sold for her fees.' The jailer's charge for her 'food in prison for a year and a month' supports Calef's claims, which were prepared for publication in 1697 and printed in London in 1700.[ii.33] Although he was passionately committed to exposing the abuses related to the witch trials, there is no reason to doubt Calef’s facts. What he says about Tituba's statements after her examination aligns with a critical analysis of the details from that examination. It is hard to question that, no matter how harsh the treatment was to make her play the role assigned to her, she was used as a tool to perpetuate the illusion."

Now let us consider the state of things that had been brought about in the village, and in the surrounding country, at the close of the first week in March, 1692. The terrible sufferings of the girls in Mr. Parris's family and of their associates, for the two preceding months, had become known far and wide. A universal sympathy was awakened in their behalf; and a sentiment of horror sunk deep into all hearts, at the dread demonstration of the diabolical rage in their afflicted and tortured persons. A few, very few, distrusted; but the great majority, ninety-nine in a hundred of all the people, were completely swept into the torrent. Nathaniel Putnam and Nathaniel Ingersoll were entirely deluded, and continued so to the end. Even Joseph Hutchinson was, for a while, carried away. The physicians had all given their opinion that the girls were suffering from an "evil hand." The neighboring ministers, after a day's fasting and prayer, and a scrutinizing inspection of the condition of the afflicted children, had given it, as[ii.34] the result of their most solemn judgment, that it was a case of witchcraft. Persons from the neighboring towns had come to the place, and with their own eyes received demonstration of the same fact. Mr. Parris made it the topic of his public prayers and preaching. The girls, Sunday after Sunday, were under the malign influence, to the disturbance and affrightment of the congregation. In all companies, in all families, all the day long, the sufferings and distraction occurring in the houses of Mr. Parris, Thomas Putnam, and others, and in the meeting-house, were topics of excited conversation; and every voice was loud in demanding, every mind earnest to ascertain, who were the persons, in confederacy with the Devil, thus torturing, pinching, convulsing, and bringing to the last extremities of mortal agony, these afflicted girls. Every one felt, that, if the guilty authors of the mischief could not be discovered, and put out of the way, no one was safe for a moment. At length, when the girls cried out upon Good, Osburn, and Tituba, there was a general sense of satisfaction and relief. It was thought that Satan's power might be checked. The selection of the first victims was well made. They were just the kind of persons whom the public prejudice and credulity were prepared to suspect and condemn. Their examination was looked for with the utmost interest, and all flocked to witness the proceedings.

Now let’s look at the situation in the village and the surrounding area at the end of the first week in March, 1692. The terrible suffering of the girls in Mr. Parris's family and their friends over the past two months had spread widely. A strong sense of sympathy arose for them, and a deep horror settled in everyone's hearts at the terrifying display of the evil rage affecting these afflicted and tortured individuals. Very few were skeptical; the vast majority, ninety-nine out of a hundred people, were completely swept up in the chaos. Nathaniel Putnam and Nathaniel Ingersoll were completely deceived and stayed that way until the end. Even Joseph Hutchinson was, for a time, caught up in it. The doctors had all concluded that the girls were suffering from an "evil hand." The local ministers, after a day of fasting and prayer and a careful inspection of the afflicted children, determined, as[ii.34] a result of their most serious judgment, that it was a case of witchcraft. People from nearby towns came to witness the same reality themselves. Mr. Parris made it the focus of his public prayers and sermons. The girls, Sunday after Sunday, were under the dark influence, disturbing and frightening the congregation. In every gathering, in every home, all day long, the suffering and turmoil occurring in the houses of Mr. Parris, Thomas Putnam, and others, as well as in the meeting-house, were hot topics of conversation; and every voice was loud in demanding answers, every mind eager to find out who were the individuals, in league with the Devil, torturing, pinching, convulsing, and pushing these girls to the brink of mortal agony. Everyone felt that if the guilty parties behind the turmoil couldn't be discovered and dealt with, no one was safe for even a moment. Eventually, when the girls accused Good Osburn and Tituba, there was a widespread sense of relief and satisfaction. It seemed that Satan's power might be curtailed. The choice of the first victims was well made. They were exactly the kind of people that public bias and gullibility were ready to suspect and condemn. Their examination was anticipated with great interest, and everyone flocked to watch the proceedings.

In considering the state of mind of the people, as they crowded into and around the old meeting-house, we can have no difficulty in realizing the[ii.35] tremendous effects of what there occurred. It was felt that then, on that spot, the most momentous crisis in the world's history had come. A crime, in comparison with which all other crimes sink out of notice, was being notoriously and defiantly committed in their midst. The great enemy of God and man was let loose among them. What had filled the hearts of mankind for ages, the world over, with dread apprehension, was come to pass; and in that village the great battle, on whose issue the preservation of the kingdom of the Lord on the earth was suspended, had begun. Indeed, no language, no imagery, no conception of ours, can adequately express the feeling of awful and terrible solemnity with which all were overwhelmed. No body of men ever convened in a more highly wrought state of excitement than pervaded that assembly, when the magistrates entered, in all their stern authority, and the scene opened on the 1st of March, 1692. A minister, probably Mr. Parris, began, according to the custom of the times, with prayer. From what we know of his skill and talent in meeting such occasions, it may well be supposed that his language and manner heightened still more the passions of the hour. The marshal, of tall and imposing stature and aspect, accompanied by his constables, brought in the prisoners. Sarah Good, a poverty-stricken, wandering, and wretched victim of ill-fortune and ill-usage, was put to the bar. Every effort was made by the examining magistrate, aided by the officious interference of the marshal, or other deluded or[ii.36] evil-disposed persons,—who, like him, were permitted to interpose with charges or abusive expressions,—to overawe and confound, involve in contradictions, and mislead the poor creature, and force her to confess herself guilty and accuse others. In due time, the "afflicted children" were brought in; and a scene ensued, such as no person in that crowd or in that generation had ever witnessed before. Immediately on being confronted with the prisoner, and meeting her eye, they fell, as if struck dead, to the floor; or screeched in agony; or went into fearful spasms or convulsive fits; or cried out that they were pricked with pins, pinched, or throttled by invisible hands. They were severally brought up to the prisoner, and, upon touching her person, instantly became calm, quiet, and fully restored to their senses. With one voice they all declared that Sarah Good had thus tormented them, by her power as a witch in league with the Devil. The truth of this charge, in the effect produced by the malign influence proceeding from her, was thus visible to all eyes. All saw, too, how instantly upon touching her the diabolical effect ceased; the malignant fluid passing back, like an electric stream, into the body of the witch. The spectacle was repeated once and again, the acting perfect, and the delusion consummated. The magistrates and all present considered the guilt of the prisoner demonstrated, and regarded her as wilfully and wickedly obstinate in not at once confessing what her eyes, as well as theirs, saw. Her refusal to confess was considered as the[ii.37] highest proof of her guilt. They passed judgment against her, committed her to the marshal, who hurried her to prison, bound her with cords, and loaded her with irons; for it was thought that no ordinary fastenings could hold a witch. Similar proceedings, with suitable variations, were had with Sarah Osburn and Tituba. The confession of the last-named, the immediate relief thereafter of the afflicted children, and the dreadful torments which Tituba herself experienced, on the spot, from the unseen hand of the Devil wreaking vengeance upon her, put the finishing touch to the delusion. The excitement was kept up, and spread far and wide, by the officers and magistrates riding in cavalcade, day after day, to and from the town and village; and by the constables, with their assistants, carrying their manacled prisoners from jail to jail in Ipswich, Salem, and Boston.

In thinking about the mindset of the people as they filled the old meeting-house, it’s easy to understand the[ii.35] huge impact of what was happening there. It felt like, at that moment, the most significant crisis in world history had arrived. A crime, greater than any other, was being openly and defiantly committed right in front of them. The great enemy of God and humanity was unleashed among them. What had haunted people's hearts for ages all around the world was happening; and in that village, the great battle that determined the survival of God's kingdom on earth had begun. Truly, no words, no images, and no ideas could fully capture the overwhelming sense of dread and seriousness that gripped everyone. No group of people ever gathered in a more heightened state of excitement than that assembly when the magistrates entered in all their stern authority, and the scene unfolded on March 1, 1692. A minister, likely Mr. Parris, began, as was customary, with a prayer. Given what we know about his skill and talent for such occasions, it’s likely that his words and manner intensified the emotions of the moment. The tall and imposing marshal, along with his constables, brought in the prisoners. Sarah Good, a destitute, wandering, and unfortunate victim of bad luck and mistreatment, was brought to the stand. The examining magistrate, aided by the marshal’s intrusive actions or other misguided or[ii.36] malevolent individuals—who, like him, were allowed to interject with accusations or insults—worked to intimidate and confuse her, entangling her in contradictions and misleading her in ways designed to make her confess guilt and implicate others. Eventually, the "afflicted children" were brought in; and what followed was a scene that no one in that crowd or era had ever seen before. As soon as they confronted the prisoner and made eye contact with her, they collapsed to the floor as if struck dead, or screamed in agony, or went into terrifying spasms or convulsions, or shouted that they were being pricked with pins, pinched, or choked by invisible hands. They were brought up to Sarah Good one by one, and upon touching her, they instantly became calm, quiet, and fully aware again. All together they declared that Sarah Good had tormented them through her witchcraft in league with the Devil. The truth of this accusation, reflected in the manifestation of her malign influence, was clear to everyone. They also saw how touching her caused the diabolical effects to cease; the negative energy seemed to return, like an electric current, back into the witch’s body. This spectacle was repeated time and again, with flawless acting, and the delusion was complete. The magistrates and everyone present viewed the prisoner’s guilt as proven and considered her willfully and wickedly stubborn for not immediately confessing what she saw with her own eyes, just like theirs. Her refusal to confess was seen as the[ii.37] strongest evidence of her guilt. They judged her, handed her over to the marshal, who rushed her to prison, bound her with ropes, and shackled her; it was believed that no ordinary restraints could contain a witch. Similar actions, with some variations, were taken with Sarah Osburn and Tituba. The confession of Tituba, the immediate relief of the afflicted children afterward, and the horrific torments she experienced right there from the unseen hand of the Devil taking vengeance upon her, completed the delusion. The excitement was maintained and spread far and wide by the officers and magistrates riding in groups, day after day, to and from the town and village; and by the constables, along with their helpers, transporting their shackled prisoners from jail to jail in Ipswich, Salem, and Boston.

The point was now reached when the accusers could safely strike at higher game. But time was taken to mature arrangements. Great curiosity was felt to know who the other two were whom Tituba saw in connection with Good and Osburn in their hellish operations. The girls continued to suffer torments and fall in fits, and were constantly urged by large numbers of people, going from house to house to witness their sufferings, to reveal who the witches were that still afflicted them. When all was prepared, they began to cry out, with more or less distinctness; at first, in significant but general descriptions, and at last calling names. The next victim was also well chosen. An account[ii.38] has been given, in the First Part, of the notoriety which circumstances had attached to Giles Corey. In 1691 he became a member of the church, being then (Vol. I. p. 182) eighty years of age. Four daughters, all probably by his first wife Margaret, the only children of whom there is any mention, were married to John Moulton, John Parker, and Henry Crosby, of Salem, and William Cleaves, of Beverly. On the 11th of April, 1664, Corey was married to Mary Britt, who died, as appears by the inscription on her gravestone in the old Salem burial-ground, Aug. 27, 1684. Martha was his third wife. Her age is unknown. It was entered on the record of the village church, at the time of her admission to it, April 27, 1690; but the figures are worn away from the edge of the page. She was a very intelligent and devout person.

The moment had come when the accusers could confidently target more significant individuals. However, they took their time to finalize their plans. There was great curiosity about who the other two were that Tituba had seen involved with Good and Osburn in their wicked activities. The girls kept experiencing torments and collapsing in fits, and they were constantly pressed by large crowds, going from house to house to witness their struggles, to name the witches who still tormented them. Once everything was in place, they started to shout out, initially with vague but meaningful descriptions, and ultimately naming names. The next target was also carefully selected. An account[ii.38] has been given, in the First Part, of the notoriety that circumstances had attached to Giles Corey. In 1691, he joined the church at the age of (Vol. I. p. 182) eighty. He had four daughters, all likely from his first wife Margaret, who were the only children mentioned, and they were married to John Moulton, John Parker, and Henry Crosby of Salem, and William Cleaves of Beverly. On April 11, 1664, Corey married Mary Britt, who died, as noted on her gravestone in the old Salem burial ground, on August 27, 1684. Martha was his third wife. Her age is unknown. It was recorded in the village church when she was admitted on April 27, 1690; however, the numbers have worn away from the edge of the page. She was a very intelligent and devout person.

When the proceedings relating to witchcraft began, she did not approve of them, and expressed her want of faith in the "afflicted children." She discountenanced the whole affair, and would not follow the multitude to the examinations; but was said to have spoken freely of the course of the magistrates, saying that their eyes were blinded, and that she could open them. It seemed to her clear that they were violating common sense and the Word of God, and she was confident that she could convince them of their errors. Instead of falling into the delusion, she applied herself with renewed earnestness to keep her own mind under the influence of prayer, and[ii.39] spent more time in devotion than ever before. Her husband, however, was completely carried away by the prevalent fanaticism, believed all he heard, and frequented the examinations and the exhibitions of the afflicted children. This disagreement became quite serious. Her preferring to stay at home, shunning the proceedings, and expressing her disapprobation of what was going on, caused an estrangement between them. Her peculiar course created comment, in which he and two of his sons-in-law took part. Some strong expressions were used by him, because she acted so strangely at variance with everybody else. Her spending so much time on her knees in devotion was looked upon as a matter of suspicion. It was said that she tried to prevent him from following up the examinations, and went so far as to remove the saddle from the horse brought up to convey him to some meeting at the village connected with the witchcraft excitement. Angry words, uttered by him, were heard and repeated. As she was a woman of notable piety, a professor of religion, and a member of the church, it was evident that her case, if she were proceeded against, would still more heighten the panic, and convulse the public mind. It would give ground for an idea which the managers of the affair desired to circulate, that the Devil had succeeded in making inroads into the very heart of the church, and was bringing into confederacy with him aged and eminent church-members, who, under color of their profession, threatened to extend his influence to the overthrow of[ii.40] all religion. It was, indeed, established in the popular sentiments, as a sign and mark of the Devil's coming, that many professing godliness would join his standard.

When the witchcraft proceedings started, she didn’t agree with them and expressed her doubts about the "afflicted children." She disapproved of the entire situation and refused to join the crowd at the examinations, but it was said that she spoke openly about the magistrates' actions, claiming that they were blinded and that she could help them see the truth. She clearly believed they were going against common sense and the Word of God, and she was sure she could show them their mistakes. Instead of getting caught up in the delusion, she focused even more on keeping her mind in prayer and[ii.39] spent more time in devotion than ever before. Her husband, however, was completely swept up in the widespread fanaticism, believed everything he heard, and attended the examinations and the displays of the afflicted children. This disagreement grew quite serious. Her choice to stay home, avoid the proceedings, and express her disapproval of what was happening drove a wedge between them. Her unusual behavior drew comments from him and two of his sons-in-law. He used some harsh words because she acted so differently from everyone else. Her spending so much time in prayer raised suspicions. It was rumored that she tried to stop him from going to the examinations and even went so far as to take the saddle off the horse meant to take him to a meeting in the village related to the witchcraft frenzy. Angry words from him were heard and repeated. Since she was a notably pious woman, a professing Christian, and a church member, it was clear that if anything were done against her, it would only intensify the panic and disturb the public mind even more. It would provide grounds for the idea that the Devil had infiltrated the very heart of the church and was forming alliances with respected church members who, under the guise of their faith, threatened to spread his influence to undermine[ii.40] all religion. Indeed, it was widely believed that as a sign of the Devil’s presence, many who claimed to be godly would align with him.

For a day or two, it was whispered round that persons in great repute for piety were in the diabolical confederacy, and about to be unmasked. The name of Martha Corey, whose open opposition to the proceedings had become known, was passed among the girls in an under-breath, and caught from one to another among those managing the affair. On the 12th of March, Edward Putnam and Ezekiel Cheever, having heard Ann Putnam declare that Goody Corey did often appear to her, and torture her by pinching and otherwise, thought it their duty to go to her, and see what she would say to this complaint; "she being in church covenant with us." They mounted their horses about "the middle of the afternoon," and first went to the house of Thomas Putnam to see his daughter Ann, to learn from her what clothes Goody Corey appeared to her in, in order to judge whether she might not have been mistaken in the person. The girl told them, that Goody Corey, knowing that they contemplated making this visit, had just appeared in spirit to her, but had blinded her so that she could not tell what clothes she wore. Highly wrought upon by the extraordinary statement of the girl, which they received with perfect credulity, the two brethren remounted, and pursued their way. Goody Corey had heard that her name had been bandied about by the accusing girls: she also knew that it was one of their[ii.41] arts to pretend to see the clothes people were wearing at the time their spectres appeared to them. This required, indeed, no great amount of necromancy; as it is not probable that there was much variety in the costume of farmer's wives, at that time, while about their ordinary domestic engagements.

For a day or two, people were quietly suggesting that some well-respected individuals known for their piety were part of a wicked plot and were about to be exposed. The name Martha Corey, who had openly opposed the proceedings, was exchanged among the girls in hushed whispers and spread among those handling the situation. On March 12th, Edward Putnam and Ezekiel Cheever heard Ann Putnam state that Goody Corey often appeared to her and tortured her by pinching her and other methods. They felt it was their duty to visit her and hear her side of the complaint since she was part of their church community. They set out on their horses in the afternoon, first stopping by Thomas Putnam's house to see his daughter Ann and find out what clothes Goody Corey wore during her appearances to her, hoping to determine if there had been any mistaken identity. The girl told them that Goody Corey, aware of their planned visit, had just appeared to her in spirit but had blinded her so she couldn’t tell what clothes she was wearing. Feeling quite influenced by the extraordinary claim of the girl, which they accepted completely, the two brothers continued on their way. Goody Corey had heard that her name was being tossed around by the accusing girls and also knew that it was one of their tactics to pretend they could see the clothing people wore when their specters showed up. This didn’t require much skill; it’s unlikely there was much variation in the attire of farmer’s wives at that time while they were engaged in their everyday domestic tasks.

They found her alone in her house. As soon as they commenced conversation, "in a smiling manner she said, 'I know what you are come for; you are come to talk with me about being a witch, but I am none: I cannot help people's talking of me.'" Edward Putnam acknowledged that their visit was in consequence of complaints made against her by the afflicted children. She inquired whether they had undertaken to describe the clothes she then wore. They answered that they had not, and proceeded to repeat what Ann Putnam had said to them about her blinding her so that she could not see her clothes. At this she smiled, no doubt at Ann's cunning artifice to escape having to say what dress she then had on. She declared to the two brethren, that "she did not think that there were any witches." After considerable talk, in which they did not get much to further their purpose, they took their leave. The account of this interview, given by Putnam and Cheever, indicates that Martha Corey was a sensible, enlightened, and sprightly woman, perfectly free from the delusion of the day, courteous in her manners and bearing, and a Christian, well grounded in Scripture.

They found her alone in her house. As soon as they started talking, she smiled and said, "I know why you're here; you want to talk to me about being a witch, but I'm not one. I can't stop people from talking about me." Edward Putnam acknowledged that their visit was due to complaints made against her by the affected children. She asked if they had described the clothes she was wearing at that moment. They said no and went on to repeat what Ann Putnam had told them about blinding her so she couldn't see her clothes. She smiled at this, likely amused by Ann's clever trick to avoid describing what she was wearing. She told the two men she "did not believe there were any witches." After a lengthy conversation, during which they didn’t gain much useful information, they took their leave. The account of this meeting, provided by Putnam and Cheever, suggests that Martha Corey was a sensible, enlightened, and lively woman, completely free from the prevailing delusion, polite in her manner, and a Christian well-versed in Scripture.

The two brethren returned forthwith to Thomas[ii.42] Putnam's house. Ann told them that Goody Corey had not troubled her, nor her spectre appeared, in their absence. She was not inclined to afford them an opportunity to apply the test of the dress. Both the women showed great acuteness and caution. As Corey expected the visit, and had heard that the girls pretended to be able to say what dress persons were wearing, she probably had attired herself in an unusual way on the occasion, to put them at fault, and expose the falseness of their claims to preternatural knowledge; and Ann Putnam—her sagacity suggesting the risk she was running in the matter of Corey's dress—took refuge in the pretence of blindness. The brethren were too much under delusion to see through the sharp practice of both of them, but considered the fact of Corey's inquiring of them whether Ann described her dress, as, under the circumstances, proof positive against the former.

The two brothers quickly returned to Thomas[ii.42] Putnam's house. Ann told them that Goody Corey hadn't bothered her, nor had her specter shown up while they were away. She wasn't keen on giving them a chance to test her dress. Both women were very sharp and careful. Since Corey expected the visit and had heard that the girls claimed they could tell what dress people were wearing, she likely dressed in a way that was different than usual to confuse them and expose the falsehood of their supposed supernatural abilities; and Ann Putnam—her insight warning her about the risk regarding Corey's dress—pretended to be blind. The brothers were too misled to realize the clever maneuvering of both women, but they took Corey’s question about whether Ann described her dress as, under the circumstances, solid proof against her.

Wishing to make assurance doubly sure, and to fasten the charge upon Martha Corey, the managers of the affair sent for her to come to the house of Thomas Putnam two days after this conference. Edward Putnam was present, and testified that his niece Ann, immediately upon the entrance of Goodwife Corey, experienced the most dreadful convulsions and tortures and distinctly and positively declared that Corey was the author of her sufferings. This was regarded as conclusive evidence; and, on the 19th of March, a warrant was issued for her arrest. She was brought to the house of Nathaniel Ingersoll, on Monday the[ii.43] 21st; and the following is the account of her examination, in the handwriting of Mr. Parris. The proceedings took place in the meeting-house at the village. They were introduced by a prayer from the Rev. Nicholas Noyes. On some of these occasions Mr. Hale and perhaps others, but usually Mr. Noyes or Mr. Parris officiated. We may suppose, from what we know of their general deportment in connection with these scenes, that their performances, under the cover of a devotional exercise, expressed and enforced a decided prejudgment of the case in hand against the prisoners, and partook of the character of indictments as much as of prayers.

Wanting to be absolutely certain and to ensure that Martha Corey was held accountable, the people in charge of the situation called for her to come to Thomas Putnam's house two days after this meeting. Edward Putnam was there and testified that his niece Ann, as soon as Goodwife Corey entered the room, suffered terrible convulsions and anguish, clearly stating that Corey was the cause of her pain. This was seen as strong evidence; on March 19th, a warrant was issued for her arrest. She was taken to Nathaniel Ingersoll's house on Monday the[ii.43] 21st; and what follows is the account of her examination, written by Mr. Parris. The proceedings took place in the village meeting-house, starting with a prayer from Rev. Nicholas Noyes. During some of these events, Mr. Hale and perhaps others were present, but usually it was Mr. Noyes or Mr. Parris leading the prayer. We can assume, based on their usual behavior in these situations, that their actions, under the guise of a devotional activity, reflected and reinforced a strong bias against the prisoners, serving more as accusations than prayers.

"The Examination of Martha Corey.

"The Examination of Martha Corey."

"Mr. Hathorne: You are now in the hands of authority. Tell me, now, why you hurt these persons.—I do not.

"Mr. Hawthorne: You are now in the hands of authority. Tell me, why did you harm these people?—I didn't."

"Who doth?—Pray, give me leave to go to prayer.

"Who does?—Please, let me go to pray."

"(This request was made sundry times.)

(This request was made several times.)

"We do not send for you to go to prayer; but tell me why you hurt these.—I am an innocent person. I never had to do with witchcraft since I was born. I am a gospel woman.

"We're not calling you to pray; just tell me why you harmed these people. I'm innocent. I've never been involved with witchcraft in my life. I'm a woman of faith."

"Do not you see these complain of you?—The Lord open the eyes of the magistrates and ministers: the Lord show his power to discover the guilty.

"Don't you see these people complaining about you?—May the Lord open the eyes of the officials and ministers: may the Lord show His power to reveal the guilty."

"Tell us who hurts these children.—I do not know.

"Tell us who is hurting these children.—I don’t know."

"If you be guilty of this fact, do you think you can hide it?—The Lord knows.

"If you are guilty of this fact, do you think you can hide it?—The Lord knows."

"Well, tell us what you know of this matter.—Why, I am a gospel woman; and do you think I can have to do with witchcraft too?

"Well, tell us what you know about this situation.—Honestly, I'm a woman of faith; do you really think I can be involved with witchcraft as well?"

"How could you tell, then, that the child was bid to ob[ii.44]serve what clothes you wore, when some came to speak with you?

"How could you tell, then, that the child was asked to observe what clothes you wore when some came to talk to you?"

"(Cheever interrupted her, and bid her not begin with a lie; and so Edward Putnam declared the matter.)

"(Cheever interrupted her and told her not to start with a lie; and so Edward Putnam stated the situation.)"

"Mr. Hathorne: Who told you that?—He said the child said.

"Mr. Hawthorne: Who told you that?—He said the kid said."

"Cheever: You speak falsely.

"Cheever: You're lying."

"(Then Edward Putnam read again.)

"(Then Edward Putnam read again.)"

"Mr. Hathorne: Why did you ask if the child told what clothes you wore?—My husband told me the others told.

"Mr. Hawthorne: Why did you ask if the child mentioned what clothes you were wearing?—My husband said that the others mentioned it."

"Who told you about the clothes? Why did you ask that question?—Because I heard the children told what clothes the others wore.

"Who let you know about the clothes? Why did you ask that question?—Because I heard the kids talking about what clothes everyone was wearing."

"Goodman Corey, did you tell her?

"Goodman Corey, did you tell her?"

"(The old man denied that he told her so.)

"(The old man denied that he said that to her.)"

"Did you not say your husband told you so?

"Didn't you say your husband told you that?"

"(No answer.)

(No reply.)

"Who hurts these children? Now look upon them.—I cannot help it.

"Who hurts these kids? Just look at them. I can’t help it."

"Did you not say you would tell the truth why you asked that question? how came you to the knowledge?—I did but ask.

"Did you not say you would explain why you asked that question? How did you find out?—I just asked."

"You dare thus to lie in all this assembly. You are now before authority. I expect the truth: you promised it. Speak now, and tell who told you what clothes.—Nobody.

"You dare to lie like this in front of everyone. You're standing before authority now. I expect the truth: you promised it. Speak up now and tell us who told you about the clothes.—Nobody."

"How came you to know that the children would be examined what clothes you wore?—Because I thought the child was wiser than anybody if she knew.

"How did you know that the children would be examined on what clothes you wore?—Because I thought the child was smarter than anyone if she knew."

"Give an answer: you said your husband told you.—He told me the children said I afflicted them.

"Give an answer: you said your husband told you.—He told me the kids said I bothered them."

"How do you know what they came for? Answer me this truly: will you say how you came to know what they[ii.45] came for?—I had heard speech that the children said I troubled them, and I thought that they might come to examine.

"How do you know why they came? Be honest with me: will you tell me how you figured out what they[ii.45] came for? I heard the kids say that I was bothering them, and I thought maybe they were coming to check it out."

"But how did you know it?—I thought they did.

"But how did you know that?—I thought they did."

"Did not you say you would tell the truth? who told you what they came for?—Nobody.

"Didn't you say you would tell the truth? Who told you what they came for?—Nobody."

"How did you know?—I did think so.

"How did you know?—I thought so."

"But you said you knew so.

But you said you knew that.

"(Children: There is a man whispering in her ear.)

"(Kids: There's a guy whispering in her ear.)

"Hathorne continued: What did he say to you?—We must not believe all that these distracted children say.

"Hawthorne continued: What did he say to you?—We shouldn't believe everything these confused kids say."

"Cannot you tell what that man whispered?—I saw nobody.

"Can’t you tell what that guy whispered?—I didn’t see anyone."

"But did not you hear?—No.

"But didn't you hear?—No."

"(Here was extreme agony of all the afflicted.)

"(Here was extreme agony of all the afflicted.)"

"If you expect mercy of God, you must look for it in God's way, by confession. Do you think to find mercy by aggravating your sins?—A true thing.

"If you want God's mercy, you have to seek it the right way, through confession. Do you really believe you can find mercy by highlighting your sins?—That's true."

"Look for it, then, in God's way.—So I do.

"Look for it in God's way, then.—So I do."

"Give glory to God and confess, then.—But I cannot confess.

"Give glory to God and confess, then.—But I can't confess."

"Do not you see how these afflicted do charge you?—We must not believe distracted persons.

"Don’t you see how these troubled people accuse you?—We must not believe those who are disturbed."

"Who do you improve to hurt them?—I improved none.

"Who do you elevate to bring them down?—I elevated no one."

"Did not you say our eyes were blinded, you would open them?—Yes, to accuse the innocent.

"Didn’t you say you would open our blinded eyes?—Yes, to accuse the innocent."

"(Then Crosby gave in evidence.)

"(Then Crosby testified.)"

"Why cannot the girl stand before you?—I do not know.

"Why can't the girl stand in front of you?—I don't know."

"What did you mean by that?—I saw them fall down.

"What do you mean by that?—I saw them fall."

"It seems to be an insulting speech, as if they could not stand before you.—They cannot stand before others.

"It seems to be a disrespectful speech, as if they couldn't stand in front of you.—They can't stand in front of anyone else."

"But you said they cannot stand before you. Tell me[ii.46] what was that turning upon the spit by you?—You believe the children that are distracted. I saw no spit.

"But you said they can't stand in front of you. Tell me[ii.46] what was that turning on the spit by you?—You trust the kids that are confused. I didn't see any spit."

"Here are more than two that accuse you for witchcraft. What do you say?—I am innocent.

"Here are more than two people accusing you of witchcraft. What do you say?—I am innocent."

"(Then Mr. Hathorne read further of Crosby's evidence.)

(Then Mr. Hathorne read more of Crosby's testimony.)

"What did you mean by that,—the Devil could not stand before you?

"What did you mean by that—the Devil couldn't stand in front of you?"

"(She denied it. Three or four sober witnesses confirmed it.)

"(She denied it. Three or four sober witnesses confirmed it.)"

"What can I do? Many rise up against me.

"What can I do? Many are rising up against me."

"Why, confess.—So I would, if I were guilty.

"Why, confess.—I would if I were guilty."

"Here are sober persons. What do you say to them? You are a gospel woman; will you lie?

"Here are serious people. What do you say to them? You are a gospel woman; will you be dishonest?"

"(Abigail cried out, 'Next sabbath is sacrament-day; but she shall not come there.')

"(Abigail shouted, 'Next Sunday is communion day; but she won't be there.')"

"I do not care.

"I don't care."

"You charge these children with distraction: it is a note of distraction when persons vary in a minute; but these fix upon you. This is not the manner of distraction.—When all are against me, what can I help it?

"You accuse these kids of being distracted: it’s a distraction when people change suddenly; but they focus on you. This isn’t really distraction. —When everyone is against me, what can I do about it?"

"Now tell me the truth, will you? Why did you say that the magistrates' and ministers' eyes were blinded, you would open them?

"Now tell me the truth, will you? Why did you say that the magistrates' and ministers' eyes were blinded, and that you would open them?"

"(She laughed, and denied it.)

(She laughed and denied it.)

"Now tell us how we shall know who doth hurt these, if you do not?—Can an innocent person be guilty?

"Now tell us how we will know who hurts these if you don’t?—Can an innocent person be guilty?"

"Do you deny these words?—Yes.

"Do you deny this? — Yes."

"Tell us who hurts these. We came to be a terror to evil-doers. You say you would open our eyes, we are blind.—If you say I am a witch.

"Tell us who causes this pain. We came to be a threat to wrongdoers. You claim you would enlighten us, but we are in the dark. —If you say I am a witch."

"You said you would show us.

You said you would show us.

"(She denied it.)[ii.47]

"(She denied it.)[ii.47]

"Why do you not now show us?—I cannot tell: I do not know.

"Why don't you show us now?—I can't say: I don’t know."

"What did you strike the maid at Mr. Tho. Putnam's with?—I never struck her in my life.

"What did you hit the maid at Mr. Tho. Putnam's with?—I never hit her in my life."

"There are two that saw you strike her with an iron rod.—I had no hand in it.

"There are two people who saw you hit her with an iron rod.—I wasn't involved."

"Who had? Do you believe these children are bewitched?—They may, for aught I know: I have no hand in it.

"Who knows? Do you really think these kids are under a spell? —They might be, for all I care: I'm not involved in it."

"You say you are no witch. Maybe you mean you never covenanted with the Devil. Did you never deal with any familiar?—No, never.

"You say you aren't a witch. Maybe you mean you've never made a deal with the Devil. Did you never work with any familiar?—No, never."

"What bird was that the children spoke of?

"What bird were the children talking about?"

"(Then witnesses spoke: What bird was it?)

(Then witnesses spoke: What bird was it?)

"I know no bird.

"I don't know any bird."

"It may be you have engaged you will not confess; but God knows.—So he doth.

"It could be that you've gotten involved but won't admit it; but God knows. —And He does."

"Do you believe you shall go unpunished?—I have nothing to do with witchcraft.

"Do you really think you won't be punished?—I have nothing to do with witchcraft."

"Why was you not willing your husband should come to the former session here?—But he came, for all.

"Why didn't you want your husband to come to the previous meeting here? —But he came anyway."

"Did not you take the saddle off?—I did not know what it was for.

"Didn't you take the saddle off? — I didn't know what it was for."

"Did you not know what it was for?—I did not know that it would be to any benefit.

"Didn't you know what it was for?—I didn't realize it would be helpful."

"(Somebody said that she would not have them help to find out witches.)

"(Somebody said that she wouldn't let them help find witches.)"

"Did you not say you would open our eyes? Why do you not?—I never thought of a witch.

"Didn't you say you would make us see? Why aren't you?—I never considered a witch."

"Is it a laughing matter to see these afflicted persons?

"Is it funny to see these suffering people?"

"(She denied it. Several prove it.)

"(She denied it. Several prove it.)"

"Ye are all against me, and I cannot help it.[ii.48]

"You're all against me, and I can't help it.[ii.48]

"Do not you believe there are witches in the country?—I do not know that there is any.

"Don't you think there are witches in the country?—I don't know if there are any."

"Do not you know that Tituba confessed it?—I did not hear her speak.

"Don't you know that Tituba confessed?—I didn't hear her say anything."

"I find you will own nothing without several witnesses, and yet you will deny for all.

"I think you won't have anything without several witnesses, and yet you'll deny everything."

"(It was noted, when she bit her lip, several of the afflicted were bitten. When she was urged upon it that she bit her lip, saith she, What harm is there in it?)

"(It was observed that when she bit her lip, several of those affected also bit their lips. When she was pressed about it, she said, What’s the harm in it?)"

"(Mr. Noyes: I believe it is apparent she practiseth witchcraft in the congregation: there is no need of images.)

"(Mr. Noyes: I believe it's clear she's practicing witchcraft in the congregation: there’s no need for images.)"

"What do you say to all these things that are apparent?—If you will all go hang me, how can I help it?

"What do you say to all these obvious things?—If you all decide to hang me, how can I stop it?"

"Were you to serve the Devil ten years? Tell how many.

"Were you to serve the Devil for ten years? How many would that be?"

"(She laughed. The children cried there was a yellow-bird with her. When Mr. Hathorne asked her about it, she laughed. When her hands were at liberty, the afflicted persons were pinched.)

"(She laughed. The children cried; there was a yellow bird with her. When Mr. Hathorne asked her about it, she laughed. When her hands were free, the people in distress were pinched.)"

"Why do not you tell how the Devil comes in your shape, and hurts these? You said you would.—How can I know how?

"Why don't you explain how the Devil takes your form and harms these people? You said you would. — How can I figure that out?"

"Why did you say you would show us?

"Why did you say you would show us?"

"(She laughed again.)

(She laughed again.)

"What book is that you would have these children write in?—What book? Where should I have a book? I showed them none, nor have none, nor brought none.

"What book do you want these kids to write in?—What book? Where am I supposed to get a book? I haven't shown them any, don't have any, and didn't bring any."

"(The afflicted cried out there was a man whispering in her ears.)

"(The afflicted cried out that there was a man whispering in her ears.)"

"What book did you carry to Mary Walcot?—I carried none. If the Devil appears in my shape—

"What book did you take to Mary Walcot?—I took none. If the Devil shows up looking like me—

"(Then Needham said that Parker, some time ago, thought this woman was a witch.)[ii.49]

"(Then Needham mentioned that Parker, some time ago, suspected this woman of being a witch.)[ii.49]

"Who is your God?—The God that made me.

"Who is your God? — The God who created me."

"What is his name?—Jehovah.

"What's his name?—Jehovah."

"Do you know any other name?—God Almighty.

"Do you know any other name?—God Almighty.

"Doth he tell you, that you pray to, that he is God Almighty?—Who do I worship but the God that made [me]?

"Does he tell you that you pray to, that he is God Almighty?—Who do I worship but the God that made [me]?"

"How many gods are there?—One.

"How many gods are there?—One."

"How many persons?—Three.

"How many people?—Three."

"Cannot you say, So there is one God in three blessed persons?

"Can't you say that there is one God in three blessed persons?"

[The answer is destroyed, being written in the fold of the paper, and wholly worn off.]

[The answer is gone, written in the crease of the paper, and completely faded away.]

"Do not you see these children and women are rational and sober as their neighbors, when your hands are fastened?

"Don’t you see that these children and women are just as rational and sensible as their neighbors when your hands are tied?"

"(Immediately they were seized with fits: and the standers-by said she was squeezing her fingers, her hands being eased by them that held them on purpose for trial.

"(Immediately, they were taken over by fits: and the bystanders said she was squeezing her fingers, her hands being held by those who were holding them on purpose for testing."

"Quickly after, the marshal said, 'She hath bit her lip;' and immediately the afflicted were in an uproar.)

"Right after that, the marshal said, 'She bit her lip;' and instantly, the affected people were in an uproar."

"[Tell] why you hurt these, or who doth?

"[Tell] why you hurt these, or who does?"

"(She denieth any hand in it.)

"(She denies any involvement in it.)"

"Why did you say, if you were a witch, you should have no pardon?—Because I am a —— woman."

"Why did you say, if you were a witch, you shouldn't be forgiven?—Because I am a —— woman."

"Salem Village, March the 21st, 1692.—The Reverend Mr. Samuel Parris, being desired to take, in writing, the examination of Martha Corey, hath returned it, as aforesaid.

"Salem Village, March 21, 1692.—The Reverend Mr. Samuel Parris, upon request, has written down the examination of Martha Corey and has returned it, as mentioned above."

"Upon hearing the aforesaid, and seeing what we did then see, together with the charges of the persons then pres[ii.50]ent, we committed Martha Corey, the wife of Giles Corey, of Salem Farms, unto the gaol in Salem, as per mittimus then given out."

"After hearing what was just mentioned and seeing what we saw along with the accusations from the people present, we sent Martha Corey, the wife of Giles Corey from Salem Farms, to jail in Salem, as per the order that was issued."

signatures

signatures

The foregoing is a full copy of the original document. One of Giles Corey's daughters, Deliverance, had married, June 5, 1683, Henry Crosby, who lived on land conveyed to him by her father in the immediate neighborhood. He was the person whose written testimony was read by the magistrate. Its purport seems to have been to prove that Martha Corey had said that the accusing girls could not stand before her, and that the Devil could not stand before her. She had, undoubtedly, great confidence in her own innocence, and in the power of truth and prayer, to silence false accusers, and expressed herself in the forcible language which Parris's report of the examination shows that she was well able to use. It is almost amusing to see how the pride of the magistrates was touched, and their wrath kindled, by what she was reported to have said, "that the magistrates' and ministers' eyes were blinded, and that she would open them." It rankled in Hathorne's breast: he returns to it again and again, and works himself up to a higher degree of resentment on each recurrence. Mr. Noyes's ire was[ii.51] roused, and he, too, put in a stroke. It will be noticed, that she avoided a contradiction of her husband, and could not be brought to give the names of persons from whom she had received information. "If you will all go hang me, how can I help it?" "Ye are all against me." "What can I do, when many rise up against me?" "When all are against me, what can I [say to] help it?" Situated as she was, all that she could do was to give them no advantage, or opportunity to ensnare her, and to avoid compromising others; and it must be allowed that she showed much presence and firmness of mind. Her request, made at the opening of the examination, and at "sundry times," to "go to prayer," somewhat confounded them. She probably was led to make and urge the request particularly in consequence of the tenor of Mr. Noyes's prayer at the opening. She felt that it was no more than fair that there should be a prayer on her side, as well as on the other. It might well be feared, that, if allowed to offer a prayer, coming from a person in her situation, an aged professor, and one accustomed to express herself in devotional exercises, it might produce a deep impression upon the whole assembly. To refuse such a request had a hard look; but, as the magistrates saw, it never would have done to have permitted it. It would have reversed the position of all concerned. The latter part of the examination has the appearance that she was suspected to be unsound on a particular article of the prevalent creed. It is much to be regretted that the abrasion of the paper at the[ii.52] folding has obliterated her last answer to this part of the inquisition. It is singular that Mr. Parris has left the blank in her final answer. Probably she used her customary expression, "I am a gospel woman." The writing, at this point, is very clear and distinct; and a vacant space is left, just as it is given above.

The above is a complete copy of the original document. One of Giles Corey’s daughters, Deliverance, married Henry Crosby on June 5, 1683. He lived on land his father-in-law had given him nearby. He was the one whose written statement was read by the magistrate. Its purpose seemed to be to show that Martha Corey claimed the accusing girls couldn’t stand against her and that the Devil couldn’t either. She clearly had a lot of faith in her own innocence, as well as in the power of truth and prayer to silence false accusers, and she expressed herself in the strong language that Parris’s report of the examination indicates she was capable of using. It’s almost amusing to see how the magistrates’ pride was hurt and their anger sparked by what she reportedly said, “that the magistrates’ and ministers’ eyes were blinded, and that she would open them.” It bothered Hathorne greatly; he kept returning to it and grew angrier each time. Mr. Noyes was also angered and reacted. Notably, she avoided contradicting her husband and wouldn’t name the people from whom she had gotten information. “If you are all going to hang me, how can I help it?” “You are all against me.” “What can I do when so many rise up against me?” “When everyone is against me, what can I [say to] change it?” Given her circumstances, all she could do was avoid giving them an edge or a chance to trap her and not compromise others. She undeniably showed a lot of composure and firmness of mind. Her request, made at the start of the examination and at "various times," to "go to prayer," somewhat caught them off guard. She likely felt compelled to make and emphasize the request especially because of Mr. Noyes’s prayer at the beginning. She thought it was only fair that she should have a prayer on her side just as they did on theirs. It was probably feared that if she were allowed to offer a prayer—coming from someone in her position, an elderly professor who was used to vocalizing her devotion—it might have a profound impact on the entire group. Refusing such a request would have seemed harsh; however, the magistrates realized that allowing it would have changed the dynamics for everyone involved. The latter part of the examination suggests she was suspected of being unsound on a specific aspect of the dominant creed. It’s very unfortunate that the wear on the paper at the[ii.52] folding has erased her last response to this part of the inquiry. It’s curious that Mr. Parris left a blank in her final answer. She likely used her usual phrase, "I am a gospel woman." The writing at this point is very clear and distinct; and a blank space is left, just as shown above.

The fact that Martha Corey was known to be an eminently religious person, and very much given to acts of devotion, constituted a serious obstacle, no doubt, in the way of the prosecutors. Parris's record of the examination shows how they managed to get over it. They gave the impression that her frequent and long prayers were addressed to the Devil.

The fact that Martha Corey was recognized as a very religious person, who often engaged in acts of devotion, clearly posed a significant challenge for the prosecutors. Parris's account of the examination reveals how they navigated this issue. They created the impression that her frequent and lengthy prayers were directed towards the Devil.

The disagreement between her and her husband, touching the witchcraft prosecutions, brought him into a very uncomfortable predicament. With his characteristic imprudence of speech, he had probably expressed himself strongly against her unbelief in the sufferings of the girls and her refusal to attend the exhibitions of their tortures, or the examination of persons accused. He was, unquestionably, highly shocked and incensed at her open repudiation of the whole doctrine of witchcraft. Although he had become, in his old age, a professor and a fervently religious man, perhaps he fell back, in his resentment of her course, into his life-long rough phrases, and said that she acted as though the Devil was in her. He might have said that she prayed like a witch. Being entirely carried away by the delusion, he had his own marvellous stories to tell about his cattle's being be[ii.53]witched, &c. His talk, undoubtedly, came to the ears of the prosecutors; and they seem to have taken steps to induce him to come forward as a witness against her. The following document is among the papers:—

The argument between her and her husband about the witchcraft trials put him in a really awkward position. With his usual tendency to speak carelessly, he probably voiced his strong opinions against her disbelief in the girls' suffering and her refusal to witness their tortures or the questioning of the accused. He was undoubtedly very shocked and angry at her outright rejection of the entire concept of witchcraft. Even though he had become a professor and a devoutly religious man in his old age, he might have slipped back into his old rough language in reaction to her stance, suggesting that she acted as if the Devil was inside her. He could have said that she prayed like a witch. Completely caught up in the hysteria, he had his own wild stories about his cattle being bewitched, etc. His talk definitely reached the ears of the prosecutors, who seemed to have tried to persuade him to testify against her. The following document is among the papers:—

"The evidence of Giles Corey testifieth and saith, that last Saturday, in the evening, sitting by the fire, my wife asked me to go to bed. I told her I would go to prayer; and, when I went to prayer, I could not utter my desires with any sense, nor open my mouth to speak.

"The evidence of Giles Corey testifies and says that last Saturday evening, while sitting by the fire, my wife asked me to go to bed. I told her I would go pray, and when I started to pray, I couldn’t express my thoughts clearly or even open my mouth to speak."

"My wife did perceive it, and came towards me, and said she was coming to me.

"My wife noticed it and walked over to me, saying she was coming to me."

"After this, in a little space, I did, according to my measure, attend the duty.

"After this, shortly after, I did my part as I was supposed to."

"Some time last week, I fetched an ox, well, out of the woods about noon: and, he laying down in the yard, I went to raise him to yoke him; but he could not rise, but dragged his hinder parts, as if he had been hip-shot. But after did rise.

"Some time last week, I brought an ox out of the woods around noon. When he laid down in the yard, I went to get him up to yoke him, but he couldn't stand and dragged his back legs as if he had been shot in the hip. But he did manage to get up afterward."

"I had a cat sometimes last week strangely taken on the sudden, and did make me think she would have died presently. My wife bid me knock her in the head, but I did not; and since, she is well.

"I had a cat that seemed to suddenly become unwell last week, and I thought she might die soon. My wife told me to put her out of her misery, but I didn’t do it; and now, she’s fine."

"Another time, going to duties, I was interrupted for a space; but afterward I was helped according to my poor measure. My wife hath been wont to sit up after I went to bed: and I have perceived her to kneel down on the hearth, as if she were at prayer, but heard nothing.

"Another time, while going to work, I was interrupted for a while; but later, I managed to get some help, even if it was just a little. My wife typically stays up after I go to bed, and I've noticed her kneeling by the fireplace as if she's praying, but I can't hear anything."

"At the examination of Sarah Good and others, my wife was willing

"At the examination of Sarah Good and others, my wife was willing"

"March 24, 1692."

"March 24, 1692."

The foregoing document does not express the idea that he thought his wife was a witch. He states what he observed, and what happened to him and to his cattle. He evidently supposed they were bewitched, and that he was obstructed, in going to prayer, in a strange manner; but he does not, in terms, charge it upon her. It gives an interesting insight of the innermost domestic life of the period, in a farmhouse, and exhibits striking touches of the character and ways of these two old people. It illustrates the state of the imagination prevailing among those who were carried away by the delusion. If an ox had a sprained muscle, or a cat a fit of indigestion, it was thought to be the work of an evil hand. Poor old Giles had come late to a religious life, and, it is to be feared, was a novice in prayer. It is no wonder that he was not an adept in "uttering his desires," and experienced occasionally some difficulty in arranging and expressing his devotional sentiments.

The document doesn't suggest that he believed his wife was a witch. He recounts what he saw and what happened to him and his cattle. He clearly thought they were cursed and that something strange was stopping him from praying, but he doesn't directly blame her. It offers an interesting glimpse into the private domestic life of that time in a farmhouse and highlights the distinct characteristics and habits of these two elderly people. It shows the kind of imagination that was common among those caught up in the delusion. If an ox had a sprain or a cat had indigestion, people assumed it was the result of some evil influence. Poor old Giles had only recently embraced a religious life, and it seems he was inexperienced with prayer. It's not surprising that he struggled to "express his desires" and sometimes had trouble organizing and articulating his devotional thoughts.

There is something very singular in the appearance of the foregoing deposition. Purporting to be a piece of testimony, it was not given in the usual and regular way. It does not indicate before whom it was made. It is not attested in the ordinary manner; apparently, was not sworn to in the presence of persons authorized to act in such cases; was never offered in court or anywhere. It is a disconnected paper found among the remnants of the miscellaneous collection in the clerk's office, and is evidently an unfinished document; the words in Italics, at the close, being erased by a line running through them.[ii.55]

There’s something very unique about the previous statement. Although it claims to be a piece of testimony, it wasn’t presented in the usual way. It doesn’t specify who it was made before. It’s not certified in a typical manner; it seems it wasn’t sworn in front of people authorized to handle such matters; and it was never submitted in court or anywhere else. It’s a disjointed document found among the random papers in the clerk’s office, and it’s clearly an incomplete document; the italicized words at the end have been crossed out. [ii.55]

It is probable that the parties who tried to get the old man to testify against his wife discovered that they could not draw any thing from him to answer their designs, but that there was danger that his evidence would be favorable to her, and gave up the attempt to use him on the occasion. The fact that he would not lend himself to their purposes perhaps led to resentment on their part, which may explain the subsequent proceedings against him.

It’s likely that the people who tried to get the old man to testify against his wife realized they couldn’t get anything to support their plans from him. Instead, they risked having his testimony work in her favor and decided to stop trying to use him. His refusal to cooperate may have caused them frustration, which could explain the actions they took against him later.

The document, in its chirography, suggests the idea that it was written by Mr. Noyes, which is not improbable, as Corey was a member of his congregation and church. Noyes was deeply implicated in the prosecutions, and violent in driving them on. The handwriting of the original papers reveals the agency of those who were the most busy in procuring evidence against persons accused. That of Thomas Putnam occurs in very many instances. But Mr. Parris was, beyond all others, the busiest and most active prosecutor. The depositions of the child Abigail Williams, his niece and a member of his family, were written by him, as also a great number of others. He took down most of the examinations, put in a deposition of his own whenever he could, and was always ready to indorse those of others.

The document, in its handwriting, indicates that it was written by Mr. Noyes, which isn't unlikely since Corey was a member of his congregation and church. Noyes was heavily involved in the prosecutions and was aggressive in pushing them forward. The handwriting on the original papers shows the involvement of those who were most active in gathering evidence against the accused. Thomas Putnam's handwriting appears in many instances. However, Mr. Parris was, by far, the most active prosecutor. The statements from the child Abigail Williams, his niece and a member of his family, were written by him, as were many others. He recorded most of the examinations, submitted his own statement whenever possible, and was always ready to support those of others.

It will be remembered, that, when Tituba was put through her examination, she said "four women sometimes hurt the children." She named Good and Osburn, but pretended to have been blinded as to the others. Martha Corey was, in due time, as we[ii.56] have seen, brought out. The fourth was the venerable head of a large and prominent family, and a member of the mother-church in Salem. She had never transferred her relations to the village church, with which, however, she had generally worshipped, and probably communed. Being one of the chief matrons of the place, she was seated in the meeting-house with ladies of similar age and standing, occupying the same bench or compartment with the widow of Thomas Putnam, Sr. The women were seated separately from the men; and the only rule applied among them was eminence in years and respectability.

It should be remembered that when Tituba was examined, she claimed that "four women sometimes hurt the children." She identified Good and Osburn, but acted as if she was unaware of the others. Eventually, Martha Corey was brought forward, as we[ii.56] have seen. The fourth woman was the respected matriarch of a large and notable family and a member of the main church in Salem. She had never switched her membership to the village church, although she generally worshipped there and likely took communion. As one of the prominent women in the community, she sat in the meeting house with other women of similar age and status, sharing a bench with the widow of Thomas Putnam, Sr. The women were seated separately from the men, and the only guideline among them was that of age and respectability.

It has always been considered strange and unaccountable, that a person of such acknowledged worth as Rebecca Nurse, of infirm health and advanced years, should have been selected among the early victims of the witchcraft prosecutions. Jealousies and prejudices, such as often infest rural neighborhoods, may have been engendered, in minds open to such influences, by the prosperity and growing influence of her family. It may be that animosities kindled by the long and violent land controversy, with which many parties had been incidentally connected, lingered in some breasts. There are decided indications, that the passions awakened by the angry contest between the village and "Topsfield men," and which the collisions of a half-century had all along exasperated and hardened, may have been concentrated against the Nurses. Isaac Easty, whose wife was a sister of Rebecca Nurse, and the Townes, who were her brothers or near kins[ii.57]men, were the leaders of the Topsfield men. It is a significant circumstance, in this connection, that to one of the most vehement resolutions passed at meetings of the inhabitants of the village, against the claims of Topsfield, Samuel Nurse, her eldest son, and Thomas Preston, her eldest son-in-law, entered their protest on the record; and, on another similar occasion, her husband Francis Nurse, her son Samuel, and two of her sons-in-law, Preston and Tarbell, took the same course. So far as the family sided with Topsfield in that controversy, it naturally exposed them to the ill-will of the people of the village. An analysis of the names and residences of the persons proceeded against, throughout the prosecutions, will show to what an extent hostile motives were supplied from this quarter. The families of Wildes, How, Hobbs, Towne, Easty, and others who were "cried out" upon by the afflicted children, occupied lands claimed by parties adverse to the village. What, more than all these causes, was sufficient to create a feeling against the Nurses, is the fact that they were opposed to the party which had existed from the beginning in the parish composed originally of the friends of Bayley. To crown the whole, when the excitement occasioned by the extraordinary doings in Mr. Parris's family began to display itself, and the "afflicted children" were brought into notice, the members of this family, with the exception, for a time, of Thomas Preston, discountenanced the whole thing. They absented themselves from meeting, on account of the disturb[ii.58]ances and disorders the girls were allowed to make during the services of worship, in the congregation, on the Lord's Day. Unfriendly remarks, from whatever cause, made in the hearing of the girls, provided subjects for them to act upon. Some persons behind them, suggesting names in this way, whether carelessly or with malicious intent, were guilty of all the misery that was created and blood that was shed.

It's always seemed odd and inexplicable that someone of such recognized value as Rebecca Nurse, who was in poor health and older, would be among the first targets of the witch trials. Jealousies and biases, often present in rural communities, might have been stirred up in those susceptible to such influences due to her family's success and growing importance. It's possible that old grudges from the long and intense land dispute, which many were indirectly involved in, stuck in some people's minds. There are clear signs that the emotions fueled by the bitter conflict between the village and the "Topsfield men," which had been exacerbated over fifty years, may have been directed at the Nurses. Isaac Easty, whose wife was Rebecca Nurse’s sister, and the Townes, who were her brothers or close relatives, were leaders among the Topsfield men. Notably, in light of this, Samuel Nurse, her oldest son, and Thomas Preston, her oldest son-in-law, formally protested one of the most intense resolutions at village meetings against Topsfield's claims; on another similar occasion, her husband Francis Nurse, their son Samuel, and two of her sons-in-law, Preston and Tarbell, did the same. As much as the family sided with Topsfield in that dispute, it naturally made them targets of the villagers’ resentment. A look at the names and addresses of those prosecuted during the trials shows just how much hostility originated from this situation. The families of Wildes, How, Hobbs, Towne, Easty, and others who were "cried out" upon by the afflicted children lived on land claimed by people opposed to the village. What stands out more than all these reasons in stirring feelings against the Nurses is that they were against the faction that had been present from the start in the parish, originally made up of Bayley’s supporters. To add to it all, when the commotion caused by the strange happenings in Mr. Parris's family began to stir, and the "afflicted children" gained attention, most members of this family, except for a time Thomas Preston, disapproved of it. They stayed away from meetings due to the disruptions and disturbances the girls were allowed to create during worship services on Sundays. Unfriendly comments, for whatever reason, made in earshot of the girls gave them things to work with. Some individuals, whether carelessly or maliciously suggesting names from behind the scenes, were responsible for all the suffering and loss of life that followed.

It became a topic of rumor, that Rebecca Nurse was soon to be brought out. It reached the ears of her friends, and the following document comes in at this point:—

It became a topic of gossip that Rebecca Nurse was about to be brought forward. It reached her friends' ears, and this document comes in at this point:—

"We whose names are underwritten being desired to go to Goodman Nurse his house, to speak with his wife, and to tell her that several of the afflicted persons mentioned her; and accordingly we went, and we found her in a weak and low condition in body as she told us, and had been sick almost a week. And we asked how it was otherwise with her: and she said she blessed God for it, she had more of his presence in this sickness than sometime she have had, but not so much as she desired; but she would, with the apostle, press forward to the mark; and many other places of Scripture to the like purpose. And then, of her own accord, she began to speak of the affliction that was amongst them, and in particular of Mr. Parris his family, and how she was grieved for them, though she had not been to see them, by reason of fits that she formerly used to have; for people said it was awful to behold: but she pitied them with all her heart, and went to God for them. But she said she heard that there was persons spoke of that were as innocent as she was, she believed; and, after much to this purpose,[ii.59] we told her we heard that she was spoken of also. 'Well,' she said, 'if it be so, the will of the Lord be done:' she sat still a while, being as it were amazed; and then she said, 'Well, as to this thing I am as innocent as the child unborn; but surely,' she said, 'what sin hath God found out in me unrepented of, that he should lay such an affliction upon me in my old age?' and, according to our best observation, we could not discern that she knew what we came for before we told her.

"We, whose names are signed below, were asked to go to Goodman Nurse's house to speak with his wife and tell her that several of the afflicted individuals mentioned her. So we went, and we found her in a weak and low state, as she told us, having been sick for almost a week. We asked how she was otherwise, and she said she thanked God for it, as she felt His presence more during this sickness than she sometimes had, though not as much as she wanted; but she would, like the Apostle, press on toward the goal, along with many other scripture references to the same effect. Then, on her own, she began to talk about the affliction among them, particularly concerning Mr. Parris's family, and how she felt sorry for them, even though she hadn't visited them due to the fits she used to have, which people said were terrible to witness. But she genuinely empathized with them and prayed for them. She mentioned hearing about people who were as innocent as she believed herself to be, and after discussing this for a while, [ii.59] we told her we heard that she was also being talked about. 'Well,' she said, 'if that’s the case, may the will of the Lord be done.' She sat quietly for a moment, seemingly stunned, and then she said, 'As for this matter, I am as innocent as an unborn child; but surely,' she said, 'what sin has God found in me that remains unconfessed, that He would bring such suffering upon me in my old age?' And, from our best observation, we could not tell that she knew why we had come before we informed her."

Israel Porter,
Elizabeth Porter.

Israel Porter,
Elizabeth Porter.

"To the substance of what is above, we, if called thereto, are ready to testify on oath.

"Regarding what’s mentioned above, we are prepared to testify under oath if called upon."

Daniel Andrew,
Peter Cloyse."

Daniel Andrew, Peter Cloyse.

Elizabeth Porter, who joins her husband in making this statement, was a sister of John Hathorne, the examining magistrate, and the mother-in-law of Joseph Putnam, who was among the very few that condemned the proceedings from the first. She stood, therefore, between the two parties. The character of each of the signers and indorsers of this interesting paper is sufficient proof that its statements are truthful. It cannot but excite the most affecting sensibilities in every breast. This venerable lady, whose conversation and bearing were so truly saint-like, was an invalid of extremely delicate condition and appearance, the mother of a large family, embracing sons, daughters, grandchildren, and one or more great-grandchildren. She was a woman of piety, and simplicity of heart. In all probability, she shared in the popular belief on the subject of witchcraft, and sup[ii.60]posed that the sufferings of the children were real, and that they were afflicted by an "evil hand." At the very time that she was sorrowfully sympathizing with them and Mr. Parris's family, and praying for them, they were circulating suspicions against her, and maturing their plans for her destruction.

Elizabeth Porter, who stands with her husband to make this statement, was the sister of John Hathorne, the examining magistrate, and the mother-in-law of Joseph Putnam, one of the very few who condemned the proceedings from the start. She found herself caught between the two sides. The characters of everyone who signed or endorsed this document provide clear evidence that its claims are true. It’s bound to stir the deepest emotions in anyone who reads it. This respected lady, whose conversations and demeanor were truly saintly, was an invalid with a very delicate state and appearance, and she was the mother of a large family that included sons, daughters, grandchildren, and possibly even great-grandchildren. She was a woman of faith and had a simple heart. It’s likely that she believed in the popular views on witchcraft and thought that the children’s suffering was real, believing they were tormented by an "evil hand." While she was sadly empathizing with them and Mr. Parris's family, praying for their well-being, they were spreading suspicions against her and plotting her downfall.

Rebecca Nurse was a daughter of William Towne, of Yarmouth, Norfolk County, England, where she was baptized, Feb. 21, 1621. Her sister Mary, who married Isaac Easty, was baptized at the same place, Aug. 24, 1634. The records of the First Church at Salem, Sept. 3, 1648, give the baptism of "Joseph and Sarah, children of Sister Towne." Sarah was at that time seven years of age. She became the wife of Edmund Bridges, and afterwards of Peter Cloyse.

Rebecca Nurse was the daughter of William Towne, from Yarmouth, Norfolk County, England, where she was baptized on February 21, 1621. Her sister Mary, who married Isaac Easty, was baptized in the same place on August 24, 1634. The records of the First Church in Salem, dated September 3, 1648, list the baptism of "Joseph and Sarah, children of Sister Towne." At that time, Sarah was seven years old. She later became the wife of Edmund Bridges and then of Peter Cloyse.

On the 23d of March, a warrant was issued, on complaint of Edward Putnam, and Jonathan, son of John Putnam, for the arrest of "Rebecca, wife of Francis Nurse;" and the next morning, at eight o'clock, she was brought to the house of Nathaniel Ingersoll, in the custody of George Herrick, the marshal of Essex. There were several distinct indictments, four of which, for having practised "certain detestable arts called witchcraft" upon Ann Putnam, Mary Walcot, Elizabeth Hubbard, and Abigail Williams, are preserved. The examination took place forthwith at the meeting-house. The age, character, connections, and appearance of the prisoner, made the occasion one of the extremest interest. Hathorne, the magistrate, began the proceedings by addressing one of the afflicted:[ii.61] "What do you say? Have you seen this woman hurt you?" The answer was, "Yes, she beat me this morning." Hathorne, addressing another of the afflicted, said, "Abigail, have you been hurt by this woman?" Abigail answered, "Yes." At that point, Ann Putnam fell into a grievous fit, and, while in her spasms, cried out that it was Rebecca Nurse who was thus afflicting her. As soon as Ann's fit was over, and order restored, Hathorne said, "Goody Nurse, here are two, Ann Putnam the child, and Abigail Williams, complain of your hurting them. What do you say to it?" The prisoner replied, "I can say, before my eternal Father, I am innocent, and God will clear my innocency." Hathorne, apparently touched for the moment by her language and bearing, said, "Here is never a one in the assembly but desires it; but, if you be guilty, pray God discover you." Henry Kenney rose up from the body of the assembly to speak. Hathorne permitted the interruption, and said, "Goodman Kenney, what do you say?" Then Kenney complained of the prisoner, "and further said, since this Nurse came into the house, he was seized twice with an amazed condition." Hathorne, addressing the prisoner, said, "Not only these, but the wife of Mr. Thomas Putnam, accuseth you by credible information, and that both of tempting her to iniquity and of greatly hurting her." The prisoner again affirmed her innocence, and said, in answer to the charge of having hurt these persons, that "she had not been able to get out of doors these eight or nine days."[ii.62] Hathorne then called upon Edward Putnam, who, as the record says, "gave in his relate," which undoubtedly was a statement of his having seen the afflicted in their sufferings, and heard them accuse Rebecca Nurse as their tormentor. Hathorne said, "Is this true, Goody Nurse?" She denied that she had ever hurt them or any one else in her life. Hathorne repeated, "You see these accuse you: is it true?" She answered, "No." He again put the question, "Are you an innocent person relating to this witchcraft?" It seems, from his manner, that he was beginning really to doubt whether she might not be innocent; and perhaps the feeling of the multitude was yielding in her favor.

On March 23rd, a warrant was issued based on a complaint from Edward Putnam and Jonathan, son of John Putnam, for the arrest of "Rebecca, wife of Francis Nurse." The next morning, at 8 o'clock, she was taken to Nathaniel Ingersoll's house under the custody of George Herrick, the marshal of Essex. There were several distinct charges, four of which were for practicing "certain detestable arts called witchcraft" against Ann Putnam, Mary Walcot, Elizabeth Hubbard, and Abigail Williams. The examination took place immediately at the meeting house. The age, character, connections, and appearance of the prisoner made the occasion extremely interesting. Hathorne, the magistrate, began the proceedings by addressing one of the afflicted: [ii.61] "What do you say? Have you seen this woman harm you?" The response was, "Yes, she hurt me this morning." Hathorne turned to another afflicted person, saying, "Abigail, has this woman harmed you?" Abigail replied, "Yes." At that moment, Ann Putnam fell into a severe fit and, during her spasms, shouted that it was Rebecca Nurse who was causing her suffering. Once Ann's fit ended and order was restored, Hathorne said, "Goody Nurse, here are two, Ann Putnam the child, and Abigail Williams, who say you hurt them. What do you have to say about that?" The prisoner responded, "I can say, before my eternal Father, I am innocent, and God will prove my innocence." Hathorne, seemingly moved by her words and demeanor, said, "Everyone here wishes that to be true; but if you're guilty, may God expose you." Henry Kenney stood up from the crowd to speak. Hathorne allowed the interruption and asked, "Goodman Kenney, what do you have to say?" Kenney complained about the prisoner, saying that since this Nurse came into the house, he had been seized twice with a state of shock. Hathorne then addressed the prisoner, stating, "Not only these, but the wife of Mr. Thomas Putnam accuses you based on credible information, both of tempting her to do wrong and of severely hurting her." The prisoner reaffirmed her innocence and stated, in response to the claims of having harmed these people, that "she had not been able to go outside for eight or nine days." [ii.62] Hathorne then called upon Edward Putnam, who, according to the record, "gave in his relate," which was likely a statement describing his observations of the afflicted and hearing them accuse Rebecca Nurse as their tormentor. Hathorne asked, "Is this true, Goody Nurse?" She denied ever having harmed them or anyone else in her life. Hathorne pressed, "You see these people accusing you: is it true?" She replied, "No." He asked again, "Are you innocent of this witchcraft?" It seemed from his demeanor that he was starting to genuinely doubt her guilt, and perhaps the sentiment of the crowd was shifting in her favor.

Here Thomas Putnam's wife cried out, "Did you not bring the black man with you? Did you not bid me tempt God, and die? How oft have you eat and drank your own damnation?" This sudden outbreak, from such a source, accompanied with the wild and apparently supernatural energy and uncontrollable vehemence with which the words were uttered, roused the multitude to the utmost pitch of horror; and the prisoner seems to have been shocked at the dreadful exhibition of madness in the woman and in the assembly. Releasing her hands from confinement, she spread them out towards heaven, and exclaimed, "O Lord, help me!" Instantly, the whole company of the afflicted children "were grievously vexed." After a while, the tumult subsided, and Hathorne again addressed her, "Do you not see what a solemn condition[ii.63] these are in? When your hands are loosed, the persons are afflicted." Then Mary Walcot and Elizabeth Hubbard came forward, and accused her. Hathorne again addressed her, "Here are these two grown persons now accuse. What say you? Do not you see these afflicted persons, and hear them accuse you?" She answered, "The Lord knows I have not hurt them. I am an innocent person." Hathorne continued, "It is very awful to all to see these agonies, and you, an old professor, thus charged with contracting with the Devil by the effects of it, and yet to see you stand with dry eyes where there are so many wet." She answered, "You do not know my heart." Hathorne, "You would do well, if you are guilty, to confess, and give glory to God."—"I am as clear as the child unborn." Hathorne continued, "What uncertainty there may be in apparitions, I know not: yet this with me strikes hard upon you, that you are, at this very present, charged with familiar spirits,—this is your bodily person they speak to; they say now they see these familiar spirits come to your bodily person. Now, what do you say to that?"—"I have none, sir."—"If you have, confess, and give glory to God. I pray God clear you, if you be innocent, and, if you are guilty, discover you; and therefore give me an upright answer. Have you any familiarity with these spirits?"—"No: I have none but with God alone." It looks as if again the magistrate began to open his mind to a fair view of the case. He seems to have sought satisfaction in reference to all the charges[ii.64] that had been made against her. She was suffering from infirmities of body, the result not only of age, but of the burdens of life often pressing down the physical frame, particularly of those who have borne large families of children. The magistrate had heard some malignant gossip of this kind, and he asked, "How came you sick? for there is an odd discourse of that in the mouths of many." She replied that she suffered from weakness of stomach. He inquired, more specifically, "Have you no wounds?" Her answer was, that her ailments and weaknesses, all her bodily infirmities, were the natural effects of what she had experienced in a long life. "I have none but old age."—"You do know whether you are guilty, and have familiarity with the Devil; and now, when you are here present, to see such a thing as these testify,—a black man whispering in your ear, and birds about you,—what do you say to it?"—"It is all false: I am clear."—"Possibly, you may apprehend you are no witch; but have you not been led aside by temptations that way?"—"I have not." At this point, it almost seems that Hathorne was yielding to the moral effect of the evidence she bore in her deportment and language, the impress of conscious innocence in her countenance, and the manifestation of true Christian purity and integrity in her whole manner and bearing. Instead of pressing her with further interrogatories, he gave way to an expression, in the form of a soliloquy or ejaculation, "What a sad thing is it, that a church-member here, and now another of Salem,[ii.65] should thus be accused and charged!" Upon hearing this rather ambiguous expression of the magistrate, Mrs. Pope fell into a grievous fit.

Here Thomas Putnam's wife shouted, "Did you not bring the black man with you? Did you not tell me to test God and die? How often have you eaten and drunk your own damnation?" This sudden outburst from such a source, filled with wild and seemingly supernatural energy and uncontrollable intensity, shocked the crowd to their core; the prisoner appeared stunned by the horrific display of madness from both the woman and the crowd. Releasing her hands from being restrained, she reached out toward heaven and cried, "O Lord, help me!" Instantly, all the affected children "were greatly troubled." After a while, the commotion settled down, and Hathorne spoke to her again, "Do you not see what a serious condition these people are in? When your hands are free, these people are afflicted." Then Mary Walcot and Elizabeth Hubbard stepped forward, accusing her. Hathorne addressed her again, "Here are these two adults now accusing you. What do you say? Do you not see these afflicted people and hear them accuse you?" She replied, "The Lord knows I have not harmed them. I am an innocent person." Hathorne continued, "It is horrifying for everyone to witness these agonies, and you, a longtime church member, being charged with making a deal with the Devil through these effects, yet you stand here with dry eyes while so many are crying." She responded, "You do not know my heart." Hathorne said, "If you are guilty, it would be wise to confess and give glory to God."—"I am as innocent as a newborn child." Hathorne went on, "I don’t know how reliable these apparitions are, but this strikes me hard: you are currently charged with having familiar spirits—these voices are speaking directly to you; they say they see these spirits coming to you. What do you say about that?"—"I have none, sir."—"If you do, confess and give glory to God. I pray God clears you if you're innocent, and if you're guilty, reveals you; so please give me an honest answer. Do you have any connection with these spirits?"—"No: I have none but with God alone." It seems the magistrate was beginning to reconsider the situation fairly. He appeared to be looking for clarity about all the accusations that had been made against her. She was suffering from physical ailments, not just due to age but from the heavy burdens of life that often affect those who have raised large families. The magistrate had heard some vicious rumors, and he asked, "What made you sick? There’s some strange talk about that among many people." She replied that she suffered from a weak stomach. He asked more specifically, "Do you have any wounds?" She answered that all her ailments and weaknesses came naturally from her long life experiences. "I have none but old age."—"You know whether you are guilty and have familiarity with the Devil; now that you are here to witness these testimonies—about a black man whispering in your ear and birds around you—what do you say to it?"—"It’s all false: I am innocent."—"You may believe you aren't a witch; but haven’t you ever been led astray by temptation?"—"I have not." At this point, it seems Hathorne was beginning to see the moral impact of her demeanor and words, the look of conscious innocence on her face, and the display of true Christian purity and integrity in her overall behavior. Instead of pressing her with more questions, he expressed in a soliloquy or exclamation, "What a sad thing it is that a church member here, and now another from Salem, should be accused like this!" After hearing this somewhat ambiguous statement from the magistrate, Mrs. Pope fell into a severe fit.

Mrs. Pope was the wife of Joseph Pope, living with his mother, the widow Gertrude Pope, on the farm shown on the map. She had followed up the meetings of the circle, been a constant witness of the sufferings of the "afflicted children," and attended all the public examinations, until her nervous system was excited beyond restraint, and for a while she went into fits and her imagination was bewildered. She acted with the accusers, and participated in their sufferings. On some occasions, her conduct was wild and extravagant to the highest degree. At the examination of Martha Corey, she was conspicuous for the violence of her actions. In the midst of the proceedings, and in the presence of the magistrates and hundreds of people, she threw her muff at the prisoner; and, that missing, pulled off her shoe, and, more successful this time, hit her square on the head. Hers seems, however, to have been a case of mere delusion, amounting to temporary insanity. That it was not deliberate and cold-blooded imposture is rendered probable by the fact, that she was rescued from the hallucination, and, with her husband, among the foremost to deplore and denounce the whole affair. But, when a woman of her position acted in this manner, on such an occasion, and then went into convulsions, and the whole company of afflicted persons joined in, the confusion, tumult, and frightfulness of[ii.66] the scene can hardly be imagined, certainly it cannot be described in words.

Mrs. Pope was the wife of Joseph Pope, living with his mother, the widow Gertrude Pope, on the farm shown on the map. She kept attending the circle meetings, constantly witnessing the suffering of the "afflicted children," and went to all the public examinations, until her nerves became so frayed that she started having fits and her mind became confused. She acted alongside the accusers and shared in their pain. At times, her behavior was completely wild and extreme. During Martha Corey's examination, she stood out for the intensity of her actions. In the middle of the proceedings, with judges and hundreds of people watching, she threw her muff at the prisoner; when that missed, she took off her shoe and successfully hit her right on the head. However, it seems hers was a case of pure delusion, bordering on temporary insanity. The fact that she was pulled out of this delusion and, along with her husband, was among the first to lament and condemn the whole situation suggests it wasn't a calculated act. Still, when a woman of her standing behaves this way in such a serious setting, and then goes into convulsions, while the entire group of afflicted individuals joins in, the chaos, uproar, and terror of[ii.66] the scene is almost unimaginable, and certainly cannot be captured in words.

Quiet being restored, Hathorne proceeded: "Tell us, have you not had visible appearances, more than what is common in nature?"—"I have none, nor never had in my life."—"Do you think these suffer voluntary or involuntary?"—"I cannot tell."—"That is strange: every one can judge."—"I must be silent."—"They accuse you of hurting them; and, if you think it is not unwillingly, but by design, you must look upon them as murderers."—"I cannot tell what to think of it." This answer was considered as very aspersive in its bearing upon the witnesses, and she was charged with having called them murderers. Being hard of hearing, she did not always take in the whole import of questions put to her. She denied that she said she thought them murderers; all she said, and that she stood to to the last, was that she could not tell what to make of their conduct. Finally, Hathorne put this question, and called for an answer, "Do you think these suffer against their wills or not?" She answered, "I do not think these suffer against their wills." To this point she was not afraid or unwilling to go, in giving an opinion of the conduct of the accusing girls. Infirm, half deaf, cross-questioned, circumvented, surrounded with folly, uproar, and outrage, as she was, they could not intimidate her to say less, or entrap her to say more.

Once things calmed down, Hathorne continued: "Tell us, haven’t you experienced visible appearances, more than what’s normal in nature?" — "I haven't, and I never have in my life." — "Do you think they suffer voluntarily or involuntarily?" — "I can't say." — "That’s odd: everyone else can judge." — "I have to remain silent." — "They accuse you of hurting them; if you believe it’s not by accident but on purpose, then you must see them as murderers." — "I can't figure out what to think about it." This response was viewed as very damaging towards the witnesses, and she was accused of calling them murderers. Because she was hard of hearing, she sometimes didn’t catch the full meaning of the questions asked. She denied saying she thought they were murderers; all she maintained, even to the end, was that she couldn’t understand their behavior. Finally, Hathorne asked her, insisting on an answer, "Do you think they suffer against their will or not?" She replied, "I don’t think they suffer against their will." At this point, she wasn’t scared or unwilling to share her opinion about the behavior of the accusing girls. Despite being frail, partially deaf, cross-examined, manipulated, and surrounded by confusion, noise, and chaos, they couldn’t intimidate her into saying less or trick her into saying more.

Then another line of criminating questions was started by the magistrate: "Why did you never visit[ii.67] these afflicted persons?"—"Because I was afraid I should have fits too." On every motion of her body, "fits followed upon the complainants, abundantly and very frequently." As soon as order was again restored, Hathorne, being, as he always was, wholly convinced of the reality of the sufferings of the "afflicted children," addressed her thus, "Is it not an unaccountable case, that, when you are examined, these persons are afflicted?" Seeing that he and the whole assembly put faith in the accusers, her only reply was, "I have got nobody to look to but God." As she uttered these words, she naturally attempted to raise her hands, whereupon "the afflicted persons were seized with violent fits of torture." After silence was again restored, the magistrate pressed his questions still closer. "Do you believe these afflicted persons are bewitched?" She answered, "I do think they are." It will be noticed that there was this difference between Rebecca Nurse and Martha Corey: The latter was an utter heretic on the point of the popular faith respecting witchcraft; she did not believe that there were any witches, and she looked upon the declarations and actions of the "afflicted children" as the ravings of "distracted persons." The former seems to have held the opinions of the day, and had no disbelief in witchcraft: she was willing to admit that the children were bewitched; but she knew her own innocence, and nothing could move her from the consciousness of it. Mr. Hathorne continued, "When this witchcraft came upon the stage, there was no suspicion[ii.68] of Tituba, Mr. Parris's Indian woman. She professed much love to that child,—Betty Parris; but it was her apparition did the mischief: and why should not you also be guilty, for your apparition doth hurt also?" Her answer was, "Would you have me belie myself?" Weary, probably, of the protracted proceedings, her head drooped on one side; and forthwith the necks of the afflicted children were bent in the same way. This new demonstration of the diabolical power that proceeded from her filled the house with increased awe, and spread horrible conviction of her guilt through all minds. Elizabeth Hubbard's neck was fixed in that direction, and could not be moved. Abigail Williams cried out, "Set up Goody Nurse's head, the maid's neck will be broke." Whereupon, some persons held the prisoner's head up, and "Aaron Way observed that Betty Hubbard's was immediately righted." To consummate the effect of the whole proceeding, Mr. Parris, by direction of the magistrates, "read what he had in characters taken from Mr. Thomas Putnam's wife in her fits." We shall come to the matter thus introduced by Mr. Parris, at a future stage of the story. It is sufficient here to say, that it contained the most positive and minute declarations that the apparition of Rebecca Nurse had appeared to her, on several occasions, and horribly tortured her. After hearing Parris's statement, Hathorne asked the prisoner, "What do you think of this?" Her reply was, "I cannot help it: the Devil may appear in my shape." It may be mentioned, that Mrs. Ann Putnam was present during this[ii.69] examination, and, in the course of it, went into the most dreadful bodily agony, charging it on Rebecca Nurse. Her sufferings were so violent, and held on so long, that the magistrates gave permission to her husband to carry her out of the meeting-house, to free her from the malignant presence of the prisoner. The record of the examination closes thus:—

Then another line of incriminating questions was started by the magistrate: "Why didn’t you ever visit[ii.67] these suffering people?"—"Because I was afraid I would have fits too." With each movement of her body, "fits followed upon the complainants, abundantly and very frequently." Once order was restored, Hathorne, being, as usual, completely convinced of the reality of the "suffering children," addressed her, "Isn't it strange that when you are examined, these people are afflicted?" Seeing that he and the entire assembly believed the accusers, her only response was, "I have no one to turn to but God." As she said this, she attempted to raise her hands, prompting "the afflicted persons to be seized with violent fits of torture." After silence returned, the magistrate pressed his questions even more insistently. "Do you think these afflicted people are bewitched?" She replied, "I believe they are." It will be noted that there was a difference between Rebecca Nurse and Martha Corey: the latter was a complete heretic regarding the popular view of witchcraft; she did not believe in witches and considered the claims and actions of the "afflicted children" to be the ravings of "distracted people." The former seemed to hold the views of her time and showed no disbelief in witchcraft: she was willing to admit that the children were bewitched; but she knew her own innocence, and nothing could shake that awareness. Mr. Hathorne continued, "When this witchcraft first appeared, there was no suspicion[ii.68] of Tituba, Mr. Parris's Indian woman. She professed much love for that child—Betty Parris; but her apparition did the harm: and why shouldn’t you also be guilty, for your apparition is causing harm too?" Her response was, "Would you have me lie about myself?" Tired, probably, of the lengthy proceedings, her head drooped to one side; immediately, the necks of the afflicted children bent in the same way. This new display of the supposed diabolical power coming from her filled the room with increased fear and spread horrifying conviction of her guilt among everyone present. Elizabeth Hubbard's neck was fixed in that direction and couldn't be moved. Abigail Williams shouted, "Hold up Goody Nurse's head, or the maid’s neck will break." Consequently, some people held the prisoner’s head up, and "Aaron Way noticed that Betty Hubbard's neck was immediately straightened." To complete the effect of the entire proceeding, Mr. Parris, at the direction of the magistrates, "read what he had in notes taken from Mr. Thomas Putnam's wife during her fits." We will address the matter introduced by Mr. Parris at a later stage of the story. It is enough to say that it contained the most definite and detailed claims that the apparition of Rebecca Nurse had appeared to her on multiple occasions and had horrifically tortured her. After hearing Parris's statement, Hathorne asked the prisoner, "What do you think of this?" Her reply was, "I can't help it: the Devil might appear in my shape." It’s worth mentioning that Mrs. Ann Putnam was present during this[ii.69] examination, and during it, she fell into the most terrible physical agony, blaming it on Rebecca Nurse. Her suffering was so intense and prolonged that the magistrates allowed her husband to take her out of the meeting-house to free her from the supposed malicious presence of the prisoner. The record of the examination closes like this:—

"Salem Village, March 24th, 1691/2.—The Reverend Mr. Samuel Parris, being desired to take in writing the examination of Rebecca Nurse, hath returned it as aforesaid.

"Salem Village, March 24th, 1691/2.—The Reverend Mr. Samuel Parris, being asked to write down the examination of Rebecca Nurse, has returned it as mentioned earlier."

"Upon hearing the aforesaid, and seeing what we then did see, together with the charges of the persons then present, we committed Rebecca Nurse, the wife of Francis Nurse of Salem Village, unto Her Majesty's jail in Salem, as per mittimus then given out, in order to further examination."

"After hearing what was said and witnessing what we saw, along with the accusations from those present, we took Rebecca Nurse, the wife of Francis Nurse from Salem Village, and committed her to Her Majesty's jail in Salem, as per the mittimus issued at that time, for further investigation."

signatures

signatures

The presence of Ann Putnam, the mother, on this occasion; the statement from her, read by Mr. Parris; and the terrible sufferings she exhibited, produced, no doubt, a deep effect upon the magistrates and all present. Her social position and personal appearance undoubtedly contributed to heighten it. For two months, her house had been the constant scene of the extraordinary actings of the circle of girls of which her daughter and maid-servant were the leading spirits.[ii.70] Her mind had been absorbed in the mysteries of spiritualism. The marvels of necromancy and magic had been kept perpetually before it. She had been living in the invisible world, with a constant sense of supernaturalism surrounding her. Unconsciously, perhaps, the passions, prejudices, irritations, and animosities, to which she had been subject, became mixed with the vagaries of an excited imagination; and, laid open to the inroads of delusion as her mind had long been by perpetual tamperings with spiritual ideas and phantoms, she may have lost the balance of reason and sanity. This, added to a morbid sensibility, probably gave a deep intensity to her voice, action, and countenance. The effect upon the excited multitude must have been very great. Although she lived to realize the utter falseness of all her statements, her monstrous fictions were felt by her, at the time, to be a reality.

The presence of Ann Putnam, the mother, at this event; her statement read by Mr. Parris; and the terrible suffering she displayed undoubtedly had a strong impact on the magistrates and everyone else there. Her social standing and personal appearance surely intensified this effect. For two months, her home had been the constant scene of the unusual behaviors of the group of girls that included her daughter and maid. Her mind had become consumed by spiritualism. The wonders of necromancy and magic had constantly occupied her thoughts. She had been living in an invisible world, surrounded by a constant sense of the supernatural. Unintentionally, perhaps, the emotions, biases, frustrations, and hostilities she experienced mingled with the whims of an excited imagination. Having been exposed to delusions for so long due to her ongoing engagement with spiritual ideas and apparitions, she may have lost her grip on reason and sanity. This, along with her heightened sensitivity, likely added a deep intensity to her voice, actions, and expressions. The effect on the agitated crowd must have been significant. Even though she eventually realized the complete falsehood of all her claims, at that moment, she genuinely felt her monstrous fabrications were real.

In concluding his report of this examination, Mr. Parris says, "By reason of great noises by the afflicted and many speakers, many things are pretermitted." He was probably quite willing to avoid telling the whole story of the disgraceful and shocking scenes enacted in the meeting-house that day. Deodat Lawson was present during the earlier part of the proceedings. He says that Mr. Hale began with prayer; that the prisoner "pleaded her innocency with earnestness;" that, at the opening, some of the girls, Mary Walcot among them, declared that the prisoner had never hurt them. Presently, however, Mary Walcot screamed out that she was bitten, and charged[ii.71] it upon Rebecca Nurse. The marks of teeth were produced on her wrist. Lawson says, "It was so disposed that I had not leisure to attend the whole time of examination." The meaning is, I suppose, that he desired to withdraw into the neighboring fields to con over his manuscript, and make himself more able to perform with effect the part he was to act that afternoon. "There was once," he says, "such an hideous screech and noise (which I heard as I walked at a little distance from the meeting-house) as did amaze me; and some that were within told me the whole assembly was struck with consternation, and they were afraid that those that sat next to them were under the influence of witchcraft." The whole congregation was in an uproar, every one afflicted by and affrighting every other, amid a universal outcry of terror and horror.

In wrapping up his report on this examination, Mr. Parris states, "Due to the loud noises from the afflicted and many speakers, many things are overlooked." He probably wanted to avoid revealing the entire story of the disgraceful and shocking events that took place in the meeting-house that day. Deodat Lawson was there during the earlier part of the proceedings. He says that Mr. Hale started with prayer; that the prisoner "pleaded her innocence sincerely;" and that at the beginning, some of the girls, including Mary Walcot, asserted that the prisoner had never harmed them. However, not long after, Mary Walcot screamed that she had been bitten and blamed it on Rebecca Nurse. Bite marks were shown on her wrist. Lawson notes, "It was arranged in such a way that I didn’t have time to pay attention to the whole examination." I assume he wanted to step into the nearby fields to study his manuscript and prepare himself to perform his part effectively that afternoon. "There was once," he says, "such a horrendous scream and noise (which I heard while walking a little distance from the meeting-house) that it startled me; and those inside told me the entire assembly was shocked, fearing that those sitting next to them were under the influence of witchcraft." The whole congregation was in chaos, each person affected and frightening the others, amidst a widespread outcry of terror and horror.

As it was a part of the policy of the managers of the business to utterly overwhelm the influence of all natural sentiment in the community, they coupled with this proceeding against a venerable and infirm great-grandmother, another of the same kind against a little child. Immediately after the examination of Rebecca Nurse was concluded, Dorcas, a daughter of Sarah Good, was brought before the magistrates. She was between four and five years old. Lawson says, "The child looked hale and well as other children." A warrant had been issued for her apprehension, the day before, on complaint of Edward and Jonathan Putnam. Herrick the marshal, who was a man that magnified his office, and of much personal pride, did[ii.72] not, perhaps, fancy the idea of bringing up such a little prisoner; and he deputized the operation to Samuel Braybrook, who, the next morning, made return, in due form, that "he had taken the body of Dorcas Good," and sent her to the house of Nathaniel Ingersoll, where she was in custody. It seems that Braybrook did not like the job, and passed the handling of the child over to still another. Whoever performed the service probably brought her in his arms, or on a pillion. The little thing could not have walked the distance from Benjamin Putnam's farm. When led in to be examined, Ann Putnam, Mary Walcot, and Mercy Lewis, all charged her with biting, pinching, and almost choking them. The two former went through their usual evolutions in the presence of the awe and terror stricken magistrates and multitude. They showed the marks of her little teeth on their arms; and the pins with which she pricked them were found on their bodies, precisely where, in their shrieks, they had averred that she was piercing them. The evidence was considered overwhelming; and Dorcas was, per mittimus, committed to the jail, where she joined her mother. By the bill of the Boston jailer, it appears that they both were confined there: as they were too poor to provide for themselves, "the country" was charged with ten shillings for "two blankets for Sarah Good's child." The mother, we know, was kept in chains; the child was probably chained too. Extraordinary fastenings, as has been stated, were thought necessary to hold a witch.[ii.73]

As part of the managers' strategy to completely suppress any natural feelings in the community, they targeted not only a frail great-grandmother but also a young child. Right after the examination of Rebecca Nurse wrapped up, Dorcas, Sarah Good's daughter, was brought before the magistrates. She was around four or five years old. Lawson noted, "The child looked healthy and well like other kids." A warrant had been issued for her arrest the day before, based on complaints from Edward and Jonathan Putnam. Herrick, the marshal, who took pride in his position, probably didn't like the idea of bringing in such a little prisoner; so he assigned the task to Samuel Braybrook, who, the next morning, formally reported that he had "taken the body of Dorcas Good," and sent her to Nathaniel Ingersoll's house, where she was kept in custody. It seems Braybrook was not fond of the job, so he handed off the responsibility to someone else. Whoever took care of her likely carried her in their arms or on a pillion; there was no way the little girl could walk the distance from Benjamin Putnam's farm. When she was led in for questioning, Ann Putnam, Mary Walcot, and Mercy Lewis all accused her of biting, pinching, and nearly choking them. The first two went through their typical antics in front of the magistrates and the terrified crowd. They showed the bite marks from her tiny teeth on their arms, and the pins she allegedly used to prick them were found on their bodies, exactly where they claimed she had stabbed them during their screams. The evidence was seen as overwhelming, and Dorcas was, per mittimus, sent to jail, where she joined her mother. According to the Boston jailer's bill, both were held there. Since they were too poor to fend for themselves, the "country" was billed ten shillings for "two blankets for Sarah Good's child." We know the mother was kept in chains; the child was likely chained as well. It was believed that extraordinary restraints were needed to hold a witch.[ii.73]

There was no longer any doubt, in the mass of the community, that the Devil had effected a lodgement at Salem Village. Church-members, persons of all social positions, of the highest repute and profession of piety, eminent for visible manifestations of devotion, and of every age, had joined his standard, and become his active allies and confederates.

There was no longer any doubt among the community that the Devil had taken hold in Salem Village. Church members—from people of all social standings, those of high reputation and claims of piety, known for their visible acts of devotion, and individuals of every age—had joined his cause and become his active supporters and allies.

The effect of these two examinations was unquestionably very great in spreading consternation and bewilderment far and wide; but they were only the prelude to the work, to that end, arranged for the day. The public mind was worked to red heat, and now was the moment to strike the blow that would fix an impression deep and irremovable upon it. It was Thursday, Lecture-day; and the public services usual on the occasion were to be held at the meeting-house.

The impact of these two examinations was definitely huge in creating fear and confusion everywhere; however, they were just the introduction to the main event planned for the day. People were already very agitated, and now was the time to make a move that would leave a lasting impression on them. It was Thursday, Lecture Day; and the usual public services for the occasion were set to take place at the meeting house.

Deodat Lawson had arrived at the village on the 19th of March, and lodged at Deacon Ingersoll's. The fact at once became known; and Mary Walcot immediately went to the deacon's to see him. She had a fit on the spot, which filled Lawson with amazement and horror. His turn of mind led him to be interested in such an excitement; and he had become additionally and specially exercised by learning that the afflicted persons had intimated that the deaths of his wife and daughter, which occurred during his ministry at the village, had been brought about by the diabolical agency of the persons then beginning to be unmasked, and brought to justice. He was prepared to listen to the hints thus thrown out, and was ready to push[ii.74] the prosecutions on with an earnestness in which resentment and rage were mingled with the blindest credulity. After Mary Walcot had given him a specimen of what the girls were suffering, he walked over, early in the evening, to Mr. Parris's house; and there Abigail Williams went into the craziest manifestations, throwing firebrands about the house in the presence of her uncle, rushing to the back of the chimney as though she would fly up through its wide flue, and performing many wonderful works. The next day being Sunday, he preached; and the services were interrupted, in the manner already described, by the outbreaks of the afflicted, under diabolic influence. The next day, he attended the examination of Martha Corey. On Wednesday, the 23d, he went up to Thomas Putnam's, as he says, "on purpose to see his wife." He "found her lying on the bed, having had a sore fit a little before: her husband and she both desired me to pray with her while she was sensible, which I did, though the apparition said I should not go to prayer. At the first beginning, she attended; but, after a little time, was taken with a fit, yet continued silent, and seemed to be asleep." She had represented herself as being in conflict with the shape, or spectre, of a witch, which, she told Lawson, said he should not pray on the occasion. But he courageously ventured on the work. At the conclusion of the prayer, "her husband, going to her, found her in a fit. He took her off the bed to sit her on his knees; but at first she was so stiff she could not be bended, but she after[ii.75]wards sat down." Then she went into that state of supernatural vision and exaltation in which she was accustomed to utter the wildest strains, in fervid, extravagant, but solemn and melancholy, rhapsodies: she disputed with the spectre about a text of Scripture, and then poured forth the most terrible denunciations upon it for tormenting and tempting her. She was evidently a very intellectual and imaginative woman, and was perfectly versed in all the imagery and lofty diction supplied by the prophetic and poetic parts of Scripture. Again she was seized with a terrible fit, that lasted "near half an hour." At times, her mouth was drawn on one side and her body strained. At last she broke forth, and succeeded, after many violent struggles against the spectre and many convulsions of her frame, in saying what part of the Bible Lawson was to read aloud, in order to relieve her. "It is," she said, "the third chapter of the Revelation."—"I did," says Lawson, "something scruple the reading it." He was loath to be engaged in an affair of that kind in which the Devil was an actor. At length he overcame his scruples, and the effect was decisive. "Before I had near read through the first verse, she opened her eyes, and was well." Bewildered and amazed, he went back to Parris's house, and they talked over the awful manifestations of Satan's power. The next morning, he attended the examination of Rebecca Nurse, retiring from it, at an early hour, to complete his preparation for the service that had been arranged for him that afternoon.[ii.76]

Deodat Lawson arrived in the village on March 19th and stayed at Deacon Ingersoll's place. This quickly became known, and Mary Walcot rushed over to see him. She had a fit on the spot, which shocked and horrified Lawson. He was intrigued by the commotion and became particularly concerned after hearing that some people claimed his wife and daughter's deaths during his ministry were caused by the evil actions of those who were just starting to be exposed and brought to justice. He was ready to listen to the suggestions and was determined to pursue legal action with a mix of anger and blind belief. After Mary Walcot showed him what the girls were experiencing, he walked over to Mr. Parris's house early that evening. There, Abigail Williams exhibited wild behavior, throwing things around the house in front of her uncle, rushing to the back of the chimney as if she would fly up through it, and performing many astonishing acts. The next day was Sunday, and he preached; the service was interrupted, as described previously, by the outbursts of the afflicted, under some evil influence. The following day, he attended the examination of Martha Corey. On Wednesday the 23rd, he visited Thomas Putnam's house specifically to see his wife. He found her lying on the bed after suffering a severe fit. Both she and her husband asked him to pray with her while she was still aware, which he did, even though the apparition told him not to pray. At first, she was attentive, but soon had another fit, remaining silent and appearing to fall asleep. She claimed she was in conflict with a witch's spirit, which told Lawson that he should not pray at that moment. But he boldly proceeded with the prayer. After he finished, "her husband found her in a fit." He tried to help her sit on his knees, but at first, she was too stiff to bend, though eventually she was able to sit down. Then she entered a state of supernatural vision and ecstatic expression where she spoke passionately, poetically, yet solemnly and sadly: she argued with the spirit about a Bible verse and then hurled the most terrible curses against it for tormenting and tempting her. She was clearly a very intelligent and imaginative woman, well-versed in the imagery and elevated language from the prophetic and poetic parts of the Bible. Once again, she was struck by a severe fit that lasted "about half an hour." At times, her mouth twisted to one side, and her body contorted. Eventually, she managed, after many violent struggles with the spirit and numerous convulsions, to tell Lawson which part of the Bible he should read aloud to help her. "It is," she said, "the third chapter of Revelation." Lawson admitted, "I hesitated to read it." He was reluctant to get involved in something involving the Devil. Finally, he pushed past his doubts, and the result was remarkable. "Before I had almost finished the first verse, she opened her eyes and was well." Confused and amazed, he returned to Parris's house, and they discussed the horrifying manifestations of Satan's power. The next morning, he attended the examination of Rebecca Nurse and left early to finish his preparations for the service that had been scheduled for that afternoon.[ii.76]

I say arranged, because the facts in this case prove long-concerted arrangement. He was to preach a sermon that day. Word must have been sent to him weeks before. After reaching the village, every hour had been occupied in exciting spectacles and engrossing experiences, filling his mind with the fanatical enthusiasm requisite to give force and fire to the delivery of the discourse. He could not possibly have written it after coming to the place. He must have brought it in his pocket. It is a thoroughly elaborated and carefully constructed performance, requiring long and patient application to compose it, and exhausting all the resources of theological research and reference, and of artistic skill and finish. It is adapted to the details of an occasion which was prepared to meet it. Not only the sermon but the audience were the result of arrangement carefully made in the stages of preparation and in the elements comprised in it. The preceding steps had all been seasonably and appositely taken, so that, when the regular lecture afternoon came, Lawson would have his voluminous discourse ready, and a congregation be in waiting to hear it, with minds suitably wrought upon by the preceding incidents of the day, to be thoroughly and permanently impressed by it. The occasion had been heralded by a train of circumstances drawing everybody to the spot. The magistrates were already there, some of them by virtue of the necessity of official presence in the earlier part of the day, and others came in from the neighborhood; the ministers gathered from[ii.77] the towns in the vicinity; men and women came from all quarters, flocking along the highways and the by-ways, large numbers on horseback, and crowds on foot. Probably the village meeting-house, and the grounds around it, presented a spectacle such as never was exhibited elsewhere. Awe, dread, earnestness, a stern but wild fanaticism, were stamped on all countenances, and stirred the heaving multitude to its depths, and in all its movements and utterances. It is impossible to imagine a combination of circumstances that could give greater advantage and power to a speaker, and Lawson was equal to the situation. No discourse was ever more equal, or better adapted, to its occasion. It was irresistible in its power, and carried the public mind as by storm.

I say arranged because the facts in this case demonstrate a long-planned setup. He was supposed to deliver a sermon that day. He must have received word weeks in advance. After arriving in the village, he spent every hour captivated by exciting sights and engaging experiences, filling his mind with the passionate enthusiasm needed to passionately deliver the sermon. He couldn’t have possibly written it after getting there. He must have had it in his pocket. It is a thoroughly detailed and carefully crafted piece, requiring extensive time and patience to compose, utilizing all the resources of theological research, reference, and artistic skill. It fits the specifics of an occasion that was prepared to match it. Not only the sermon but also the audience were the outcome of meticulously arranged preparations. Every prior step was timely and appropriate, ensuring that when the regular lecture time arrived, Lawson would have his lengthy discourse ready, and a congregation waiting to hear it, with minds properly influenced by the earlier events of the day, ready to be thoroughly and permanently impacted. The occasion had been marked by a series of circumstances bringing everyone to the location. The magistrates were already present, some due to the necessity of their official duties earlier that day, and others came in from the surrounding area; ministers arrived from[ii.77] nearby towns; men and women came from all directions, flocking along the roads and paths, many on horseback, and crowds on foot. The village meeting-house and the grounds around it likely presented a scene never seen anywhere else. Awe, fear, seriousness, and a fierce but wild fanaticism were evident on all faces, stirring the crowd deeply in all its movements and expressions. It’s hard to imagine a combination of circumstances that could give a speaker more advantage and power, and Lawson was up for the challenge. No sermon was ever more fitting or better suited to its occasion. It was irresistible in its power and swept the public mindset like a storm.

The text is Zechariah, iii. 2: "And the Lord said unto Satan, The Lord rebuke thee, O Satan! even the Lord that hath chosen Jerusalem rebuke thee: is not this a brand plucked out of the fire?" After an allusion to the rebellion of Satan, and his fall from heaven with his "accursed legions," and after representing them as filled "with envy and malice against all mankind," seeking "by all ways and means to work their ruin and destruction for ever, opposing to the utmost all persons and things appointed by the Lord Jesus Christ as means or instruments of their comfort here or salvation hereafter," he proceeds, in the manner of those days, to open his text and spread out his subject, all along exhibiting great ability, skill, and power, showing learning in his illustrations, draw[ii.78]ing aptly and abundantly from the Scriptures, and, at the right points, rising to high strains of eloquence in diction and imagery.

The text is Zechariah, iii. 2: "And the Lord said to Satan, The Lord rebuke you, O Satan! even the Lord who has chosen Jerusalem rebuke you: is this not a brand pulled out of the fire?" After referencing Satan's rebellion and his fall from heaven with his "cursed legions," and depicting them as filled "with envy and malice against all mankind," seeking "by every possible means to bring about their ruin and destruction forever, opposing all people and things designated by the Lord Jesus Christ as sources of comfort here or salvation hereafter," he then proceeds, in the style of that time, to elaborate on his text and unfold his topic, consistently demonstrating great skill and ability, showcasing knowledge in his examples, drawing effectively and abundantly from the Scriptures, and, at the appropriate moments, rising to lofty heights of eloquence in his language and imagery.

He describes, at great length and with abundant instances ingeniously selected from sacred and profane literature, the marvellous power with which Satan is enabled to operate upon mankind. He says,—

He describes, in great detail and with plenty of cleverly chosen examples from both sacred and secular literature, the incredible power that Satan has to influence humanity. He states,—

"He is a spirit, and hence strikes at the spiritual part, the most excellent (constituent) part of man. Primarily disturbing and interrupting the animal and vital spirits, he maliciously operates upon the more common powers of the soul by strange and frightful representations to the fancy or imagination; and, by violent tortures of the body, often threatening to extinguish life, as hath been observed in those that are afflicted amongst us. And not only so, but he vents his malice in diabolical operations on the more sublime and distinguishing faculties of the rational soul, raising mists of darkness and ignorance in the understanding.... Sometimes he brings distress upon the bodies of men, by malignant operations in, and diabolical impressions on, the spirituous principle or vehicle of life and motion.... There are certainly some lower operations of Satan (whereof there are sundry examples among us), which the bodies and souls of men and women are liable unto. And whosoever hath carefully observed those things must needs be convinced, that the motions of the persons afflicted, both as to the manner and as to the violence of them, are the mere effects of diabolical malice and operations, and that it cannot rationally be imagined to proceed from any other cause whatever.... Satan exerts his malice mediately by employing some of mankind and other creatures, and he frequently[ii.79] useth other persons or things, that his designs may be the more undiscernible. Thus he used the serpent in the first temptation (Gen. iii. 1). Hence he contracts and indents with witches and wizards, that they shall be the instruments by whom he may more secretly affect and afflict the bodies and minds of others; and, if he can prevail upon those that make a visible profession, it may be the better covert unto his diabolical enterprise, and may the more readily pervert others to consenting unto his subjection. So far as we can look into those hellish mysteries, and guess at the administration of that kingdom of darkness, we may learn that witches make witches by persuading one the other to subscribe to a book or articles, &c.; and the Devil, having them in his subjection, by their consent, he will use their bodies and minds, shapes and representations, to affright and afflict others at his pleasure, for the propagation of his infernal kingdom, and accomplishing his devised mischiefs to the souls, bodies, and lives of the children of men, yea, and of the children of God too, so far as permitted and is possible.... He insinuates into the society of the adopted children of God, in their most solemn approaches to him, in sacred ordinances, endeavoring to look so like the true saints and ministers of Christ, that, if it were possible, he would deceive the very elect (Matt. xxiv. 24) by his subtilty: for it is certain he never works more like the Prince of darkness than when he looks most like an angel of light; and, when he most pretends to holiness, he then doth most secretly, and by consequence most surely, undermine it, and those that most excel in the exercise thereof."

He is a spirit, so he targets the spiritual aspect, which is the most important part of a person. First, he disrupts and interferes with the basic animal and vital energies, then he maliciously attacks the more common powers of the soul through strange and frightening images that affect the mind or imagination; often inflicting severe pain on the body and threatening to take away life, as has been seen in those suffering among us. Not only that, but he displays his malice through wicked acts on the higher and more distinctive abilities of the rational soul, creating clouds of darkness and ignorance in understanding.... Sometimes he brings suffering to people's bodies through harmful actions and evil influences on the vital force or life principle.... There are certainly some lower-level activities of Satan (which we can see in various examples around us), affecting both the bodies and souls of men and women. Anyone who has closely observed these things must be convinced that the movements of the afflicted, in both their manner and intensity, are purely the result of evil malice and actions, and it cannot reasonably be imagined to come from any other source.... Satan expresses his malice indirectly by using some humans and other creatures, often employing others so that his schemes are less detectable. For example, he used the serpent in the first temptation (Gen. iii. 1). Therefore, he collaborates with witches and wizards so that they can be the means by which he secretly influences and harms the bodies and minds of others; and if he can persuade those who make a visible profession of faith, it makes his malicious plans easier to conceal and can more easily lead others to consent to his control. As much as we can understand these hellish mysteries and the workings of that dark kingdom, we learn that witches create more witches by convincing each other to sign a book or articles, etc.; and once the Devil has them under his control, through their consent, he will use their bodies and minds, forms and images, to scare and torment others at will, furthering his dark kingdom and fulfilling his malicious schemes against the souls, bodies, and lives of humans, including the children of God, as far as allowed and possible.... He infiltrates the community of God's adopted children during their most sacred moments with Him, trying to appear so much like true saints and ministers of Christ that, if it were possible, he would deceive even the very elect (Matt. xxiv. 24) with his cunningness: for it is clear he never resembles the Prince of Darkness more than when he appears most like an angel of light; and when he pretends to be most holy, he is secretly, and thus most certainly, undermining it and those who excel in practicing it.

The following is a specimen of the style in which he stirred up the people:[ii.80]

The following is an example of the way he inspired the crowd:[ii.80]

"The application of this doctrine to ourselves remains now to be attended. Let it be for solemn warning and awakening to all of us that are before the Lord at this time, and to all others of this whole people, who shall come to the knowledge of these direful operations of Satan, which the holy God hath permitted in the midst of us.

"The application of this doctrine to us is what we need to focus on now. Let it serve as a serious warning and a wake-up call for all of us who are here before the Lord at this moment, and for everyone in our community who will become aware of these harmful actions of Satan, which a holy God has allowed among us."

"The Lord doth terrible things amongst us, by lengthening the chain of the roaring lion in an extraordinary manner, so that the Devil is come down in great wrath (Rev. xii. 12), endeavoring to set up his kingdom, and, by racking torments on the bodies, and affrightening representations to the minds of many amongst us, to force and fright them to become his subjects. I may well say, then, in the words of the prophet (Mic. vi. 9), 'The Lord's voice crieth to the city,' and to the country also, with an unusual and amazing loudness. Surely, it warns us to awaken out of all sleep, of security or stupidity, to arise, and take our Bibles, turn to, and learn that lesson, not by rote only, but by heart. 1 Pet. v. 8: 'Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the Devil goes about as a roaring lion, seeking whom amongst you he may distress, delude, and devour.'... Awake, awake then, I beseech you, and remain no longer under the dominion of that prince of cruelty and malice, whose tyrannical fury we see thus exerted against the bodies and minds of these afflicted persons!... This warning is directed to all manner of persons, according to their condition of life, both in civil and sacred order; both high and low, rich and poor, old and young, bond and free. Oh, let the observation of these amazing dispensations of God's unusual and strange Providence quicken us to our duty, at such a time as this, in our respective places and stations, relations and capacities! The great God hath done such things amongst us as do[ii.81] make the ears of those that hear them to tingle (Jer. xix. 3); and serious souls are at a loss to what these things may grow, and what we shall find to be the end of this dreadful visitation, in the permission whereof the provoked God as a lion hath roared, who can but fear? the Lord hath spoken, who can but prophesy? (Amos iii. 8.) The loud trumpet of God, in this thundering providence, is blown in the city, and the echo of it heard through the country, surely then the people must and ought to be afraid (Amos iii. 6).... You are therefore to be deeply humbled, and sit in the dust, considering the signal hand of God in singling out this place, this poor village, for the first seat of Satan's tyranny, and to make it (as 'twere) the rendezvous of devils, where they muster their infernal forces; appearing to the afflicted as coming armed to carry on their malicious designs against the bodies, and, if God in mercy prevent not, against the souls, of many in this place.... Be humbled also that so many members of this church of the Lord Jesus Christ should be under the influences of Satan's malice in these his operations; some as the objects of his tyranny on their bodies to that degree of distress which none can be sensible of but those that see and feel it, who are in the mean time also sorely distressed in their minds by frightful representations made by the devils unto them. Other professors and visible members of this church are under the awful accusations and imputations of being the instruments of Satan in his mischievous actings. It cannot but be matter of deep humiliation, to such as are innocent, that the righteous and holy God should permit them to be named in such pernicious and unheard-of practices, and not only so, but that he who cannot but do right should suffer the stain of suspected guilt to be, as it were, rubbed on and[ii.82] soaked in by many sore and amazing circumstances. And it is a matter of soul-abasement to all that are in the bond of God's holy covenant in this place, that Satan's seat should be amongst them, where he attempts to set up his kingdom in opposition to Christ's kingdom, and to take some of the visible subjects of our Lord Jesus, and use at least their shapes and appearances, instrumentally, to afflict and torture other visible subjects of the same kingdom. Surely his design is that Christ's kingdom may be divided against itself, that, being thereby weakened, he may the better take opportunity to set up his own accursed powers and dominions. It calls aloud then to all in this place in the name of the blessed Jesus, and words of his holy apostle (1 Peter v. 6), 'Humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God.'

The Lord is doing terrible things among us, extending the chain of the roaring lion in a remarkable way, so that the Devil has come down in great anger (Rev. xii. 12), trying to establish his kingdom by inflicting pain on bodies and frightening many in our midst to force them into becoming his followers. I can rightly say, using the words of the prophet (Mic. vi. 9), 'The Lord's voice cries out to the city,' and to the country as well, with an unusual and overwhelming loudness. It truly warns us to wake up from all sleep, whether of safety or ignorance, to rise, grab our Bibles, turn to them, and learn that lesson not just by heart, but genuinely. 1 Pet. v. 8: 'Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the Devil goes around like a roaring lion, seeking whom among you he may distress, deceive, and devour.'... Wake up, wake up, I urge you, and no longer remain under the control of that prince of cruelty and malice, whose tyrannical rage we see displayed against the bodies and minds of these suffering individuals!... This warning is meant for everyone, according to their situation in life, whether in civil or spiritual roles; rich or poor, young or old, free or enslaved. Oh, let the observation of these astonishing events of God's strange and unusual Providence motivate us toward our duty at such a time like this, in our respective positions, relationships, and capacities! The great God has done such things among us that make the ears of those who hear them tingle (Jer. xix. 3); serious souls are puzzled by what these events may lead to and what the outcome of this dreadful visitation might be. If God, in His anger, has roared like a lion, who can help but fear? The Lord has spoken, who can help but prophesy? (Amos iii. 8.) The loud trumpet of God in this powerful providence is sounding in the city, and its echo is heard through the entire country, so the people must and should be afraid (Amos iii. 6).... You are to be deeply humbled and sit in the dust, considering how God has singled out this place, this poor village, to be the center of Satan's tyranny, making it seem like the gathering place for devils, where they recruit their forces; coming to the afflicted as if armed to carry out their malicious intentions against their bodies, and if God doesn’t intervene, against the souls of many here.... Be humbled also that so many members of this church of the Lord Jesus Christ should be under the influence of Satan's malevolence in these actions; some are the targets of his brutality to the extent that no one can understand it except those who see and feel it, while at the same time they are also deeply troubled in their minds by frightening images conjured by the devils. Other members of this church are under the terrible accusations of being instruments of Satan in his wicked deeds. It must be a cause for deep humiliation for the innocent that the righteous and holy God would allow them to be associated with such harmful and unprecedented actions, not just that, but that He, who always does right, would allow the stain of suspected guilt to be, so to speak, rubbed on and soaked in by many painful and astonishing circumstances. And it is a source of humiliation to all who are in the bond of God's holy covenant in this place that Satan's stronghold should be among them, where he tries to establish his kingdom in opposition to Christ's kingdom, and to take some of the visible subjects of our Lord Jesus, using at least their shapes and appearances, as instruments to afflict and torment other visible subjects of the same kingdom. Surely his plan is to divide Christ's kingdom against itself, so that by weakening it, he may better seize the chance to establish his own cursed powers and reigns. It calls out loudly then to all in this place, in the name of the blessed Jesus, and the words of his holy apostle (1 Peter v. 6), 'Humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God.'

"It is matter of terror, amazement, and astonishment, to all such wretched souls (if there be any here in the congregation; and God, of his infinite mercy, grant that none of you may ever be found such!) as have given up their names and souls to the Devil; who by covenant, explicit or implicit, have bound themselves to be his slaves and drudges, consenting to be instruments in whose shapes he may torment and afflict their fellow-creatures (even of their own kind) to the amazing and astonishing of the standers-by. I would hope I might have spared this use, but I desire (by divine assistance) to declare the whole counsel of God; and if it come not as conviction where it is so, it may serve for warning, that it may never be so. For it is a most dreadful thing to consider that any should change the service of God for the service of the Devil, the worship of the blessed God for the worship of the cursed enemy of God and man. But, oh! (which is yet a thousand times worse) how shall I name it? if any that are in the visible covenant of[ii.83] God should break that covenant, and make a league with Satan; if any that have sat down and eat at Christ's Table, should so lift up their heel against him as to have fellowship at the table of devils, and (as it hath been represented to some of the afflicted) eat of the bread and drink of the wine that Satan hath mingled. Surely, if this be so, the poet is in the right, "Audax omnia perpeti. Gens humana ruit per vetitum nefas:" audacious mortals are grown to a fearful height of impiety; and we must cry out in Scripture language, and that emphatical apostrophe of the Prophet Jeremy (chap. ii. 12), 'Be astonished, O ye heavens, at this, and be horribly afraid: be ye very desolate, saith the Lord.'... If you are in covenant with the Devil, the intercession of the blessed Jesus is against you. His prayer is for the subduing of Satan's power and kingdom, and the utter confounding of all his instruments. If it be so, then the great God is set against you. The omnipotent Jehovah, one God in three Persons; Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, in their several distinct operations and all their divine attributes,—are engaged against you. Therefore know ye that are guilty of such monstrous iniquity, that He that made you will not save you, and that He that formed you will show you no favor (Isa. xxvii. 11). Be assured, that, although you should now evade the condemnation of man's judgment, and escape a violent death by the hand of justice; yet, unless God shall give you repentance (which we heartily pray for), there is a day coming when the secrets of all hearts shall be revealed by Jesus Christ (Rom. ii. 16). Then, then, your sin will find you out; and you shall be punished with everlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord, and doomed to those endless, easeless, and remediless torments prepared for the Devil and his angels (Matt. xxv. 41).... If you[ii.84] have been guilty of such impiety, the prayers of the people of God are against you on that account. It is their duty to pray daily, that Satan's kingdom may be suppressed, weakened, brought down, and at last totally destroyed; hence that all abettors, subjects, defenders, and promoters thereof, may be utterly crushed and confounded. They are constrained to suppress that kindness and compassion that in their sacred addresses they once bare unto you (as those of their own kind, and framed out of the same mould), praying with one consent, as the royal prophet did against his malicious enemies, the instruments of Satan (Ps. cix. 6), 'Set thou a wicked man over him, and let Satan stand at his right hand' (i.e.), to withstand all that is for his good, and promote all that is for his hurt; and (verse 7) 'When he is judged, let him be condemned, and let his prayer become sin.'

It's terrifying, shocking, and astonishing for all those unfortunate souls (if any are present here; and may God’s infinite mercy ensure that none of you are among them!) who have surrendered their names and souls to the Devil; those who, through either explicit or implicit agreements, have bound themselves as his slaves, agreeing to become instruments through which he can torment their fellow creatures (even those of their own kind) to the amazement and shock of onlookers. I wish I could avoid this topic, but I feel compelled (with divine assistance) to share God's complete message; and if it doesn’t serve as a conviction where needed, it may act as a warning to prevent it from ever being so. It's a dreadful thought that anyone would trade the service of God for the service of the Devil, and worship the blessed God in exchange for the worship of the cursed enemy of God and humanity. But, oh! (which is a thousand times worse) how can I even name it? If anyone in the visible covenant of[ii.83] God breaks that covenant and makes a deal with Satan; if anyone who has sat down and eaten at Christ's Table lifts their heel against Him by joining the table of devils, and (as some of the afflicted have described) eats the bread and drinks the wine mixed by Satan. Surely, if this is the case, the poet is right, "Bold mortals endure everything. Humanity falls through forbidden evil:" audacious humans have reached an alarming level of wickedness; and we must cry out in the words of Scripture, echoing the urgent message of the Prophet Jeremiah (Jer. 2:12), 'Be astonished, O heavens, at this, and be horrified: be very desolate, says the Lord.'... If you have a covenant with the Devil, the intercession of blessed Jesus is against you. His prayer is for the downfall of Satan's power and kingdom, and the complete defeat of all his instruments. If this is true, then the great God is against you. The all-powerful Jehovah, one God in three Persons; Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, with their distinct operations and divine attributes,—are set against you. So, know you who are guilty of such monstrous wickedness, that the one who made you will not save you, and that the one who formed you will show you no favor (Isa. 27:11). Be assured that, even if you manage to avoid human judgment and escape a violent death at the hands of justice; unless God grants you repentance (which we fervently pray for), there will come a day when the secrets of all hearts will be revealed by Jesus Christ (Rom. 2:16). Then, your sin will find you out; and you will face eternal destruction from the presence of the Lord, and be sentenced to the endless, ease-less, and unyielding torments prepared for the Devil and his angels (Matt. 25:41).... If you[ii.84] have committed such impiety, the prayers of God's people are against you because of it. It is their duty to pray daily for the suppression, weakening, and eventual complete destruction of Satan's kingdom; thus, all supporters, subjects, defenders, and promoters of it may be utterly crushed and confounded. They are forced to set aside the kindness and compassion they once had in their sacred prayers for you (as those of their own kind, shaped from the same mold), praying unanimously, as the royal prophet did against his malicious enemies, the instruments of Satan (Ps. 109:6), 'Set a wicked man over him, and let Satan stand at his right hand' (i.e.), to oppose everything good for him and promote all that harms him; and (verse 7) 'When he is judged, let him be condemned, and may his prayer become sin.'

"Be we exhorted and directed to exercise true spiritual sympathy with, and compassion towards, those poor, afflicted persons that are by divine permission under the direful influence of Satan's malice. There is a divine precept enjoining the practice of such duty: Heb. xiii. 3, 'Remember them that suffer adversity, as being yourselves also in the body.' Let us, then, be deeply sensible, and, as the elect of God, put on bowels of mercy towards those in misery (Col. iii. 12). Oh, pity, pity them! for the hand of the Lord hath touched them, and the malice of devils hath fallen upon them.

"Let us be encouraged and guided to show real spiritual sympathy and compassion for those poor, suffering people who are, by God's allowance, under the harsh influence of Satan's evil. There’s a divine command that calls us to practice this duty: Heb. xiii. 3, 'Remember those who are struggling, as if you yourselves were also in their situation.' So, let's be truly aware and, as God's chosen ones, embrace a spirit of mercy toward those in pain (Col. iii. 12). Oh, have compassion for them! For the hand of the Lord has touched them, and the malice of devils has come upon them."

"Let us be sure to take unto us and put on the whole armor of God, and every piece of it; let none be wanting. Let us labor to be in the exercise and practice of the whole company of sanctifying graces and religious duties. This important duty is pressed, and the particular pieces of that armor recited Eph. vi. 11 and 13 to 18. Satan is repre[ii.85]senting his infernal forces; and the devils seem to come armed, mustering amongst us. I am this day commanded to call and cry an alarm unto you: Arm, arm, arm! handle your arms, see that you are fixed and in a readiness, as faithful soldiers under the Captain of our salvation, that, by the shield of faith, ye and we all may resist the fiery darts of the wicked; and may be faithful unto death in our spiritual warfare; so shall we assuredly receive the crown of life (Rev. ii. 10). Let us admit no parley, give no quarter: let none of Satan's forces or furies be more vigilant to hurt us than we are to resist and repress them, in the name, and by the spirit, grace, and strength of our Lord Jesus Christ. Let us ply the throne of grace, in the name and merit of our Blessed Mediator, taking all possible opportunities, public, private, and secret, to pour out our supplications to the God of our salvation. Prayer is the most proper and potent antidote against the old Serpent's venomous operations. When legions of devils do come down among us, multitudes of prayers should go up to God. Satan, the worst of all our enemies, is called in Scripture a dragon, to note his malice; a serpent, to note his subtilty; a lion, to note his strength. But none of all these can stand before prayer. The most inveterate malice (as that of Haman) sinks under the prayer of Esther (chap. iv. 16). The deepest policy (the counsel of Achitophel) withers before the prayer of David (2 Sam. xv. 31); and the vastest army (an host of a thousand thousand Ethiopians) ran away, like so many cowards, before the prayer of Asa (2 Chron. xiv. 9 to 15).

"Let's make sure to take on and wear the full armor of God, making sure we have every piece; we shouldn’t leave anything out. We should work to practice all the sanctifying graces and religious duties together. This important responsibility is emphasized, and the specific pieces of that armor are listed in Eph. vi. 11 and 13 to 18. Satan is gathering his evil forces, and the demons seem to come ready for battle among us. Today, I am called to raise an alarm to you: Arm, arm, arm! Prepare your weapons; make sure you’re ready and alert, as loyal soldiers under the Captain of our salvation, so that, by the shield of faith, we can all resist the fiery darts of the wicked and remain faithful until death in our spiritual fight; then we will surely receive the crown of life (Rev. ii. 10). Let’s not entertain any negotiation, give no mercy: let none of Satan's forces or fury be more alert to harm us than we are to resist and push them back, in the name, and by the spirit, grace, and strength of our Lord Jesus Christ. Let’s seek the throne of grace, through the name and merit of our Blessed Mediator, seizing every chance, public, private, and secret, to pour out our prayers to the God of our salvation. Prayer is the best and most powerful antidote against the old Serpent’s poisonous actions. When legions of demons come among us, countless prayers should rise to God. Satan, our worst enemy, is referred to in Scripture as a dragon, highlighting his malice; a serpent, noting his cunning; and a lion, emphasizing his strength. But none of these can withstand prayer. The deepest malice (like that of Haman) crumbles under Esther’s prayer (chap. iv. 16). The most clever schemes (the counsel of Achitophel) fade away before David's prayer (2 Sam. xv. 31); and the largest army (a host of a thousand thousand Ethiopians) fled in fear before Asa’s prayer (2 Chron. xiv. 9 to 15)."

"What therefore I say unto one I say unto all, in this important case, Pray, pray, pray.

"What I say to one, I say to all in this important matter, Pray, pray, pray."

"To our honored magistrates, here present this day, to[ii.86] inquire into these things, give me leave, much honored, to offer one word to your consideration. Do all that in you lies to check and rebuke Satan; endeavoring, by all ways and means that are according to the rule of God, to discover his instruments in these horrid operations. You are concerned in the civil government of this people, being invested with power by their Sacred Majesties, under this glorious Jesus (the King and Governor of his church), for the supporting of Christ's kingdom against all oppositions of Satan's kingdom and his instruments. Being ordained of God to such a station (Rom. xiii. 1), we entreat you, bear not the sword in vain, as ver. 4; but approve yourselves a terror of and punishment to evil-doers, and a praise to them that do well (1 Peter ii. 14); ever remembering that ye judge not for men, but for the Lord (2 Chron. xix. 6); and, as his promise is, so our prayer shall be for you, without ceasing, that he would be with you in the judgment, as he that can and will direct, assist, and reward you. Follow the example of the upright Job (chap. xxix. 16): Be a father to the poor; to these poor afflicted persons, in pitiful and painful endeavors to help them; and the cause that seems to be so dark, as you know not how to determine it, do your utmost, in the use of all regular means, to search it out.

"To our respected magistrates present today, to[ii.86] inquire into these matters, I kindly ask for your attention to offer a thought for your consideration. Please do everything in your power to confront and oppose Satan; strive by all appropriate means according to God's rules to reveal his agents in these dreadful actions. You hold a position in the civil government of this community, granted authority by their Sacred Majesties, under this glorious Jesus (the King and Leader of his church), to uphold Christ's kingdom against all challenges from Satan's realm and his agents. As God's appointed leaders (Rom. xiii. 1), we urge you not to wield the sword in vain, as stated in verse 4; instead, prove yourselves a force against wrongdoers and a support to those who do good (1 Peter ii. 14); always remembering that you judge not for mankind, but for the Lord (2 Chron. xix. 6); and as promised, our prayers will be for you, without ceasing, that He would be with you in judgment, directing, assisting, and rewarding you. Follow the example of the righteous Job (chap. xxix. 16): Be a protector to the poor; assist these suffering individuals in their desperate attempts for aid; and in cases that seem so unclear, where you may be unsure of how to resolve them, do your utmost to investigate using all proper means."

"There is comfort in considering that the Lord Jesus, the Captain of our salvation, hath already overcome the Devil. Christ, that blessed seed of the woman, hath given this cursed old serpent called the Devil and Satan a mortal and incurable bruise on the head (Gen. iii. 15). He was too much for him in a single conflict (Matt. iv.). He opposed his power and kingdom in the possessed. He suffered not the devils to speak, because they knew him (Mark i. 34). He com[ii.87]pleted his victory by his death on the cross, and destroyed his dominion (Heb. ii. 14), that through death he might destroy death, and him that had the powers of death, that is the Devil; and by and after his resurrection made show openly unto the world, that he had spoiled principalities and powers, triumphing over them (Col. ii. 15). Hence, if we are by faith united to him, his victory is an earnest and prelibation of our conquest at last. All Satan's strugglings now are but those of a conquered enemy. It is no small comfort to consider, that Job's exercise of patience had its beginning from the Devil; but we have seen the end to be from the Lord (James v. 11). That we also may find by experience the same blessed issue of our present distresses by Satan's malice, let us repent of every sin that hath been committed, and labor to practise every duty which hath been neglected. Then we shall assuredly and speedily find that the kingly power of our Lord and Saviour shall be magnified, in delivering his poor sheep and lambs out of the jaws and paws of the roaring lion."

"There is comfort in knowing that the Lord Jesus, the leader of our salvation, has already defeated the Devil. Christ, the blessed descendant of the woman, has inflicted a fatal and unhealable wound on the head of that cursed old serpent known as the Devil and Satan (Gen. iii. 15). He was too strong for him in a single battle (Matt. iv.). He confronted his power and kingdom in the possessed. He didn't allow the demons to speak, because they recognized him (Mark i. 34). He completed his victory through his death on the cross and destroyed his reign (Heb. ii. 14), so that through death he could annihilate death and the one who had the power of death, which is the Devil; and after his resurrection, he publicly demonstrated to the world that he had stripped away rulers and authorities, triumphing over them (Col. ii. 15). Therefore, if we are united with him by faith, his victory is a promise and a preview of our ultimate triumph. All of Satan's struggles now are just those of a defeated foe. It is comforting to remember that Job's patience began because of the Devil; however, we have seen that its conclusion comes from the Lord (James v. 11). If we also want to experience the same blessed outcome from our current troubles due to Satan's malice, let us repent of every sin we've committed and strive to fulfill every duty we've neglected. Then we will surely and quickly see the kingly power of our Lord and Savior magnified in rescuing his vulnerable sheep and lambs from the jaws and claws of the roaring lion."

 

William Stoughton 

WILLIAM STOUGHTON.
Eng.d at J. Andrews's by R. Babson

WILLIAM STOUGHTON.
Eng. at J. Andrews's by R. Babson

These extended extracts are given from Lawson's discourse, partly to enable every one to estimate the effect it must have produced, under the circumstances of the occasion, but mainly because they present a living picture of the sentiments, notions, modes of thinking and reasoning, and convictions, then prevalent. No description given by a person looking back from our point of view, not having experienced the delusions of that age, no matter who might attempt the task, could adequately paint the scene. The foregoing extracts show better, I think, than any documents that have come down to us, how the subject lay[ii.88] in the minds of men at that time. They bring before us directly, without the intervention of any secondary agency, the thoughts, associations, sentiments, of that generation, in breathing reality. They carry us back to the hour and to the spot. Deodat Lawson rises from his unknown grave, comes forth from the impenetrable cloud which enveloped the closing scenes of his mortal career, and we listen to his voice, as it spoke to the multitudes that gathered in and around the meeting-house in Salem Village, on Lecture-day, March 24, 1692. He lays bare his whole mind to our immediate inspection. In and through him, we behold the mind and heart, the forms of language and thought, the feelings and passions, of the people of that day. We mingle with the crowd that hang upon his lips; we behold their countenances, discern the passions that glowed upon their features, and enter into the excitement that moved and tossed them like a tempest. We are thus prepared, as we could be in no other way, to comprehend our story.

These extended excerpts are taken from Lawson's speech, partly so that everyone can understand the impact it must have had in that moment, but mainly because they provide a vivid depiction of the feelings, ideas, ways of thinking, and beliefs that were common at the time. No one looking back from our perspective, who hasn't experienced the illusions of that period, could fully capture the scene. The previous excerpts illustrate better than any documents we've received how the topic occupied people's minds back then. They present to us directly, without any intermediary, the thoughts, connections, and emotions of that generation in a tangible way. They transport us back to that moment and place. Deodat Lawson rises from his unmarked grave, emerging from the dense fog that surrounded the final moments of his life, and we hear his voice as it addressed the crowds gathered at the meeting house in Salem Village on Lecture Day, March 24, 1692. He reveals his entire mindset for us to see. Through him, we understand the thoughts and feelings, the language and reasoning, and the emotions of the people of that time. We are among the audience hanging on his words; we see their faces, recognize the emotions etched on their features, and feel the excitement that moved them like a storm. We are thus prepared, in a way no other method could achieve, to grasp our history.

The sermon answered its end. It re-enforced the powers that had begun their work. It spread out the whole doctrine of witchcraft in a methodical, elaborate, and most impressive form. It justified and commended every thing that had been done, and every thing that remained to be done; every step in the proceedings; every process in the examinations; every kind of accusation and evidence that had been adduced; every phase of the popular belief, however wild and monstrous; every pretension of the afflicted children[ii.89] to preternatural experiences and communications, and every tale of apparitions of departed spirits and the ghosts of murdered men, women, and children, which, engendered in morbid and maniac imaginations, had been employed to fill him and others with horror, inspire revenge, and drive on the general delirium. And it fortified every point by the law and the testimony, by passages and scraps of Scripture, studiously and skilfully culled out, and ingeniously applied. It gave form to what had been vague, and authority to what had floated in blind and baseless dreams of fancy. It crystallized the disordered vagaries, that had been seething in turbulent confusion in the public mind, into a fixed, organized, and permanent shape.

The sermon achieved its purpose. It reinforced the powers that had started their work. It laid out the entire doctrine of witchcraft in a systematic, detailed, and highly impactful way. It justified and praised everything that had been done and everything that still needed to be done; every step in the process, every method of examination, every type of accusation and evidence that had been presented, every aspect of popular belief, no matter how outrageous or absurd; every claim of the afflicted children to have supernatural experiences and communications, and every story of apparitions of the dead and the ghosts of murdered individuals—men, women, and children—that, born from twisted and frenzied imaginations, had been used to instill fear, incite revenge, and fuel mass hysteria. It supported every argument with the law and testimonies, using verses and snippets of Scripture, carefully selected and cleverly applied. It gave structure to what had been unclear and authority to what had floated in blind and unfounded fantasies. It solidified the chaotic ideas that had been swirling in disarray in the public psyche into a clear, organized, and lasting form.

Its publication was forthwith called for. The manuscript was submitted to Increase and Cotton Mather of the North, James Allen and John Bailey of the First, Samuel Willard of the Old South, churches in Boston, and Charles Morton of the church in Charlestown. It was printed with a strong, unqualified indorsement of approval, signed by the names severally of these the most eminent divines of the country. The discourse was dedicated to the "worshipful and worthily honored Bartholomew Gedney, John Hathorne, Jonathan Corwin, Esqrs., together with the reverend Mr. John Higginson, pastor, and Mr. Nicholas Noyes, teacher, of the Church of Christ at Salem," with a preface, addressed to all his "Christian friends and acquaintance, the inhabitants of Salem Village." It was republished in London in 1704, under the immediate direction of its[ii.90] author. The subject is described as "Christ's Fidelity, the only Shield against Satan's Malignity;" and the titlepage is enforced by passages of Scripture (Rev. xii. 12, and Rom. xvi. 20). The interest of the volume is highly increased by an appendix, giving the substance of notes taken by Lawson on the spot, during the examinations and trials. They are invaluable, as proceeding from a chief actor in the scenes, who was wholly carried away by the delusion. They describe, in marvellous colors, the wonderful manifestations of diabolical agency in, upon, and through the afflicted children; resembling, in many respects, reports of spiritual communications prevalent in our day, although not quite coming up to them. These statements, and the preface to the discourse, are given in the Appendix to this volume. In a much briefer form, it was printed by Benjamin Harris, at Boston, in 1692; and soon after by John Dunton, in London.

Its publication was quickly requested. The manuscript was submitted to Increase and Cotton Mather of the North, James Allen and John Bailey of the First, Samuel Willard of the Old South, churches in Boston, and Charles Morton of the church in Charlestown. It was printed with a strong, unconditional endorsement of approval, signed by these prominent divines of the country. The discourse was dedicated to the "worshipful and honored Bartholomew Gedney, John Hathorne, Jonathan Corwin, Esqrs., along with the reverend Mr. John Higginson, pastor, and Mr. Nicholas Noyes, teacher, of the Church of Christ at Salem," with a preface addressed to all his "Christian friends and acquaintances, the residents of Salem Village." It was republished in London in 1704, under the direct supervision of its[ii.90] author. The topic is described as "Christ's Fidelity, the only Shield against Satan's Malignity;" and the title page is supported by passages from Scripture (Rev. xii. 12, and Rom. xvi. 20). The volume's interest is greatly enhanced by an appendix that presents notes taken by Lawson on-site during the examinations and trials. These notes are invaluable, coming from a key participant in the events, who was completely caught up in the delusion. They vividly describe the extraordinary manifestations of evil influence on, in, and through the afflicted children; resembling, in many ways, reports of spiritual communications common today, although not entirely matching them. These statements, along with the preface to the discourse, are included in the Appendix to this volume. In a much shorter form, it was printed by Benjamin Harris in Boston in 1692; and soon after by John Dunton in London.

Before dismissing Mr. Lawson's famous sermon, our attention is demanded to a remarkable paragraph in it. His strong faculties could not be wholly bereft of reason; and he had sense enough left to see, what does not appear to have occurred to others, that there might be a re-action in the popular passions, and that some might be called to account by an indignant public, if not before a stern tribunal of justice, for the course of cruelty and outrage they were pursuing, with so high a hand, against accused persons. He was not entirely satisfied that the appeal he made in his discourse to[ii.91] the people to suppress and crush out all vestiges of human feeling, and to stifle compassion and pity in their breasts, would prevail. He foresaw that the friends and families of innocent and murdered victims might one day call for vengeance; and he attempts to provide, beforehand, a defence that is truly ingenious:—

Before dismissing Mr. Lawson's famous sermon, we should pay attention to a noteworthy paragraph in it. His strong abilities couldn't completely lack reason; he was insightful enough to recognize, which others apparently missed, that there could be a backlash in the public's feelings, and that some people might be held accountable by an outraged public, if not before a strict court of justice, for the cruel and violent actions they were taking against accused individuals. He wasn't entirely convinced that his call in his speech for the people to suppress and eliminate all traces of human feeling, and to stifle compassion and pity in their hearts, would succeed. He anticipated that the friends and families of innocent and murdered victims might eventually seek revenge; and he tries to offer, in advance, a truly clever defense:—

"Give no place to the Devil by rash censuring of others, without sufficient grounds, or false accusing any willingly. This is indeed to be like the Devil, who hath the title, Διαβολος, in the Greek, because he is the calumniator or false accuser. Hence, when we read of such accusers in the latter days, they are, in the original, called Διαβολοι, calumniatores (2 Tim. iii. 3). It is a time of temptation amongst you, such as never was before: let me entreat you not to be lavish or severe in reflecting on the malice or envy of your neighbors, by whom any of you have been accused, lest, whilst you falsely charge one another,—viz., the relations of the afflicted and relations of the accused,—the grand accuser (who loves to fish in troubled waters) should take advantage upon you. Look at sin, the procuring cause; God in justice, the sovereign efficient; and Satan, the enemy, the principal instrument, both in afflicting some and accusing others. And, if innocent persons be suspected, it is to be ascribed to God's pleasure, supremely permitting, and Satan's malice subordinately troubling, by representation of such to the afflicting of others, even of such as have, all the while, we have reason to believe (especially some of them), no kind of ill-will or disrespect unto those that have been complained of by them. This giving place to the Devil avoid; for it will have uncomforta[ii.92]ble and pernicious influence upon the affairs of this place, by letting out peace, and bringing in confusion and every evil work, which we heartily pray God, in mercy, to prevent."

"Don’t give the Devil a foothold by judging others too quickly without good reason or by making false accusations knowingly. This is essentially acting like the Devil, who is called Διάβολος in Greek because he is the slanderer or false accuser. Therefore, when we read about such accusers in the last days, they are referred to in the original text as Διάβολοι, calumniatores (2 Tim. iii. 3). You are in a time of temptation like never before; I urge you not to be too harsh or quick to reflect on the malice or envy of your neighbors who have accused any of you, lest while you falsely blame one another—specifically, the relatives of the afflicted and the relatives of the accused—the great accuser (who thrives in chaos) takes advantage of you. Focus on sin as the root cause; recognize God’s justice as the supreme authority; and see Satan as the enemy, the main instigator, both in the suffering of some and in the accusations against others. If innocent people are suspected, it should be attributed to God’s will allowing it and to Satan’s malice causing trouble by presenting such accusations, even against those we have reason to believe (especially some of them) hold no ill will or disrespect toward those who have been complained about. Avoid giving place to the Devil; it will lead to uncomfortable [ii.92] and harmful effects on the matters here by disrupting peace and inviting confusion and every evil work, which we sincerely pray God, in His mercy, will prevent."

This artifice of statement, speciously covered,—while it outrages every sentiment of natural justice, and breaks every bond of social responsibility,—is found, upon close inspection, to be a shocking imputation against the divine administration. It represents the Deity, under the phrases "sovereign efficient" and "supremely permitting" in a view which affords equal shelter to every other class of criminals, even of the deepest dye, as well as those who were ready and eager to bring upon their neighbors the charge of confederacy with Satan.

This deceptive way of speaking, which seems to cover up its true meaning—while it goes against every sense of natural justice and breaks all social responsibility—is revealed, upon closer examination, to be a terrible accusation against divine governance. It portrays God, using terms like "sovereign efficient" and "supremely permitting," in a way that provides equal protection to all types of criminals, even the worst of the worst, as well as those who were quick to accuse their neighbors of being in league with Satan.

The next Sunday—March 27—was the regular communion-day of the village church; and Mr. Parris prepared duly to improve the occasion to advance the movement then so strongly under way, and to deepen still more the impression made by the events of the week, especially by Mr. Lawson's sermon. He accordingly composed an elaborate and effective discourse of his own; and a scene was arranged to follow the regular service, which could not but produce important results. An unexpected occurrence—a part not in the programme—took place, which created a sensation for the moment; but it tended, upon the whole, to heighten the public excitement, and, without much disturbing the order, only precipitated a little the progress of events.[ii.93]

The following Sunday—March 27—was the regular communion day at the village church; and Mr. Parris was prepared to take advantage of the occasion to promote the strong movement that was underway and to further deepen the impact of the events of the week, especially Mr. Lawson's sermon. He crafted an elaborate and compelling speech of his own, and a scene was planned to follow the regular service, which was likely to produce significant results. An unexpected event—something not in the agenda—occurred, creating a momentary sensation; however, it generally served to heighten public excitement and, while not greatly disrupting the order, slightly accelerated the progression of events.[ii.93]

It may well be supposed, that the congregation assembled that day with minds awfully solemnized, and altogether in a condition to be deeply affected by the services. A respectable person always prominently noticeable for her devout participation in the worship of the sanctuary, and a member of the church, had, on Monday, after a public examination, been committed to prison, and was there in irons, waiting to be tried for her life for the blackest of crimes,—a confederacy with the enemy of the souls of men, the archtraitor and rebel against the throne of God. On Thursday, another venerable, and ever before considered pious, matron of a large and influential family, a participant in their worship, and a member of the mother-church, had been consigned to the same fate, to be tried for the same horrible crime. A little child had been proved to have also joined in the infernal league. No one could tell to what extent Satan had lengthened his chain, or who, whether old or young, were in league with him. Every soul was still alive to the impressions made by Mr. Lawson's great discourse, and by the throngs of excited people, including magistrates and ministers, that had been gathered in the village.

It’s easy to imagine that the congregation gathered that day with very serious minds, all ready to be deeply moved by the service. A respected woman, known for her devoted participation in worship and a member of the church, had been sent to prison on Monday after a public examination, and was now in chains, waiting to be tried for her life for the worst of crimes—a conspiracy with the enemy of humanity, the ultimate traitor and rebel against God. On Thursday, another respected woman, always seen as pious, from a large and influential family, who also worshipped with them and was a member of the mother church, faced the same fate, set to be tried for the same terrible crime. A small child was found to have also joined this wicked group. No one knew how far Satan’s influence had spread, or who, young or old, might be in league with him. Everyone was still affected by Mr. Lawson's powerful sermon and by the crowd of excited people, including magistrates and ministers, that had gathered in the village.

The character and spirit of Mr. Parris's sermon are indicated in a prefatory note in the manuscript, "occasioned by dreadful witchcraft broke out here a few weeks past; and one member of this church, and another of Salem, upon public examination by civil authority, vehemently suspected for she-witches." The running[ii.94] title is, "Christ knows how many devils there are in his church, and who they are;" and the text is John vi. 70, 71, "Jesus answered them, Have not I chosen you twelve, and one of you is a devil? He spake of Judas Iscariot, the son of Simon; for he it was that should betray him, being one of the twelve."

The character and spirit of Mr. Parris's sermon are highlighted in a note at the beginning of the manuscript, "triggered by the terrible witchcraft that broke out here a few weeks ago; and one member of this church, and another from Salem, were strongly suspected of being she-witches during a public examination by civil authorities." The running[ii.94] title is, "Christ knows how many devils are in his church, and who they are;" and the text is John vi. 70, 71, "Jesus answered them, Have not I chosen you twelve, and one of you is a devil? He was speaking of Judas Iscariot, the son of Simon; for he was the one who would betray him, being one of the twelve."

Peter Cloyse was born May 27, 1639. He came to Salem from York, in Maine, and was one of the original members of the village church. He appears to have been a person of the greatest respectability and strength of character. He married Sarah, sister of Rebecca Nurse, and widow of Edmund Bridges. She was admitted to the village church, Jan. 12, 1690, being then about forty-eight years of age. It may well be supposed that she and her family were overwhelmed with affliction and horror by the proceedings against her sister. But, as she and her husband were both communicants, and it was sacrament-day, it was thought best for them to summon resolution to attend the service. After much persuasion, she was induced to go. She was a very sensitive person, and it must have required a great effort of fortitude. Her mind was undoubtedly much harrowed by the allusions made to the events of the week; and, when Mr. Parris announced his text, and opened his discourse in the spirit his language indicates, she could bear it no longer, but rose, and left the meeting. A fresh wind blowing at the time caused the door to slam after her. The congregation was probably startled; but Parris was not long embarrassed by the interruption, and[ii.95] she was attended to in due season. At the close of the service, the following scene occurred. I give it as Parris describes it in his church-record book:—

Peter Cloyse was born on May 27, 1639. He moved to Salem from York, Maine, and was one of the original members of the village church. He seems to have been a person of great respect and strong character. He married Sarah, the sister of Rebecca Nurse, and widow of Edmund Bridges. She was admitted to the village church on January 12, 1690, when she was about forty-eight years old. It’s likely that she and her family were overwhelmed with grief and horror by what was happening to her sister. However, since both she and her husband were church members, and it was a day for communion, they decided it was best to find the courage to attend the service. After a lot of persuasion, she agreed to go. She was a very sensitive person, and it must have taken a huge amount of strength. Her mind was surely troubled by the references to the events of the week, and when Mr. Parris announced his sermon topic and began speaking in a way that his words suggested, she could no longer stay, so she stood up and left the meeting. A gust of wind at that moment caused the door to slam shut behind her. The congregation was likely taken aback; however, Parris quickly regained his composure after the disruption, and[ii.95] she was cared for in due time. At the end of the service, the following scene took place. I recount it as Parris recorded it in his church journal:—

"After the common auditory was dismissed, and before the church's communion at the Lord's Table, the following testimony against the error of our Sister Mary Sibley, who had given direction to my Indian man in an unwarrantable way to find out witches, was read by the pastor:—

"After the congregation was dismissed, and before the church's communion at the Lord's Table, the following testimony against the mistake of our Sister Mary Sibley, who had inappropriately instructed my Indian man to uncover witches, was read by the pastor:—"

"It is altogether undeniable that our great and blessed God, for wise and holy ends, hath suffered many persons, in several families, of this little village, to be grievously vexed and tortured in body, and to be deeply tempted, to the endangering of the destruction of their souls; and all these amazing feats (well known to many of us) to be done by witchcraft and diabolical operations. It is also well known, that, when these calamities first began, which was in my own family, the affliction was several weeks before such hellish operations as witchcraft were suspected. Nay, it was not brought forth to any considerable light, until diabolical means were used by the making of a cake by my Indian man, who had his direction from this our sister, Mary Sibley; since which, apparitions have been plenty, and exceeding much mischief hath followed. But, by these means (it seems), the Devil hath been raised amongst us, and his rage is vehement and terrible; and, when he shall be silenced, the Lord only knows. But now that this our sister should be instrumental to such distress is a great grief to myself, and our godly honored and reverend neighbors, who have had the knowledge of it. Nevertheless, I do truly hope and believe, that this our sister doth truly[ii.96] fear the Lord; and I am well satisfied from her, that, what she did, she did it ignorantly, from what she had heard of this nature from other ignorant or worse persons. Yet we are in duty bound to protest against such actions, as being indeed a going to the Devil for help against the Devil: we having no such directions from nature, or God's word, it must therefore be, and is, accounted, by godly Protestants who write or speak of such matters, as diabolical; and therefore calls this our sister to deep humiliation for what she has done, and all of us to be watchful against Satan's wiles and devices.

It’s undeniable that our great and blessed God, for wise and holy reasons, has allowed many people in different families in this small village to be seriously troubled and tormented in body, and to face deep temptations that risk the destruction of their souls; and all these shocking events (well known to many of us) have been caused by witchcraft and evil acts. It’s also well known that when these troubles first started, which happened in my own family, the suffering went on for several weeks before witchcraft was even suspected. In fact, it didn’t come to light until diabolical means were used, specifically when my Indian man made a cake under the direction of our sister, Mary Sibley; since then, there have been many apparitions, and a lot of harm has followed. But it seems that through these actions, the Devil has been stirred up among us, and his anger is fierce and terrifying; only the Lord knows when he will be silenced. However, it pains me, and our esteemed and reverent neighbors who are aware of this, that our sister has been a part of such distress. Nevertheless, I truly hope and believe that our sister genuinely fears the Lord; and I am convinced from her that what she did, she did out of ignorance, influenced by what she heard from other uninformed or worse individuals. Yet, we are obligated to protest against such actions, as it is essentially turning to the Devil for help against the Devil: since we have no guidance from nature or God’s word, it must be regarded as diabolical by devout Protestants who write or speak on these matters; and this calls for our sister to deeply humble herself for what she has done, and for all of us to be vigilant against Satan's tricks and schemes.

"Therefore, as we, in duty as a church of Christ, are deeply bound to protest against it, as most directly contrary to the gospel, yet, inasmuch as this our sister did it in ignorance as she professeth and we believe, we can continue her in our holy fellowship, upon her serious promise of future better advisedness and caution, and acknowledging that she is indeed sorrowful for her rashness herein.

"Therefore, as we, in our duty as a church of Christ, are strongly committed to protesting against it, as it is most directly opposed to the gospel, we can still continue to include our sister in our holy fellowship, since she claims to have acted in ignorance and we believe it. This is based on her sincere promise to be more careful and thoughtful in the future, and acknowledging that she is truly sorry for her impulsive decision."

"Brethren, if this be your mind, that this iniquity should be thus borne witness against, manifest it by your usual sign of lifting up your hands.—The brethren voted generally, or universally: none made any exceptions.

"Brothers, if this is what you think, that this wrongdoing should be addressed, show it by your usual sign of raising your hands.—The brothers voted overwhelmingly, with no exceptions."

"Sister Sibley, if you are convinced that you herein did sinfully, and are sorry for it, let us hear it from your own mouth.—She did manifest to satisfaction her error and grief for it.

"Sister Sibley, if you truly believe that you have sinned here and feel remorse about it, please tell us in your own words.—She expressed her mistake and sorrow for it clearly."

"Brethren, if herein you have received satisfaction, testify it by lifting up your hands.—A general vote passed; no exception made.

"Brothers, if you are satisfied with this, show it by raising your hands.—A general vote was passed; no exceptions were made."

"Note.—25th March, 1692. I discoursed said sister in my study about her grand error aforesaid, and also then read to her what I had written as above to be read to the[ii.97] church; and said Sister Sibley assented to the same with tears and sorrowful confession."

Note.—March 25, 1692. I talked to her about her big mistake in my study, and then I read to her what I had written to be presented to the [ii.97] church; Sister Sibley agreed with me, crying and making a heartfelt confession.

This proceeding was of more importance than appears, perhaps, at first view. It was one of Mr. Parris's most skilful moves. The course, pursued by the "afflicted" persons had, thus far, in reference to those engaged in the prosecutions, been in the right direction. But it was manifest, after the exhibitions they had given, that they wielded a fearful power, too fearful to be left without control. They could cry out upon whomsoever they pleased; and against their accusations, armed as they were with the power to fix the charge of guilt upon any one by giving ocular demonstration that he or she was the author of their sufferings, there could be no defence. They might turn, at any moment, and cry out upon Parris or Lawson, or either or both of the deacons. Nothing could withstand the evidence of their fits, convulsions, and tortures. It was necessary to have and keep them under safe control, and, to this end, to prevent any outsiders, or any injudicious or intermeddling people, from holding intimacy with them. Parris saw this, and, with his characteristic boldness of action and fertility of resources, at once put a stop to all trouble, and closed the door against danger, from this quarter.

This situation was more significant than it might seem at first glance. It was one of Mr. Parris's most clever moves. Up until now, the actions of the "afflicted" individuals had been effective concerning those involved in the prosecutions. However, it was clear that they held a terrifying power, too frightening to be left unchecked. They could accuse anyone they chose; and against their claims, backed by the ability to point out the supposed culprit as the cause of their pain through visible manifestations, there was no defense. They could easily turn and accuse Parris, Lawson, or either of the deacons at any moment. Nothing could counter the proof of their fits, convulsions, and suffering. It was essential to keep them under strict control and to prevent any outsiders or meddling individuals from getting too close to them. Parris understood this, and with his usual boldness and resourcefulness, promptly eliminated all potential issues and blocked any threat from this angle.

Samuel Sibley was a member of the church, and a near neighbor of Mr. Parris. He was about thirty-six years of age. His wife Mary was thirty-two years of age, and also a member of the church. They[ii.98] were persons of respectable standing and good repute. Nothing is known to her disadvantage, but her foolish connection with the mystical operations going on in Mr. Parris's family; and of this she was heartily ashamed. Her penitent sensibility is quite touchingly described by Mr. Parris. It is true that what she had done was a trifle in comparison with what was going on every day in the families of Mr. Parris and Thomas Putnam: but she had acted "rashly," without "advisedness" from the right quarter, under the lead of "ignorant persons;" and therefore it was necessary to make a great ado about it, and hold her up as a warning to prevent other persons from meddling in such matters. Her husband was an uncle of Mary Walcot, one of the afflicted children; and it was particularly important to keep their relatives, and members of their immediate families, from taking any part or action in connection with them, except under due "advisedness," and the direction of persons learned in such deep matters. The family connections of the Sibleys were extensive, and a blow struck at that point would be felt everywhere. The procedure was undoubtedly effectual. After Mary Sibley had been thus awfully rebuked and distressingly exposed for dealing with "John Indian," it is not likely that any one else ever ventured to intermeddle with the "afflicted," or have any connection, except as outside spectators, with the marvellous phenomena of "diabolical operations." It will be noticed, that, while Mr. Parris thus waved the sword of disciplinary[ii.99] vengeance against any who should dare to intrude upon the forbidden ground, he occupied it himself without disguise, and maintained his hold upon it. He asserts the reality of the "amazing feats" practised by diabolical power in their midst, and enforces in the strongest language the then prevalent views and pending proceedings.

Samuel Sibley was a church member and lived close to Mr. Parris. He was around thirty-six years old, and his wife Mary, who was thirty-two, was also a church member. They[ii.98] were well-respected and had a good reputation. There was nothing against her, except for her foolish involvement with the strange happenings in Mr. Parris's household, which she deeply regretted. Mr. Parris describes her remorse quite movingly. It's true that what she did was minor compared to the chaos happening daily in the households of Mr. Parris and Thomas Putnam. However, she acted "rashly," without proper guidance from reputable sources, under the influence of "ignorant people," which meant it was necessary to make a big deal out of it and use her as an example to deter others from getting involved in such matters. Her husband was an uncle of Mary Walcot, one of the affected children, so it was especially important to keep their relatives and family members from getting involved, unless they had proper guidance from knowledgeable people in such serious matters. The Sibley family had wide connections, and any blow to them would be felt across the board. This strategy was clearly effective. After Mary Sibley was severely reprimanded and publicly shamed for dealing with "John Indian," it’s unlikely anyone else dared to interfere with the "afflicted" or engage with the strange events surrounding the "diabolical operations," except as outside observers. It should be noted that while Mr. Parris brandished the sword of disciplinary[ii.99] vengeance against anyone who dared to tread on forbidden ground, he himself occupied it openly, maintaining control over it. He claimed the reality of the "amazing feats" performed by diabolical forces amongst them and strongly advocated the widely held beliefs and ongoing actions of the time.

The operations of the week, including the solemn censure of Mary Sibley, had all worked favorably for the prosecutors and managers of the business. The magistrates, ministers, and whole body of the people, had become committed; the accusing girls had proved themselves apt and competent to their work; the public reason was prostrated, and natural sensibility stunned. All resisting forces were powerless, and all collateral dangers avoided and provided against. The movement was fully in hand. The next step was maturely considered, and, as we shall see, skilfully taken.

The actions of the week, including the serious reprimand of Mary Sibley, had all benefited the prosecutors and organizers of the case. The magistrates, ministers, and the entire community had gotten involved; the accusing girls had shown themselves capable and effective in their roles; public reasoning was overwhelmed, and natural feelings were dulled. All opposing forces were ineffective, and all potential risks were managed and addressed. The situation was under complete control. The next step was carefully thought out, and, as we will see, skillfully executed.

It is to be observed, that there was, at this time, a break in the regular government of Massachusetts. In the spring of 1689, the people had risen, seized the royal governor, Sir Edmund Andros, and put him in prison. They summoned their old charter governor, Simon Bradstreet, then living in Salem, eighty-seven years of age, to the chair of state; called the assistants of 1686 back to their seats, who provided for an election of representatives by the people of the towns; and the government thus created conducted affairs until the arrival of Sir William Phipps, in May, 1692, when Massachusetts ceased to be a[ii.100] colony, and was thenceforth, until 1774, a royal province. During these three years, from May, 1689, to May, 1692, the government was based upon an uprising of the people. It was a period of pure and absolute independence of the crown or parliament of England. Although Bradstreet's faculties were unimpaired and his spirit true and firm, his age prevented his doing much more than to give his loved and venerated name to the daring movement, and to the official service, of the people. The executive functions were, for the most part, exercised by the deputy-governor, Thomas Danforth, who was a person of great ability and public spirit. Unfortunately, at this time he was zealously in favor of the witchcraft prosecutions. Bradstreet was throughout opposed to them. Had time held off its hand, and his physical energies not been impaired, he would undoubtedly have resisted and prevented them. Danforth, it is said by Brattle, came to disapprove of them finally: but he began them by arrests in other towns, months before any thing of the kind was thought of in Salem Village; and he contributed, prominently, to give destructive and wide-spread power, in an early stage of its development, to the witchcraft delusion here.

At this time, there was a disruption in the government of Massachusetts. In the spring of 1689, the people rose up, captured the royal governor, Sir Edmund Andros, and imprisoned him. They called back their former charter governor, Simon Bradstreet, who was living in Salem at the age of eighty-seven, to take charge of the state; they reinstated the assistants from 1686 and arranged for the election of representatives by the townspeople. This newly formed government managed affairs until Sir William Phipps arrived in May 1692, at which point Massachusetts stopped being a[ii.100] colony and became a royal province until 1774. During these three years, from May 1689 to May 1692, the government emerged from a people's uprising. It was a time of complete independence from the English crown or parliament. Although Bradstreet's mind was sharp and his spirit steadfast, his age limited his ability to contribute beyond lending his respected name to the bold movement and the public service of the people. Most executive responsibilities fell to the deputy-governor, Thomas Danforth, who was capable and had a strong commitment to public service. Unfortunately, he was very much in favor of the witch trials during this time. Bradstreet consistently opposed them. Had time not affected his health, he would likely have resisted and stopped them. It's said that Danforth eventually came to oppose the trials, but he initiated them by making arrests in other towns long before there was any idea of similar actions in Salem Village, thus playing a significant role in spreading the witchcraft panic early on.

After the lapse of a week, preparations were completed to renew operations, and a higher and more commanding character given to them. On Monday, April 4, Captain Jonathan Walcot and Lieutenant Nathaniel Ingersoll went to the town, and, "for themselves and several of their neighbors," exhibited to the assistants[ii.101] residing there, John Hathorne and Jonathan Corwin, complaints against "Sarah Cloyse, the wife of Peter Cloyse of Salem Village, and Elizabeth Procter of Salem Farms, for high suspicion of sundry acts of witchcraft." There the plan of proceedings in reference to the above-said parties was agreed upon. It was the result of consultation; communications probably passing with the deputy-governor in Boston, or at his residence in Cambridge. On the 8th of April, warrants were duly issued, ordering the marshal to bring in the prisoners "on Monday morning next, being the eleventh day of this instant April, about eleven of the clock, in the public meeting-house in the town." It had been arranged, that the examination should not be, as before, in the ordinary way, before the two local magistrates, but, in an extraordinary way, before the highest tribunal in the colony, or a representation of it. For a preliminary hearing, with a view merely to commitment for trial, this surely may justly be characterized as an extraordinary, wholly irregular, and, in all points of view, reprehensible procedure. When the day came, the meeting-house, which was much more capacious than that at the village, was crowded; and the old town filled with excited throngs. Upon opening proceedings, lo and behold, instead of the two magistrates, the government of the colony was present, in the highest character it then had as "a council"! The record says,—

After a week had passed, preparations were wrapped up to resume operations, and they were given a more serious and authoritative nature. On Monday, April 4, Captain Jonathan Walcot and Lieutenant Nathaniel Ingersoll went to the town and, "for themselves and several of their neighbors," presented complaints to the assistants[ii.101] there, John Hathorne and Jonathan Corwin, against "Sarah Cloyse, the wife of Peter Cloyse of Salem Village, and Elizabeth Procter of Salem Farms, for strong suspicion of various acts of witchcraft." There, they agreed on the plan of action regarding the aforementioned individuals. This was the outcome of discussions; communications likely took place with the deputy-governor in Boston or at his home in Cambridge. On April 8, warrants were officially issued, instructing the marshal to bring the prisoners in "on Monday morning next, which would be the eleventh of this month, around eleven o'clock, at the public meeting-house in town." It had been decided that the examination would not take place, as previously, before the two local magistrates, but in an extraordinary manner, before the highest tribunal in the colony, or a representation of it. For a preliminary hearing aimed only at commitment for trial, this can definitely be described as an extraordinary, completely irregular, and, from any angle, objectionable process. When the day arrived, the meeting-house, which was much larger than the one in the village, was packed, and the old town buzzed with excited crowds. As proceedings began, instead of the two magistrates, the governing body of the colony was present, in its highest form at that time as "a council"! The record states,—

"Salem, April 11, 1692.—At a Council held at Salem, and present Thomas Danforth, Esq., deputy-governor;[ii.102] James Russell, John Hathorne, Isaac Addington, Major Samuel Appleton, Captain Samuel Sewall, Jonathan Corwin, Esquires."

"Salem, April 11, 1692.—At a Council meeting in Salem, present were Thomas Danforth, Esq., deputy governor; [ii.102] James Russell, John Hathorne, Isaac Addington, Major Samuel Appleton, Captain Samuel Sewall, and Jonathan Corwin, Esquires."

Russell was of Charlestown, Addington and Sewall of Boston, and Appleton of Ipswich. Mr. Parris, "being desired and appointed to write the examination, did take the same, and also read it before the council in public." This document has not come down to us; but Hutchinson had access to it, and the substance of it is preserved in his "History of Massachusetts."

Russell was from Charlestown, Addington and Sewall were from Boston, and Appleton was from Ipswich. Mr. Parris, "after being asked and appointed to write the examination, did so and also read it before the council in public." This document hasn’t survived; however, Hutchinson had access to it, and the main points are included in his "History of Massachusetts."

The marshal (Herrick) brought in Sarah Cloyse and Elizabeth Procter, and delivered them "before the honorable council:" and the examination was begun.

The marshal (Herrick) brought in Sarah Cloyse and Elizabeth Procter, and presented them "before the honorable council:" and the examination started.

The deputy-governor first called to the stand John Indian, and plied him, as was the course pursued on all these occasions, with leading questions:—

The deputy governor first called John Indian to the stand and grilled him, as was the usual practice in these situations, with leading questions:—

"John, who hurt you?—Goody Procter first, and then Goody Cloyse.

"John, who hurt you?—Goody Procter first, and then Goody Cloyse."

"What did she do to you?—She brought the book to me.

"What did she do to you?—She gave me the book."

"John, tell the truth: who hurts you? Have you been hurt?—The first was a gentlewoman I saw.

"John, be honest: who hurt you? Have you been hurt?—The first was a lady I met."

"Who next?—Goody Cloyse.

"Who's next?—Goody Cloyse."

"But who hurt you next?—Goody Procter.

"But who hurt you next? — Goody Procter."

"What did she do to you?—She choked me, and brought the book.

"What did she do to you?—She choked me and brought the book."

"How oft did she come to torment you?—A good many times, she and Goody Cloyse.[ii.103]

"How often did she come to bother you?—Quite a few times, she and Goody Cloyse.[ii.103]

"Do they come to you in the night, as well as the day?—They come most in the day.

"Do they visit you at night, as well as during the day?"—"They visit mostly during the day."

"Who?—Goody Cloyse and Goody Procter.

"Who?—Goody Cloyse and Goody Proctor."

"Where did she take hold of you?—Upon my throat, to stop my breath.

"Where did she grab you?—By my throat, to cut off my breath."

"Do you know Goody Cloyse and Goody Procter?—Yes: here is Goody Cloyse."

"Do you know Goody Cloyse and Goody Procter?—Yes: here is Goody Cloyse."

We may well suppose that these two respectable women must have been filled with indignation, shocked, and amazed at the statements made by the Indian, following the leading interrogatories of the Court. Sarah Cloyse broke out, "When did I hurt thee?" He answered, "A great many times." She exclaimed, "Oh, you are a grievous liar!" The Court proceeded with their questions:—

We can imagine that these two respectable women were filled with anger, shocked, and astonished by the statements made by the Indian, following the main questions from the Court. Sarah Cloyse interrupted, "When did I hurt you?" He replied, "Many times." She responded, "Oh, you are a terrible liar!" The Court continued with their questions:—

"What did this Goody Cloyse do to you?—She pinched and bit me till the blood came.

"What did this Goody Cloyse do to you?—She pinched and bit me until I bled."

"How long since this woman came and hurt you?—Yesterday, at meeting.

"How long has it been since this woman came and hurt you?—Yesterday, at the meeting."

"At any time before?—Yes: a great many times."

"Was that before?—Yes, a lot of times."

Having drawn out John Indian, the Court turned to the other afflicted ones:—

Having called John Indian forward, the Court turned to the other affected individuals:—

"Mary Walcot, who hurts you?—Goody Cloyse.

"Mary Walcot, who is hurting you? —Goody Cloyse."

"What did she do to you?—She hurt me.

"What did she do to you? —She hurt me."

"Did she bring the book?—Yes.

"Did she bring the book?—Yeah."

"What was you to do with it?—To touch it, and be well.

"What were you supposed to do with it?—Touch it and feel good."

"(Then she fell into a fit.)"

"(Then she had a seizure.)"

This put a stop to the examination for a time; but it was generally quite easy to bring witnesses out of a[ii.104] fit, and restore entire calmness of mind. All that was necessary was to lift them up, and carry them to the accused person, the touch of any part of whose body would, in an instant, relieve the sufferer. This having been done, the examination proceeded:—

This paused the examination for a while; but it was usually pretty easy to get witnesses out of a[ii.104] fit and bring them back to a calm state of mind. All it took was to lift them up and carry them to the accused person, and just touching any part of their body would instantly relieve the sufferer. Once that was done, the examination continued:—

"Doth she come alone?—Sometimes alone, and sometimes in company with Goody Nurse and Goody Corey, and a great many I do not know.

"Does she come alone?—Sometimes alone, and sometimes with Goody Nurse and Goody Corey, and a lot of others I don't know."

"(Then she fell into a fit again.)"

"(Then she had another seizure.)"

She was, probably, restored in the same way as before; but, her part being finished for that stage of the proceeding, another of the afflicted children took the stand:—

She was likely restored just like before; however, since her part was finished for that part of the process, another one of the troubled children took the stand:—

"Abigail Williams, did you see a company at Mr. Parris's house eat and drink?—Yes, sir: that was in the sacrament."

"Abigail Williams, did you see a group at Mr. Parris's house eating and drinking?—Yes, sir: that was during the sacrament."

I would call attention to the form of the foregoing questions. Hutchinson says that "Mr. Parris was over-officious: most of the examinations, although in the presence of one or more magistrates, were taken by him." He put the questions. They show, on this occasion, a minute knowledge beforehand of what the witnesses are to say, which it cannot be supposed Danforth, Russell, Addington, Appleton, and Sewall, strangers, as they were, to the place and the details of the affair, could have had. The examination proceeded:—

I want to highlight the way the previous questions were framed. Hutchinson states that "Mr. Parris was too eager to get involved: most of the examinations, even with one or more magistrates present, were conducted by him." He asked the questions. They reveal, in this instance, a detailed prior understanding of what the witnesses would say, which Danforth, Russell, Addington, Appleton, and Sewall, unfamiliar as they were with the location and specifics of the case, couldn't have had. The examination continued:—

"How many were there?—About forty, and Goody Cloyse and Goody Good were their deacons.[ii.105]

"How many were there?—About forty, and Goody Cloyse and Goody Good were their deacons.[ii.105]

"What was it?—They said it was our blood, and they had it twice that day."

"What was it?—They claimed it was our blood, and they took it twice that day."

The interrogator again turned to Mary Walcot, and inquired,—

The interrogator turned to Mary Walcot again and asked,—

"Have you seen a white man?—Yes, sir: a great many times.

"Have you seen a white guy?—Yeah, I have: a whole bunch of times."

"What sort of a man was he?—A fine grave man; and, when he came, he made all the witches to tremble.

"What kind of man was he?—A serious, impressive man; and when he arrived, all the witches trembled."

"(Abigail Williams confirmed the same, and that they had such a sight at Deacon Ingersoll's.)

"(Abigail Williams confirmed this too, saying they saw the same thing at Deacon Ingersoll's.)"

"Who was at Deacon Ingersoll's then?—Goody Cloyse, Goody Nurse, Goody Corey, and Goody Good.

"Who was at Deacon Ingersoll's then?—Goody Cloyse, Goody Nurse, Goody Corey, and Goody Good."

"(Then Sarah Cloyse asked for water, and sat down, as one seized with a dying, fainting fit; and several of the afflicted fell into fits, and some of them cried out, 'Oh! her spirit has gone to prison to her sister Nurse.')"

"(Then Sarah Cloyse asked for water and sat down, as if she were experiencing a dying fainting spell; several of the afflicted had seizures, and some of them cried out, 'Oh! her spirit has gone to prison with her sister Nurse.')"

The audacious lying of the witnesses; the horrid monstrousness of their charges against Sarah Cloyse, of having bitten the flesh of the Indian brute, and drank herself and distributed to others, as deacon, at an infernal sacrament, the blood of the wicked creatures making these foul and devilish declarations, known by her to be utterly and wickedly false; and the fact that they were believed by the deputy, the council, and the assembly,—were more than she could bear. Her soul sickened at such unimaginable depravity and wrong; her nervous system gave way; she fainted, and sunk to the floor. The manner in which the girls turned the incident against her shows how they were hardened to all human feeling, and the[ii.106] cunning art which, on all occasions, characterized their proceedings. That such an insolent interruption and disturbance, on their part, was permitted, without rebuke from the Court, is a perpetual dishonor to every member of it. The scene exhibited at this moment, in the meeting-house, is worthy of an attempt to imagine. The most terrible sensation was naturally produced, by the swooning of the prisoner, the loudly uttered and savage mockery of the girls, and their going simultaneously into fits, screaming at the top of their voices, twisting into all possible attitudes, stiffened as in death, or gasping with convulsive spasms of agony, and crying out, at intervals, "There is the black man whispering in Cloyse's ear," "There is a yellow-bird flying round her head." John Indian, on such occasions, used to confine his achievements to tumbling, and rolling his ugly body about the floor. The deepest commiseration was felt by all for the "afflicted," and men and women rushed to hold and soothe them. There was, no doubt, much loud screeching, and some miscellaneous faintings, through the whole crowd. At length, by bringing the sufferers into contact with Goody Cloyse, the diabolical fluid passed back into her, they were all relieved, and the examination was resumed. Elizabeth Procter was now brought forward.

The bold lies of the witnesses; the horrific nature of their accusations against Sarah Cloyse, claiming she had bitten the flesh of the Indian beast and drank, and distributed to others, as a deacon, at a hellish sacrament, the blood of the wicked beings making these vile and evil statements, which she knew were completely and maliciously false; and the fact that they were accepted by the deputy, the council, and the assembly—was more than she could handle. Her spirit sickened at such unimaginable corruption and injustice; her nerves gave out; she fainted and collapsed to the floor. The way the girls turned the situation against her shows how desensitized they were to any human compassion, and the[ii.106]

In the account given, in the First Part, of the population of Salem Village and the contiguous farms, her husband, John Procter, was introduced to our acquaintance. From what we then saw of him, we are well assured that he would not shrink from the protec[ii.107]tion and defence of his wife. He accompanied her from her arrest to her arraignment, and stood by her side, a strong, brave, and resolute guardian, trying to support her under the terrible trials of her situation, and ready to comfort and aid her to the extent of his power, disregardful of all consequences to himself. The examination proceeded:—

In the account given in the First Part about the population of Salem Village and the surrounding farms, her husband, John Procter, was introduced to us. From what we saw of him, we are confident that he would not hesitate to protect and defend his wife. He accompanied her from her arrest to her arraignment and stood by her side as a strong, brave, and determined guardian, trying to support her through the horrible trials of her situation, and ready to comfort and help her as much as he could, regardless of the consequences for himself. The examination continued:—

"Elizabeth Procter, you understand whereof you are charged; viz., to be guilty of sundry acts of witchcraft. What say you to it? Speak the truth; and so you that are afflicted, you must speak the truth, as you will answer it before God another day. Mary Walcot, doth this woman hurt you?—I never saw her so as to be hurt by her.

"Elizabeth Procter, you know what you're being accused of; that is, committing several acts of witchcraft. What do you say to that? Speak the truth; and you who are affected, you also must speak the truth, as you will have to answer for it before God someday. Mary Walcot, does this woman harm you?—I have never seen her in a way that would cause me harm."

"Mercy Lewis, does she hurt you?

"Mercy Lewis, is she hurting you?"

"(Her mouth was stopped.)

"(Her mouth was closed.)"

"Ann Putnam, does she hurt you?

"Ann Putnam, is she hurting you?"

"(She could not speak.)

(She couldn't speak.)

"Abigail Williams, does she hurt you?

"Does Abigail Williams hurt you?"

"(Her hand was thrust in her own mouth.)

"(Her hand was shoved in her own mouth.)"

"John, does she hurt you?—This is the woman that came in her shift, and choked me.

"John, does she hurt you?—This is the woman who came in her nightgown and choked me."

"Did she ever bring the book?—Yes, sir.

"Did she ever bring the book?—Yes, sir."

"What to do?—To write.

"What to do?—Write."

"What? this woman?—Yes, sir.

"What? This woman?—Yes, sir."

"Are you sure of it?—Yes, sir.

"Are you really sure about that?—Yes, sir."

"(Again Abigail Williams and Ann Putnam were spoke to by the Court; but neither of them could make any answer, by reason of dumbness or other fits.)

"(Again Abigail Williams and Ann Putnam were spoken to by the Court; but neither of them could respond because of muteness or other spells.)

"What do you say, Goody Procter, to these things?—I take God in heaven to be my witness, that I know nothing of it, no more than the child unborn.[ii.108]

"What do you say, Goody Procter, about these things?—I swear to God in heaven, I know nothing of it, just like an unborn child does.[ii.108]

"Ann Putnam, doth this woman hurt you?—Yes, sir: a great many times.

"Ann Putnam, is this woman hurting you?—Yes, sir: a lot of times."

"(Then the accused looked upon them, and they fell into fits.)

"(Then the accused looked at them, and they fell into fits.)"

"She does not bring the book to you, does she?—Yes, sir, often; and saith she hath made her maid set her hand to it.

"She doesn’t bring the book to you, does she?—Yes, sir, often; and she says she has made her maid write it down."

"Abigail Williams, does this woman hurt you?—Yes, sir, often.

"Abigail Williams, does this woman harm you?—Yes, sir, frequently."

"Does she bring the book to you?—Yes.

"Does she bring the book to you?—Yes."

"What would she have you do with it?—To write in it, and I shall be well."

"What does she want you to do with it?—To write in it, and I'll be fine."

Turning to the accused, Abigail said, "Did not you tell me that your maid had written?" Goody Procter seems to have been utterly amazed at the conduct and charges of the girls. She knew, of course, that what they said was false; but perhaps she thought them crazy, and therefore objects of pity and compassion, and felt disposed to treat them kindly, and see whether they could not be recalled to their senses, and restored to their better nature: for Parris, in his account, says that at this point she answered the question thus put to her by Abigail thus: "Dear child, it is not so. There is another judgment, dear child." But kindness was thrown away upon them; for Parris says that immediately "Abigail and Ann had fits." After coming out of them, "they cried out, 'Look you! there is Goody Procter upon the beam.'" Instantly, as we may well suppose, the whole audience looked where they pointed. Their manner gave assurance that they saw her "on the beam," among the[ii.109] rafters of the meeting-house; but she was invisible to all other eyes. The people, no doubt, were filled with amazement at such supernaturalism. But John Procter, her husband, did not believe a word of it: and it is not to be doubted that he expressed his indignation at the nonsense and the outrage in his usual bold, strong, and unguarded language, which brought down the vengeance of the girls at once on his own head; for Parris, in his report, goes on to say:—

Turning to the accused, Abigail said, "Didn't you tell me that your maid had written?" Goody Procter seems to have been completely shocked by the girls' behavior and accusations. She knew, of course, that what they were saying was false; but maybe she thought they were insane, and therefore deserving of pity and compassion, and felt inclined to treat them kindly, hoping to bring them back to their senses and restore their better nature. Parris, in his account, notes that at this point, she responded to Abigail's question this way: "Dear child, that's not true. There's another judgment, dear child." But her kindness was wasted on them; Parris states that right after, "Abigail and Ann had fits." Once they came out of them, "they cried out, 'Look! There’s Goody Procter up on the beam.'" Immediately, as we can imagine, the whole audience looked where they pointed. Their demeanor suggested they saw her "on the beam," among the[ii.109] rafters of the meeting-house; but she was invisible to everyone else. The crowd was surely filled with astonishment at such supernatural happenings. However, John Procter, her husband, didn’t believe any of it: and it's clear that he expressed his anger at the nonsense and the outrage in his usual bold, strong, and unfiltered way, which drew the wrath of the girls down on him immediately; for Parris, in his report, goes on to say:—

"(By and by, both of them cried out of Goodman Procter himself, and said he was a wizard. Immediately, many if not all of the bewitched had grievous fits.)

"(Soon enough, both of them shouted about Goodman Procter himself and claimed he was a wizard. Instantly, many, if not all, of the bewitched had severe fits.)"

"Ann Putnam, who hurt you?—Goodman Procter, and his wife too.

"Ann Putnam, who hurt you?—Mr. Procter and his wife too."

"(Afterwards, some of the afflicted cried, 'There is Procter going to take up Mrs. Pope's feet!' and her feet were immediately taken up.)

"(Afterwards, some of the troubled shouted, 'Look, Procter is going to lift Mrs. Pope's feet!' and her feet were immediately lifted.)"

"What do you say, Goodman Procter, to these things?—I know not. I am innocent.

"What do you think, Goodman Procter, about all this?—I don’t know. I’m innocent."

"(Abigail Williams cried out, 'There is Goodman Procter going to Mrs. Pope!' and immediately said Pope fell into a fit.)"

"(Abigail Williams shouted, 'There's Mr. Proctor heading to Mrs. Pope!' and immediately said that Pope collapsed.)"

At this point, the deputy, or some member of the Court interposed, if I interpret rightly Parris's report, which is here obscurely expressed, inasmuch as he does not say who spoke; but the import of the words indicates that they proceeded from some member of the Court, who was perfectly deceived:—

At this point, the deputy or another member of the Court stepped in, if I understand Parris's report correctly, which is somewhat unclear because he doesn’t specify who spoke; however, the meaning of the words suggests they came from someone in the Court who was completely misled:—

"You see, the Devil will deceive you: the children could see what you was going to do before the woman was hurt.[ii.110] I would advise you to repentance, for the Devil is bringing you out.

"You see, the Devil will trick you: the kids could see what you were going to do before the woman got hurt.[ii.110] I suggest you repent, because the Devil is leading you astray."

"(Abigail Williams cried out again, 'There is Goodman Procter going to hurt Goody Bibber!' and immediately Goody Bibber fell into a fit. There was the like of Mary Walcot, and divers others. Benjamin Gould gave in his testimony, that he had seen Goodman Corey and his wife, Procter and his wife, Goody Cloyse, Goody Nurse, and Goody Griggs in his chamber last Thursday night. Elizabeth Hubbard was in a trance during the whole examination. During the examination of Elizabeth Procter, Abigail Williams and Ann Putnam both made offer to strike at said Procter; but, when Abigail's hand came near, it opened,—whereas it was made up into a fist before,—and came down exceeding lightly as it drew near to said Procter, and at length, with open and extended fingers, touched Procter's hood very lightly. Immediately, Abigail cried out, her fingers, her fingers, her fingers burned; and Ann Putnam took on most grievously of her head, and sunk down.)"

"(Abigail Williams shouted again, 'There goes Goodman Procter trying to hurt Goody Bibber!' and right away Goody Bibber collapsed into a fit. There was also Mary Walcot and several others. Benjamin Gould testified that he saw Goodman Corey and his wife, Procter and his wife, Goody Cloyse, Goody Nurse, and Goody Griggs in his chamber last Thursday night. Elizabeth Hubbard was in a trance during the entire examination. During Elizabeth Procter's examination, both Abigail Williams and Ann Putnam attempted to strike Procter; however, when Abigail's hand got close, it opened up—although it had been clenched into a fist before—and came down very gently as it approached Procter, eventually, with her fingers spread wide, lightly touched Procter's hood. Immediately, Abigail screamed, her fingers, her fingers, her fingers are burning; and Ann Putnam cried out in agony from her head and collapsed.)"

Hutchinson, after giving Parris's account of this examination, expresses himself thus: "No wonder the whole country was in a consternation, when persons of sober lives and unblemished characters were committed to prison upon such sort of evidence. Nobody was safe." All things considered, it may perhaps be said, that, filled as the witchcraft proceedings were throughout with folly and outrage, there was nothing worse than this examination, conducted by the deputy-governor and council, on the 11th of April, 1692, in the great meeting-house of the First Church in Salem. It must have been a scene of the wildest disorder, par[ii.111]ticularly in the latter part of it. No wonder that the people in general were deluded, when the most learned councillors of the colony countenanced, participated in, and gave effect to, such disorderly procedures in a house of worship, in the presence of a high judicial tribunal, and of the then supreme government of the colony!

Hutchinson, after sharing Parris's account of this examination, stated: "No wonder the whole country was in shock when respectable people with good reputations were thrown in jail based on such flimsy evidence. Nobody felt safe." All things considered, it could be said that, given how filled with madness and injustice the witchcraft trials were, there was nothing worse than this examination, led by the deputy governor and council, on April 11, 1692, in the main meeting house of the First Church in Salem. It must have been a scene of complete chaos, especially toward the end. It’s no surprise that the general public was misled when the most educated leaders in the colony supported, took part in, and sanctioned such chaotic actions in a place of worship, in front of a high judicial court, and of the then supreme government of the colony!

Benjamin Gould gave his volunteer testimony without "advisedness," and quite incontinently. He brought out Goodman Corey before the managers were quite ready to fall upon him; and he antedated, by a considerable length of time, any such imputation upon Goody Griggs. It was well for Elizabeth Hubbard to have been in a trance, so that she could not hear the mention of her aunt's name. The council seems to have adjourned to the next day, at the same place, when Mr. Parris "gave further information against said John Procter," which, unfortunately, has not come down to us. The result was, that Sarah Cloyse, John Procter, and Elizabeth his wife, were all committed for trial, and, with Rebecca Nurse, Martha Corey, and Dorcas Good, were sent to the jail in Boston, in the custody of Marshal Herrick.

Benjamin Gould gave his volunteer testimony without any hesitation and very impulsively. He brought out Goodman Corey before the managers were fully ready to confront him; and he made accusations against Goody Griggs well before there was any reason to. It was fortunate for Elizabeth Hubbard that she was in a trance, so she couldn't hear her aunt's name being mentioned. The council seems to have adjourned to the next day, at the same place, when Mr. Parris "provided more information against said John Procter," which, unfortunately, hasn't been recorded. As a result, Sarah Cloyse, John Procter, and his wife Elizabeth were all committed for trial and, along with Rebecca Nurse, Martha Corey, and Dorcas Good, were sent to the jail in Boston, under the custody of Marshal Herrick.

The proceedings of the 11th and 12th of April produced a great effect in driving on the general infatuation. Judge Sewall, who was present as one of the council, in his diary at this date, says, "Went to Salem, where, in the meeting-house, the persons accused of witchcraft were examined; was a very great assembly; 'twas awful to see how the afflicted persons[ii.112] were agitated." In the margin is written, apparently some time afterwards, the interjection "Væ!" thrice repeated,—"Alas, alas, alas!" What perfectly deluded him and Danforth, and everybody else, were the exhibitions made by the "afflicted children." This is the grand phenomenon of the witchcraft proceedings here in 1692. It, and it alone, carried them through. Those girls, by long practice in "the circle," and day by day, before astonished and wondering neighbors gathered to witness their distresses, and especially on the more public occasions of the examinations, had acquired consummate boldness and tact. In simulation of passions, sufferings, and physical affections; in sleight of hand, and in the management of voice and feature and attitude,—no necromancers have surpassed them. There has seldom been better acting in a theatre than they displayed in the presence of the astonished and horror-stricken rulers, magistrates, ministers, judges, jurors, spectators, and prisoners. No one seems to have dreamed that their actings and sufferings could have been the result of cunning or imposture. Deodat Lawson was a man of talents, had seen much of the world, and was by no means a simpleton, recluse, or novice; but he was wholly deluded by them. The prisoners, although conscious of their own innocence, were utterly confounded by the acting of the girls. The austere principles of that generation forbade, with the utmost severity, all theatrical shows and performances. But at Salem Village and the old town, in the respective meeting-houses, and at Deacon[ii.113] Nathaniel Ingersoll's, some of the best playing ever got up in this country was practised; and patronized, for weeks and months, at the very centre and heart of Puritanism, by "the most straitest sect" of that solemn order of men. Pastors, deacons, church-members, doctors of divinity, college professors, officers of state, crowded, day after day, to behold feats which have never been surpassed on the boards of any theatre; which rivalled the most memorable achievements of pantomimists, thaumaturgists, and stage-players; and made considerable approaches towards the best performances of ancient sorcerers and magicians, or modern jugglers and mesmerizers.

The events on April 11th and 12th had a huge impact on fueling the widespread frenzy. Judge Sewall, who was there as a council member, noted in his diary, "Went to Salem, where the accused individuals were examined in the meeting-house; it was a massive gathering; it was terrifying to see how the afflicted individuals[ii.112] were in distress." In the margin, it seems that at a later point he wrote the word "Væ!" three times—"Alas, alas, alas!" What completely deceived him, Danforth, and everyone else were the displays put on by the "afflicted children." This was the key phenomenon of the witchcraft trials in 1692. It was the only thing that sustained the proceedings. Those girls, through lots of practice in "the circle," and day after day before amazed and shocked neighbors who gathered to witness their torment, especially during the more public examinations, had gained extraordinary boldness and skill. In feigning emotions, suffering, and physical symptoms; in sleight of hand, and in controlling their voice, expressions, and posture—no magicians could match them. There’s rarely been better acting in a theater than what they showcased in front of the astonished and horrified leaders, magistrates, ministers, judges, jurors, onlookers, and prisoners. No one seemed to suspect that their performances and suffering could have come from trickery or deceit. Deodat Lawson was talented, experienced in life, and by no means naive or inexperienced; yet he was completely fooled by them. The prisoners, though aware of their own innocence, were utterly baffled by the girls' performances. The strict beliefs of that time entirely prohibited any theatrical displays. But at Salem Village and the old town, in the various meeting-houses, and at Deacon[ii.113] Nathaniel Ingersoll's, some of the finest performances ever seen in this country took place; and they were supported for weeks and months at the very center of Puritanism by "the most straitest sect" of that serious group of men. Pastors, deacons, church members, theologians, college professors, and state officials gathered day after day to witness feats that have never been matched on any theater stage; which rivaled the most remarkable feats of mime artists, miracle workers, and stage actors; and came close to the best performances of ancient sorcerers and magicians, or modern illusionists and hypnotists.

The meeting of the council at Salem, on the 11th of April, 1692, changed in one sense the whole character of the transaction. Before, it had been a Salem affair. After this, it was a Massachusetts affair. The colonial government at Boston had obtruded itself upon the ground, and, of its own will and seeking, irregularly, and without call or justification, had taken the whole thing out of the hands of the local authorities into its own management. Neither the town nor the village of Salem is responsible, as a principal actor, for what subsequently took place. To that meeting of the deputy-governor and his associates in the colonial administration, at an early period of the transaction, the calamities, outrages, and shame that followed must in justice be ascribed. Had it not taken place, the delusion, as in former instances and other places here and in the mother-country,[ii.114] would have remained within its original local limits, and soon disappeared. That meeting, and the proceedings then had, gave to the fanaticism the momentum that drove it on, and extended its destructive influence far and wide.

The council meeting in Salem on April 11, 1692, changed the entire nature of the situation. Before that, it was just a Salem issue. Afterward, it became a Massachusetts issue. The colonial government in Boston intruded into the situation, taking control without invitation or justification, moving the matter out of the hands of local authorities. Neither the town nor the village of Salem is primarily responsible for what happened next. The blame for the ensuing calamities, outrages, and shame should be placed on that meeting involving the deputy governor and his associates in the colonial administration, which occurred early in the situation. If it hadn't happened, the delusion, like in previous instances in other localities here and in the mother country, would have remained confined to its original area and soon faded away. That meeting and the actions taken then provided the fanaticism with the momentum that propelled it forward and spread its devastating influence far and wide.

The next step in the proceedings is one of the most remarkable features in the case. It is, in some points of view, more suggestive of suspicion, that there was, behind the whole, a skilful and cunning management, ingeniously contriving schemes to mislead the public mind, than almost any other part of the transaction. Mary Warren, as has been said, was a servant in the family of John Procter. She was a member of the "circle" that had so long met at Mr. Parris's house or Thomas Putnam's. She was a constant attendant at its meetings, and a leading spirit among the girls. She did not take an open part against her master or mistress at their examination, although she acted with avidity and malignity against them as an accusing witness at their trials, two months afterwards. It is to be noticed, that Ann Putnam and Abigail Williams, at the examination of Elizabeth Procter, April 11, accused her of having induced or compelled "her maid to set her hand to the book."

The next step in the proceedings is one of the most striking aspects of the case. From certain angles, it's more suggestive of suspicion that there was a clever and crafty management behind everything, skillfully creating schemes to mislead the public, than almost any other part of the situation. Mary Warren, as mentioned before, was a servant in John Proctor’s household. She was part of the “circle” that had long gathered at Mr. Parris's house or Thomas Putnam's. She regularly attended its meetings and was a key figure among the girls. She didn't openly oppose her master or mistress during their examination, even though she acted with enthusiasm and malice against them as an accusing witness during their trials two months later. It’s important to note that Ann Putnam and Abigail Williams, during Elizabeth Procter’s examination on April 11, accused her of having persuaded or forced “her maid to set her hand to the book.”

On the 18th of April, warrants were got out against Giles Corey and Mary Warren, both of Salem Farms; Abigail Hobbs, daughter of William Hobbs, of Topsfield; and Bridget Bishop, wife of Edward Bishop, of Salem,—to be brought in the next forenoon, at about eight o'clock, at the house of Lieutenant Nathaniel[ii.115] Ingersoll, of Salem Village. How Mary Warren became transformed from an accuser to an accused, from an afflicted person to an afflicter, is the question. It is not easy to fathom the conduct of these girls. They appear to have acted upon a plan deliberately formed, and to have had an understanding with each other. At the same time, occasionally, they had or pretended to have a falling-out, and came into contradiction. This was perhaps a mere blind, to prevent the suspicion of collusion. The accounts given of Mary Warren seem to render it quite certain that she acted with deliberate cunning, and was a guilty conspirator with the other accusers in carrying on the plot from the beginning. No doubt, it frequently occurred to those concerned in it, that suspicions might possibly get into currency that they were acting a part in concert. It was necessary, by all means, to guard against such an idea. This may be the key to interpret the arrest and proceedings against Mary Warren. If it is, the affair, it must be confessed, was managed with great shrewdness and skill. She conducted the stratagem most dexterously. All at once she fell away from the circle, and began to talk against the "afflicted children," and went so far as to say, that they "did but dissemble." Immediately, they cried out upon her, charged her with witchcraft, and had her apprehended. After being carried to prison, she spoke in strong language against the proceedings. Four persons of unquestionable truthfulness, in prison with her, on the same charge, prepared a deposition[ii.116] to this effect: "We heard Mary Warren several times say that the magistrates might as well examine Keysar's daughter that had been distracted many years, and take notice of what she said, as well as any of the afflicted persons. 'For,' said Mary Warren, 'when I was afflicted, I thought I saw the apparitions of a hundred persons;' for she said her head was distempered that she could not tell what she said. And the said Mary told us, that, when she was well again, she could not say that she saw any of the apparitions at the time aforesaid." I will now give the substance of her examination, which commenced on the 19th of April. Mr. Parris was, as usual, requested to take minutes of the proceedings, which have been preserved:—

On April 18th, arrest warrants were issued for Giles Corey and Mary Warren, both from Salem Farms; Abigail Hobbs, daughter of William Hobbs from Topsfield; and Bridget Bishop, wife of Edward Bishop from Salem. They were to be brought in the next morning at around eight o'clock to the house of Lieutenant Nathaniel[ii.115] Ingersoll in Salem Village. The question is how Mary Warren changed from being an accuser to being accused, from being someone who was afflicted to someone who afflicted others. It's not easy to understand the behavior of these girls. They seem to have acted on a plan they had deliberately formed and had an understanding with each other. At the same time, they occasionally had or pretended to have disagreements that contradicted each other. This might have just been a ruse to avoid any suspicion of collusion. The reports about Mary Warren indicate that it’s quite clear she acted with calculated cunning and was a guilty conspirator with the other accusers in carrying out the plot from the start. No doubt, those involved likely thought that suspicions might arise that they were working together. It was crucial to avoid that notion. This could be the key to understanding the arrest and actions against Mary Warren. If so, it's fair to say the situation was managed with great cleverness and skill. She executed the scheme very deftly. Suddenly, she distanced herself from the group and began to speak out against the "afflicted children," even stating that they "were just pretending." Immediately, they turned against her, accused her of witchcraft, and had her arrested. After being taken to prison, she spoke strongly against the proceedings. Four people of unquestionable honesty who were imprisoned with her on the same charge prepared a statement[ii.116] stating: "We heard Mary Warren say several times that the magistrates might as well examine Keysar's daughter, who had been mentally disturbed for many years, and pay attention to what she said, just like any of the afflicted persons. 'Because,' said Mary Warren, 'when I was afflicted, I thought I saw the apparitions of a hundred people;' for she said her head was so disordered that she couldn't remember what she said. And Mary also told us that, once she was better, she could not say she saw any of the apparitions at that time." I will now present the gist of her examination, which began on April 19th. Mr. Parris was, as usual, asked to take notes of the proceedings, which have been preserved:—

"Examination of Mary Warren, at a Court held at Salem Village, by John Hathorne and Jonathan Corwin, Esqrs.

Examination of Mary Warren, at a Court held at Salem Village, by John Hathorne and Jonathan Corwin, Esquires.

"(As soon as she was coming towards the bar, the afflicted fell into fits.)

"(As soon as she approached the bar, the distressed started convulsing.)"

"Mary Warren, you stand here charged with sundry acts of witchcraft. What do you say for yourself? Are you guilty or not?—I am innocent.

"Mary Warren, you are here accused of various acts of witchcraft. What do you have to say for yourself? Are you guilty or not?—I am innocent."

"Hath she hurt you? (Speaking to the sufferers.)

"Has she hurt you? (Speaking to the sufferers.)"

"(Some were dumb. Betty Hubbard testified against her, and then said Hubbard fell into a violent fit.)

"(Some were clueless. Betty Hubbard testified against her, and then stated that Hubbard had a violent outburst.)"

"You were, a little while ago, an afflicted person; now you are an afflicter. How comes this to pass?—I look up to God, and take it to be a great mercy of God.

"You were, not long ago, someone who was suffering; now you are someone who causes suffering. How did this happen?—I turn to God and see it as a great mercy from Him."

"What! do you take it to be a great mercy to afflict others?

"What! Do you think it’s a great kindness to hurt others?

"(Now they were all but John Indian grievously afflicted,[ii.117] and Mrs. Pope also, who was not afflicted before hitherto this day; and, after a few moments, John Indian fell into a violent fit also.)"

"(Now they were all but John Indian seriously affected,[ii.117] and Mrs. Pope too, who hadn’t been affected until today; after a few moments, John Indian also fell into a violent fit.)"

"Well, here" (Mr. Parris, the reporter, goes on to say) "was one that just now was a tormenter in her apparition, and she owns that she had made a league with the Devil." The marvel was, that, having before been a sufferer, as one of the afflicted accusers, she had then, at that moment, appeared in the opposite character, and owned herself to have become a confederate with the Evil One. Having established this conviction in the minds of the magistrates and spectators, the point was reached at which she completed the delusion by appearing to break away from her bondage to Satan, assume the functions of a confessing and abjuring witch, and retake her place, with tenfold effect, among the accusing witnesses. The manner in which she rescued herself from the power of Satan exhibits a specimen of acting seldom surpassed. The account proceeds thus:—

"Well, here," Mr. Parris, the reporter, continues, "was someone who just a moment ago was tormented by her own ghost, and she admits that she made a pact with the Devil." The astonishing part is that, having previously been a victim among the afflicted accusers, she now appeared in the opposite role, confessing to having become an ally of the Evil One. Once this belief was firmly established in the minds of the magistrates and the audience, she completed the deception by seemingly breaking free from her ties to Satan, taking on the role of a confessing witch, and dramatically reinforcing her position among the accusing witnesses. The way she liberated herself from Satan's influence showcases a level of acting that's rarely surpassed. The account continues as follows:—

"Now Mary Warren fell into a fit, and some of the afflicted cried out that she was going to confess; but Goody Corey, and Procter and his wife, came in, in their apparition, and struck her down, and said she should tell nothing."

"Now Mary Warren collapsed in a fit, and some of the afflicted shouted that she was about to confess; but Goody Corey, Procter, and his wife arrived, in their apparition, and brought her down, insisting that she should say nothing."

What is given here in Italics, as an "apparition," was of course based upon the declarations of the accusing witnesses. It was an art they often practised in offering their testimony. They would cry out, that the Devil, generally in the shape of a black man, appeared to them at the time, whispering in the[ii.118] ear of the accused, or sitting on the beams of the meeting-house in which the examinations were generally conducted. On this occasion, they declared that three of the persons, then in jail in some other place, came in their apparitions, forbade Mary Warren's confession, and struck her down. To give full effect to their statement, she went through the process of tumbling down. Although nothing was seen by any other person present, the deception was perfect. The Rev. Mr. Parris wrote it all down as having actually occurred. His record of the transaction goes on as follows:—

What is given here in Italics, as an "apparition," was based on the statements of the accusing witnesses. It was a tactic they often used when giving their testimony. They would claim that the Devil, usually appearing as a black man, showed up at that moment, whispering in the[ii.118] ear of the accused or sitting on the beams of the meeting house where the examinations usually took place. In this instance, they insisted that three people who were in jail elsewhere appeared to them as apparitions, forbade Mary Warren's confession, and knocked her down. To support their claims, she pretended to fall. Even though no one else present saw anything, the deception was flawless. The Rev. Mr. Parris recorded everything as if it actually happened. His account of the event continues as follows:—

"Mary Warren continued a good space in a fit, that she did neither see nor hear nor speak.

"Mary Warren remained in a fit for a long time, during which she couldn't see, hear, or speak."

"Afterwards she started up, and said, 'I will speak,' and cried out, 'Oh, I am sorry for it, I am sorry for it!' and wringed her hands, and fell a little while into a fit again, and then came to speak, but immediately her teeth were set; and then she fell into a violent fit, and cried out, 'O Lord, help me! O good Lord, save me!'

"After that, she got up and said, 'I have something to say,' and shouted, 'Oh, I'm so sorry for this, I'm so sorry!' She wrung her hands and then had another fit for a little while. When she started to speak again, her teeth were clenched; then she fell into a violent fit and cried out, 'Oh Lord, help me! Oh good Lord, save me!'"

"And then afterwards cried again, 'I will tell, I will tell!' and then fell into a dead fit again.

"And then afterwards cried again, 'I will tell, I will tell!' and then fell into a dead fit again."

"And afterwards cried, 'I will tell, they did, they did, they did;' and then fell into a violent fit again.

"And then she cried, 'I will tell, they did, they did, they did;' and then fell into another violent fit."

"After a little recovery, she cried, 'I will tell, I will tell. They brought me to it;' and then fell into a fit again, which fits continuing, she was ordered to be led out, and the next to be brought in, viz., Bridget Bishop.

"After a brief recovery, she cried, 'I will tell, I will tell. They brought me to it;' and then fell into another fit. As the fits continued, they ordered her to be taken out, and the next person to be brought in was Bridget Bishop."

"Some time afterwards, she was called in again, but immediately taken with fits for a while.

Some time later, she was called in again but soon had a fit for a little while.

"'Have you signed the Devil's book?—No.'[ii.119]

"'Have you signed the Devil's book?—No.'[ii.119]

"'Have you not touched it?—No.'

"'Haven't you touched it?—No.'"

"Then she fell into fits again, and was sent forth for air.

"Then she had another fit and was taken outside for some fresh air."

"After a considerable space of time, she was brought in again, but could not give account of things by reason of fits, and so sent forth.

"After a significant amount of time, she was brought in again, but couldn’t explain what had happened because of her convulsions, so she was sent away."

"Mary Warren called in afterwards in private, before magistrates and ministers.

"Mary Warren came in later, privately, before the magistrates and ministers."

"She said, 'I shall not speak a word: but I will, I will speak, Satan! She saith she will kill me. Oh! she saith she owes me a spite, and will claw me off. Avoid Satan, for the name of God, avoid!' and then fell into fits again, and cried, 'Will ye? I will prevent ye, in the name of God.'"

"She said, 'I won’t say a word, but I will, I will speak, Satan! She says she will kill me. Oh! she says she has a grudge against me and will scratch me down. Stay away, Satan, for the love of God, stay away!' Then she fell into fits again and shouted, 'Will you? I’ll stop you, in the name of God.'"

The magistrate inquired earnestly:—

The judge asked seriously:—

"'Tell us how far have you yielded?'

"'Tell us how far you've given in?'"

"A fit interrupts her again.

A seizure interrupts her again.

"'What did they say you should do, and you should be well?'

"'What did they tell you to do to feel better?'"

"Then her lips were bit, so that she could not speak: so she was sent away."

"Then her lips were bitten, making it impossible for her to speak: so she was sent away."

Mr. Parris, the reporter of the case, adds:—

Mr. Parris, the reporter on the case, adds:—

"Note that not one of the sufferers was afflicted during her examination, after once she began to confess, though they were tormented before."

"Note that none of the sufferers were affected during her examination, once she started to confess, even though they had been tormented before."

She was subsequently examined in the prison several times, falling occasionally into fits, and exhibiting the appearance of a long-continued conflict with Satan, who was supposed to be resisting her inclination to confess, and holding her with violence[ii.120] to the contract she had made with him. The magistrates and ministers beheld with amazement and awe what they believed to be precisely a similar scene to that described by the evangelists when the Devil strove against the power of the Saviour and his disciples, and would not quit his hold upon the young man, but "threw him down, and tare him." At length, as in that case, Satan was overcome. After a protracted, most violent, and terrible contest, Mary Warren got released from his clutches, and made a full and circumstantial confession.

She was examined in prison several times, occasionally having fits and showing signs of a long struggle with Satan, who was thought to be resisting her desire to confess and holding her forcefully to the deal she had made with him. The magistrates and ministers watched in amazement and fear, believing they were witnessing a scene similar to what the evangelists described when the Devil fought against the power of the Savior and his disciples, refusing to let go of the young man, but "threw him down and tore him." Finally, just like in that case, Satan was defeated. After a long, violent, and terrifying struggle, Mary Warren broke free from his grasp and made a complete and detailed confession.[ii.120]

Whoever studies carefully the account of Mary Warren's successive examinations can hardly question, I think, that she acted a part, and acted it with wonderful cunning, skill, and effect.

Whoever closely examines the details of Mary Warren's repeated interviews can hardly doubt, I believe, that she played a role, and did so with remarkable cleverness, skill, and impact.

This examination, beginning on Tuesday, the 19th of April, continued after she was committed to prison in Salem, at the jail there, for several days, and was renewed at intervals until the middle of May. After she had thoroughly broken away from Satan, she revealed all that she had seen and heard while associating with him and his confederate subjects: her testimony was implicitly received, and it dealt death and destruction in all directions. It is a circumstance strongly confirming this view, that Mary Warren was soon released from confinement. It was the general practice to keep those, who confessed, in prison, to retain in that way power over them, and prevent their recanting their confessions. She is found, by the papers on file, to have acted afterwards, as a capital witness,[ii.121] against ten persons, all of whom were convicted, and seven executed. Besides these, she testified, with the appearance of animosity and vindictiveness, against her master John Procter, and her mistress his wife; thus contributing to secure the conviction of both, and the death of the former. In how many more cases she figured in the same character and to the same effect is unknown, as the papers in reference to only a very small proportion of them have come down to us. The interpretation I give to the course of Mary Warren exhibits her guilt, and that of those participating in the stratagem, as of the deepest and blackest dye. But it seems to be the only one which a scrutiny of the details of her examinations, and of the facts of the case, allows us to receive. The effect was most decisive. The course of the accusing children in crying out against one of their own number satisfied the public, and convinced still more the magistrates, that they were truthful, honest, and upright. They had before given evidence that they paid no regard to family influence or eminent reputation. They had now proved that they had no partiality and no favoritism, but were equally ready to bring to light and to justice any of their own circle who might fall into the snare of the Evil One, and become confederate with him. No dramatic artist, no cunning impostor, ever contrived a more ingenious plot; and no actors ever carried one out better than Mary Warren and the afflicted children.

This investigation, starting on Tuesday, April 19th, continued after she was sent to jail in Salem for several days and was revisited at intervals until mid-May. Once she completely cut ties with Satan, she disclosed everything she saw and heard while being with him and his accomplices: her testimony was accepted without question, leading to widespread death and destruction. A significant point supporting this viewpoint is that Mary Warren was soon released from jail. It was common to keep those who confessed in prison to maintain control over them and prevent them from taking back their confessions. Records show that she later acted as a key witness, [ii.121] testifying against ten people, all of whom were convicted, and seven executed. In addition to these cases, she testified, showing animosity and vindictiveness, against her master John Proctor and his wife, contributing to their convictions and the execution of the former. It’s unclear how many more cases she was involved in the same way, as only a small portion of the related documents have survived. My interpretation of Mary Warren's actions indicates her guilt, as well as that of those who were part of the scheme, is profound and disturbing. But this seems to be the only conclusion supported by a careful examination of her testimonies and the facts at hand. The impact was undeniable. The behavior of the accusing children, calling out against one of their own, reassured the public and further convinced the magistrates that they were truthful, honest, and righteous. They had previously shown they disregarded family ties or prominent status. They now demonstrated that they showed no favoritism and were equally willing to expose and seek justice against anyone in their circle who might fall victim to the Devil and join him. No playwright, no clever fraud, ever devised a more intricate scheme; and no performers executed one better than Mary Warren and the afflicted children.

Giles Corey incurred hostility, perhaps, because his[ii.122] deposition relating to his wife did not come up to the mark required. It is also highly probable, that, though incensed at her conduct at the time, reflection had brought him to his senses; and that the circumstances of her examination and commitment to prison produced a re-action in his mind. If so, he would have been apt to express himself very freely. His examination took place April 19th, in the meeting-house at the Village. The girls acted their usual part, charging him, one by one, with having afflicted them, and proving it on the spot by tortures and sufferings. After they had severally got through, they all joined at once in their demonstrations. The report made by Parris says, "All the afflicted were seized now with fits, and troubled with pinches. Then the Court ordered his hands to be tied." The magistrates lost all control of themselves, and flew into a passion, exclaiming, "What! is it not enough to act witchcraft at other times, but must you do it now, in face of authority?" He seems to have been profoundly affected by the marvellousness of the accusations, and the exhibition of what to him was inexplicable in the sufferings of the girls; and all he could say was, "I am a poor creature, and cannot help it."—"Upon the motion of his head again, they had their heads and necks afflicted." The magistrates, not having recovered their composure, continued to pour their wrath upon him, "Why do you tell such wicked lies against witnesses?"—"One of his hands was let go, and several were afflicted. He held his head on one side,[ii.123] and then the heads of several of the afflicted were held on one side. He drew in his cheeks, and the cheeks of some of the afflicted were sucked in." Goody Bibber was on hand, and played her accompaniment. She also uttered malignant charges against him, and "was suddenly seized with a violent fit." One of Bibber's statements was that he had called her husband "damned devilish rogue." Through all this outrage, Corey was firm in asserting his innocence. His language and manner were serious, and solemnized by a sense of the helplessness of his situation and the wicked falsehoods heaped upon him. His disagreement with his wife about the witchcraft proceedings being well known, the accusers endeavored to make it out that they had often quarrelled. But he insisted that the only difference which had before existed between them was a conflict of opinion on one point. In his family devotions, he used this expression, "living to God and dying to sin." She "found fault" with the language, and criticised it. He thought it was all right! The characteristic spirit of the old man was roused most strikingly by one of the charges. Bibber and others testified that Corey had said he had seen the Devil in the shape of a black hog and was very much frightened. He could not stand under the imputation of cowardice, and lost sight of every other element in the accusation but that. The magistrate asked, "What did you see in the cow-house? Why do you deny it?"—"I saw nothing but my cattle."—"(Divers witnessed that he told[ii.124] them he was frighted.)"—"Well, what do you say to these witnesses? What was it frighted you?"—"I do not know that ever I spoke the word in my life."

Giles Corey faced hostility, possibly because his[ii.122] testimony about his wife didn’t meet expectations. It’s also very likely that, although he was angry about her behavior at the time, reflection had made him reconsider; the circumstances surrounding her questioning and imprisonment may have affected his thoughts. If that were the case, he would likely have expressed himself quite openly. His examination occurred on April 19th, in the meeting house at the Village. The girls played their usual role, accusing him one by one of causing them harm, demonstrating it right there with their pain and suffering. After each finished, they all combined their reactions at once. The report from Parris states, "All the afflicted were now seized with fits and troubled with pinches. Then the Court ordered his hands to be tied." The magistrates lost their composure and became furious, shouting, "What! Is it not enough to practice witchcraft at other times? Must you do it now, in front of authority?" He seemed deeply affected by the absurdity of the accusations and the display of what was to him an unexplainable suffering of the girls; all he could say was, "I am a poor creature, and cannot help it." — "At the motion of his head again, they had their heads and necks tormented." The magistrates, still unable to regain their calm, continued their fury against him, "Why do you tell such wicked lies about the witnesses?" — "One of his hands was released, and several were afflicted. He held his head to one side,[ii.123] and then the heads of some of the afflicted tilted to one side as well. He sucked in his cheeks, and the cheeks of some of the afflicted were sucked in too." Goody Bibber was there, adding to the chaos. She also made malicious accusations against him and "was suddenly seized with a violent fit." One of Bibber's claims was that he had called her husband a "damned devilish rogue." Amidst all this outrage, Corey remained resolute in asserting his innocence. His words and demeanor were serious, weighted by a sense of his helpless situation and the wicked lies cast upon him. Given that his disagreement with his wife over the witchcraft trials was well-known, the accusers tried to suggest that they had often fought. But he insisted that their only prior disagreement had been over one opinion. In his family prayers, he used the phrase, "living to God and dying to sin." She "found fault" with his wording, criticizing it. He felt it was perfectly fine! The typical spirit of the old man was notably stirred by one accusation. Bibber and others claimed that Corey had said he saw the Devil in the form of a black pig and was very frightened. He couldn’t bear the suggestion of cowardice and focused solely on that aspect of the accusation. The magistrate asked, "What did you see in the cow-house? Why do you deny it?" — "I saw nothing but my cattle." — "(Several witnessed that he told[ii.124] them he was scared.)" — "Well, what do you say to these witnesses? What frightened you?" — "I do not know that I ever spoke the word in my life."

But while his character retained its manliness, and his soul was truly insensible to fear, he was very much oppressed and distressed by his situation. The share he had, with two of his sons-in-law, in bringing his wife into her awful condition, and in driving on the public infatuation at the beginning, was more than he could endure to think of, and he was charged with having meditated suicide. Perhaps he had already formed the purpose afterwards carried into effect, and may have dropped expressions, under that thought, which to others might appear to indicate a design of self-destruction. He was accused of having said that "he would make away with himself, and charge his death upon his son." His sons-in-law, Crosby and Parker, were acting with the crowd that were pursuing him to his death. Little did it enter the imagination of any one then, that there was a method by which he could "make away with himself," leaving the entire act of the destruction of his life upon his persecutors, and the sin to be apportioned between him and them by the All-wise and All-just.

But while he remained strong and fearless, he was deeply troubled and stressed by his situation. The role he played, along with two of his sons-in-law, in bringing his wife to that terrible state and fueling the public frenzy at the start was more than he could bear to think about, and he was accused of contemplating suicide. Maybe he had already thought about it later on and had made comments that seemed to suggest he intended to take his own life. He was said to have mentioned that "he would end his life and blame his son." His sons-in-law, Crosby and Parker, were part of the mob that was hunting him down to his death. No one at the time imagined that there was a way he could "end his life" while leaving the entire act of his death to his pursuers, and the blame could be shared between him and them by the All-wise and All-just.

Abigail Hobbs had been a reckless vagrant creature, wandering through the woods at night like a half-deranged person; but she had wit enough to see that there was safety in confession. She pretended to have committed, by witchcraft, crimes enough to have[ii.125] hanged her a dozen times. If she had stood to her confession, we should have heard of her no more.

Abigail Hobbs had been a wild and reckless drifter, roaming the woods at night like someone half-crazy; but she was smart enough to realize that admitting her guilt would keep her safe. She claimed to have committed enough crimes through witchcraft to get herself hanged a dozen times. If she had stuck to her confession, we would have never heard from her again.

Bridget Bishop's examination filled the intervals of time while Mary Warren was being carried out of the meeting-house to recover from her fits. Both Parris and Ezekiel Cheever took minutes of it, from which the substance is gathered as follows:—

Bridget Bishop's examination took place during the time Mary Warren was being taken out of the meeting-house to recover from her fits. Both Parris and Ezekiel Cheever documented it, and the main points are summarized as follows:—

On her coming in, the afflicted persons, at the same moment, severally fell into fits, and were dreadfully tormented. Hathorne addressed her, calling upon her to give an account of the witchcrafts she was "conversant in." She replied, "I take all this people to witness that I am clear." He then asked the children, "Hath this woman hurt you?" They all cried out that she had. The magistrate continued, "You are here accused by four or five: what do you say to it?"—"I never saw these persons before, nor I never[A] was in this place before. I never did hurt them in my life."

On her arrival, the afflicted people suddenly fell into fits and were in terrible pain. Hathorne spoke to her, asking her to explain the witchcraft she was "involved in." She responded, "I call all these people to witness that I am innocent." He then asked the children, "Has this woman harmed you?" They all shouted that she had. The magistrate continued, "You are accused by four or five people: what do you have to say about it?" — "I have never seen these people before, nor have I ever been in this place before. I have never harmed them in my life."

At a meeting of the afflicted children and others, some one declared that Bridget Bishop was present "in her shape" or apparition, and, pointing to a particular spot, said, "There, there she is!" Young Jonathan Walcot, exasperated by his sister's sufferings, struck at the spot with his sword; whereupon Mary cried out, "You have hit her, you have torn her coat, and I heard it tear." This story had been brought to Hathorne's ears; and abruptly, as if to take her off her guard,[ii.126] he said, "Is not your coat cut?" She answered, "No." They then examined the coat, and found what they regarded as having been "cut or torn two ways." It was probably the fashion in which the garment was made; for she was in the habit of dressing more artistically than the women of the Village. At any rate, it did not appear like a direct cut of a sword; but Jonathan got over the difficulty by saying that "the sword that he struck at Goody Bishop was not naked, but was within the scabbard." This explained the whole matter, so that Cheever says, in his report, that "the rent may very probably be the very same that Mary Walcot did tell that she had in her coat, by Jonathan's striking at her appearance"! Parris says, with more caution, more indeed than was usual with him, "Upon some search in the Court, a rent, that seems to answer what was alleged, was found."

At a meeting with the afflicted children and others, someone claimed that Bridget Bishop was present "in her shape" or ghost, and pointed to a specific spot, saying, "There, there she is!" Young Jonathan Walcot, frustrated by his sister's pain, struck at the spot with his sword. Mary then yelled, "You hit her, you tore her coat, and I heard it rip!" This story made its way to Hathorne, who suddenly asked her, as if trying to catch her off guard, "Isn't your coat cut?" She replied, "No." They then checked the coat and found what they thought looked like it had been "cut or torn in two ways." It was likely the style in which the garment was made, as she usually dressed more elaborately than the other women in the village. Regardless, it didn’t look like a clean sword cut; however, Jonathan solved the issue by saying that "the sword he struck at Goody Bishop wasn’t unsheathed but was still in the scabbard." This explanation cleared everything up, leading Cheever to state in his report that "the tear may very well be the same one that Mary Walcot said she had in her coat from Jonathan's strike at her apparition!" Parris remarked, more cautiously than usual, "After some investigation in court, a tear was found that seems to match what was claimed."

Hathorne, having heard the scandals they had circulated against her, proceeded: "They say you bewitched your first husband to death."—"If it please Your Worship, I know nothing of it."—"What do you say of these murders you are charged with?"—"I hope I am not guilty of murder." As she said this, she turned up her eyes, probably to give solemnity to her declaration. At the opening of the examination, she looked round upon the people, and called them to witness her innocence. She had found out by this time, that no justice could be expected from them; and feeling, with Rebecca Nurse on a recent similar occasion, "I have got nobody to look to but[ii.127] God," she turned her eyes heavenward. Instantly, the eyeballs of all the girls were rolled up in their sockets, and fixed. The effect was awful, and still more increased as they went, after a moment or two, into dreadful torments. Hathorne could no longer contain himself, but broke out, "Do you not see how they are tormented? You are acting witchcraft before us! What do you say to this? Why have you not a heart to confess the truth?" She calmly replied, "I am innocent. I know nothing of it. I am no witch. I know not what a witch is." The "afflicted children" charged her with having tried to persuade them to sign the Devil's book. As she had never before seen one of them, she was indignant at this barefaced falsehood, and, as Cheever says, "shook her head" in her resentment; which, as he further says, put them all into great torments. Parris represents that in every motion of her head they were tortured. Marshal Herrick, as usual, put in his oar, and volunteered charges against her. She bore herself well through the shocking scene, and did not shrink, at its close, from expressing her unbelief of the whole thing: "I do not know whether there be any witches or no." When she was removed from the place of examination, the accusers all had fits, and broke forth in outcries of agony. After being taken out, one of the constables in charge of her asked her if she was not troubled to see the afflicted persons so tormented; and she replied, "No." In answer to further questions, she indicated that she could not[ii.128] tell what to think of them, and did not concern herself about them at all.

Hathorne, having heard the rumors they spread about her, asked, "They say you cursed your first husband to death." — "With all due respect, I know nothing about that." — "What do you say about these murders you're accused of?" — "I hope I am not guilty of murder." As she said this, she turned her eyes upward, probably to add seriousness to her statement. At the start of the questioning, she looked around at the people, calling them to witness her innocence. By this time, she realized that she couldn’t expect any fairness from them; feeling, like Rebecca Nurse did in a similar situation recently, "I have nobody to rely on but God," she turned her gaze to heaven. Instantly, the girls rolled their eyes back and froze. The effect was terrifying, especially as they soon began to writhe in agony. Hathorne couldn’t help but shout, "Do you not see how they are suffering? You are performing witchcraft in front of us! What do you say to this? Why don’t you have the courage to confess the truth?" She calmly replied, "I am innocent. I know nothing about it. I am not a witch. I don’t know what a witch is." The "afflicted children" accused her of trying to convince them to sign the Devil's book. Since she had never seen one of them before, she was outraged by this blatant lie, and, as Cheever mentions, "shook her head" in anger; which, as he adds, caused them all great distress. Parris claimed that with every movement of her head, they were tortured. Marshal Herrick, as usual, joined in and made accusations against her. She conducted herself well throughout the shocking scene, and at the end, she did not hesitate to express her disbelief in the entire situation: "I do not know whether there are witches or not." When she was taken away from the examination area, the accusers all had fits and cried out in pain. After being removed, one of the constables in charge of her asked if she was troubled to see the afflicted individuals in such agony; she replied, "No." When asked more questions, she indicated that she could not tell what to think of them and did not concern herself with them at all.

Giles Corey, Bridget Bishop, Abigail Hobbs, together with Mary Warren, were duly committed to prison.

Giles Corey, Bridget Bishop, Abigail Hobbs, and Mary Warren were officially sent to prison.

Two days after, April 21, warrants were issued "against William Hobbs, husbandman, and Deliverance his wife; Nehemiah Abbot, Jr., weaver; Mary Easty, the wife of Isaac Easty; and Sarah Wilds, the wife of John Wilds,—all of the town of Topsfield, or Ipswich; and Edward Bishop, husbandman, and Sarah his wife, of Salem Village; and Mary Black, a negro of Lieutenant Nathaniel Putnam's, of Salem Village also; and Mary English, the wife of Philip English, merchant in Salem." All of them were to be delivered to the magistrates for examination at the house of Lieutenant Nathaniel Ingersoll, at about ten o'clock the next morning, in Salem Village; and were brought in accordingly.

Two days later, on April 21, warrants were issued for "William Hobbs, a farmer, and his wife Deliverance; Nehemiah Abbot Jr., a weaver; Mary Easty, the wife of Isaac Easty; and Sarah Wilds, the wife of John Wilds—all from the towns of Topsfield or Ipswich; Edward Bishop, a farmer, and his wife Sarah, from Salem Village; Mary Black, a servant of Lieutenant Nathaniel Putnam’s, also from Salem Village; and Mary English, the wife of Philip English, a merchant in Salem." They were all to be brought to the magistrates for questioning at Lieutenant Nathaniel Ingersoll's house at around ten o'clock the next morning in Salem Village, and they were brought in as scheduled.

What the papers on file enable us to glean of these nine persons is substantially as follows: William Hobbs was about fifty years of age, and one of the earliest settlers of the Village, although his residence was on the territory afterwards included in Topsfield. His daughter Abigail, of whom I have just spoken, appears from all the accounts to have acted at this stage of the transaction a most wicked part, ready to do all the mischief in her power, and allowing herself to be used to any extent to fasten the imputation of witchcraft upon others. Several persons testified that, long before, she had boasted that[ii.129] she was not afraid of any thing, "for she had sold herself body and soul to the Old Boy;" one witness testified, that, "some time last winter, I was discoursing with Abigail Hobbs about her wicked carriages and disobedience to her father and mother, and she told me she did not care what anybody said to her, for she had seen the Devil, and had made a covenant or bargain with him;" another, Margaret Knight, testified, that, about a year before, "Abigail Hobbs and her mother were at my father's house, and Abigail Hobbs said to me, 'Margaret, are you baptized?' And I said, 'Yes.' Then said she, 'My mother is not baptized, but I will baptize her;' and immediately took water, and sprinkled in her mother's face, and said she did baptize her 'in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.'"

What we can gather from the documents on file about these nine individuals is mostly as follows: William Hobbs was around fifty years old and one of the earliest settlers of the Village, although he lived in what later became Topsfield. His daughter Abigail, whom I just mentioned, seems from all accounts to have played a very wicked role at this point in the events, eager to cause as much trouble as she could and allowing herself to be used in any way to accuse others of witchcraft. Several people testified that, long before, she had boasted that[ii.129] she was not afraid of anything, "because she had sold herself body and soul to the Devil;" one witness stated that, "some time last winter, I was talking with Abigail Hobbs about her bad behavior and disobedience to her parents, and she told me she didn’t care what anyone said to her, because she had seen the Devil and had made a deal with him;" another witness, Margaret Knight, testified that about a year prior, "Abigail Hobbs and her mother were at my father's house, and Abigail Hobbs asked me, 'Margaret, are you baptized?' I replied, 'Yes.' Then she said, 'My mother is not baptized, but I will baptize her;' and she immediately took water, sprinkled it on her mother's face, and declared that she had baptized her 'in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.'"

She was arrested, and brought to the Village, on the 19th of April. The next day, she began her operations by declaring that "Judah White, a Jersey maid" that lived with Joseph Ingersoll at Casco, "but now lives at Boston," appeared to her "in apparition" the day before, and advised her to "fly, and not to go to be examined," but, if she did go, "not to confess any thing:" she described the dress of this "apparition,"—she "came to her in fine clothes, in a sad-colored silk mantle, with a top-knot and a hood."—"She confesseth further, that the Devil in the shape of a man came to her," and charged her to afflict the girls; bringing images made of wood in their likeness with thorns for her to prick into the images, which she[ii.130] did: whereupon the girls cried out that they were hurt by her. She further confessed, that, "she was at the great meeting in Mr. Parris's pasture, when they administered the sacrament, and did eat of the red bread and drink of the red wine, at the same time." This confession established her credibility at once; and, the next day, the warrants were issued for the nine persons above mentioned, against whom they had secured in her an effective witness. She had resided for some time at Casco Bay; and we shall soon see how matters began in a few days to work in that direction. There are two indictments against this Abigail Hobbs: one charging her with having made a covenant with "the Evil Spirit, the Devil," at Casco Bay, in 1688; the other with having exercised the arts of witchcraft upon the afflicted girls, at Salem Village, in 1692.

She was arrested and brought to the Village on April 19th. The next day, she started her claims by saying that "Judah White, a Jersey maid" who had lived with Joseph Ingersoll in Casco but was now in Boston, appeared to her "in apparition" the previous day and advised her to "run away, and not go to be questioned," but if she did go, "not to confess anything." She described the "apparition's" clothing—she "appeared to her in fancy clothes, in a dark-colored silk mantle, with a top-knot and a hood." She also admitted that "the Devil, in the form of a man, came to her" and told her to afflict the girls, bringing wooden images of them with thorns for her to prick into the images, which she[ii.130] did. As a result, the girls cried out that they were hurt by her. She further confessed that "she was at the big meeting in Mr. Parris's pasture when they took communion and ate the red bread and drank the red wine at the same time." This confession established her credibility right away, and the following day, warrants were issued for the nine individuals mentioned above, for whom she had become a reliable witness. She had lived at Casco Bay for a while, and we will soon see how things began to unfold in that direction. There are two charges against Abigail Hobbs: one accusing her of having made a pact with "the Evil Spirit, the Devil," at Casco Bay in 1688; the other claiming she practiced witchcraft on the afflicted girls at Salem Village in 1692.

When her unhappy father was brought to examination, he found that his daughter was playing into the hands of the accusers; and that his wife, overwhelmed by the horrors of the situation, although for a time protesting her innocence and lamenting that she had been the mother of such a daughter, had broken down and confessed, saying whatever might be put in her mouth by the magistrates, the girls, or the crowd. Under these circumstances, he was brought forward for examination. Parris took minutes of it. It is to be regretted, that the paper is much dilapidated, and portions of the lines wholly lost. What is left shows that the mind of William Hobbs rose superior[ii.131] to the terrors and powers arrayed against it. The magistrate commenced proceedings by inquiring of the girls, pointing to the prisoner, "Hath this man hurt you?" Several of them answered "Yes." Goody Bibber, who seems generally to have been a very zealous volunteer backer of the girls, on this occasion, for a wonder, answered "No." The magistrate, addressing the prisoner, "What say you? Are you guilty or not?"—Answer: "I can speak in the presence of God safely, as I must look to give account another day, that I am as clear as a new-born babe."—"Clear of what?"—"Of witchcraft."—"Have you never hurt these?"—"No." Abigail Williams cried out that he "was going to Mercy Lewis!" Whereupon Mercy was seized with a fit. Then Abigail cried out again, "He is coming to Mary Walcot!" and Mary went into her fit. The magistrate, in consternation, appealed to him: "How can you be clear," when your appearance is thus seen producing such effects before our eyes? Then the children went into fits all together, and "hallooed" at the top of their voices, and "shouted greatly." The magistrate then brought up the confession of his wife against him, and expostulated with him for not confessing; the afflicted, in the mean while, bringing the whole machinery of their convulsions, shrieks, and uproar to bear against him: but he calmly, and in brief terms, denied it.

When her distressed father was brought in for questioning, he realized that his daughter was playing right into the hands of their accusers. His wife, overwhelmed by the horror of the situation, had initially protested her innocence and lamented having such a daughter, but she eventually broke down and confessed, saying whatever the magistrates, the girls, or the crowd put in her head. Given these circumstances, he was brought in for questioning. Parris took notes on it. Unfortunately, the paper is quite worn, and parts of it are completely lost. What remains shows that William Hobbs's spirit rose above the fears and powers lined up against him. The magistrate began the proceedings by asking the girls, pointing to the prisoner, "Did this man hurt you?" Several of them answered "Yes." Goody Bibber, who usually seemed to be an enthusiastic supporter of the girls, surprisingly responded "No" this time. The magistrate turned to the prisoner, "What do you say? Are you guilty or not?"—He replied, "I can speak safely in the presence of God, as I must answer for it another day, that I am as innocent as a newborn baby."—"Innocent of what?"—"Of witchcraft."—"Have you ever harmed these girls?"—"No." Abigail Williams yelled that he "was going to Mercy Lewis!" At that, Mercy seized up in a fit. Then Abigail shouted again, "He is coming to Mary Walcot!" and Mary went into a fit as well. The magistrate, in confusion, asked him: "How can you claim to be innocent when your presence is causing such reactions before our eyes?" Then the children all began to have fits at once, shouting at the top of their lungs. The magistrate brought up his wife's confession against him and chastised him for not confessing, while the afflicted girls brought the full force of their convulsions, screams, and chaos against him: but he calmly and briefly denied all charges.

The circle of accusing girls seems to have been a receptacle, into which all the scandal, gossip, and[ii.132] defamation of the surrounding country was emptied. Some one had told them that William Hobbs was not a regular attendant at meeting. They passed it on to the magistrate, and he put this question to the accused: "When were you at any public religious meeting?" He replied, "Not a pretty while."—"Why so?"—"Because I was not well: I had a distemper that none knows." The magistrate said, "Can you act witchcraft here, and, by casting your eyes, turn folks into fits?"—"You may judge your pleasure. My soul is clear."—"Do you not see you hurt these by your look?"—"No: I do not know it." After another display of awful sufferings, caused, as they protested, by the mere look of Hobbs, the magistrate, with triumphant confidence, again put it home to him, "Can you now deny it?" He answered, "I can deny it to my dying day." The magistrate inquired of him for what reason he withdrew from the room whenever the Scriptures were read in his family. He plumply denied it. Nathaniel Ingersoll and Thomas Haynes testified that his daughter had told them so. The confessions of his wife and daughter were over and over again brought up against him, but to no effect. "Who do you worship?" said the magistrate. "I hope I worship God only."—"Where?"—"In my heart." The examination failed to confound or embarrass him in the least. He could not be drawn into the expression of any of the feelings which the conduct of his graceless and depraved daughter or his weak and wretched wife must have[ii.133] excited. He quietly protested that he knew nothing about witchcraft; and, towards the close, with solemn earnestness of utterance, declared that his innocence was known to the "great God in heaven."

The group of accusing girls seemed to be a dumping ground for all the scandal, gossip, and[ii.132] defamation from the surrounding area. Someone had told them that William Hobbs didn't regularly attend meetings. They passed this on to the magistrate, who asked the accused: "When was the last time you were at a public religious meeting?" He replied, "Not in a long time."—"Why is that?"—"Because I wasn't well: I had an illness that no one understands." The magistrate said, "Can you do witchcraft here, and by looking at people, give them fits?"—"You can judge for yourself. My conscience is clear."—"Don't you see you're hurting these people with your gaze?"—"No: I don't know that." After another display of terrible suffering, supposedly caused just by Hobbs' look, the magistrate confidently pressed him again, "Can you deny it now?" He answered, "I can deny it until my dying day." The magistrate asked why he left the room whenever the Scriptures were read in his family. He flatly denied it. Nathaniel Ingersoll and Thomas Haynes testified that his daughter had told them he did. The confessions of his wife and daughter were repeatedly used against him, but to no effect. "Who do you worship?" the magistrate asked. "I hope I worship only God."—"Where?"—"In my heart." The questioning failed to confuse or embarrass him at all. He couldn't be pushed into expressing any of the emotions that his sinful and corrupt daughter or his weak and miserable wife must have[ii.133] stirred up. He calmly insisted that he knew nothing about witchcraft; and toward the end, with serious conviction, he declared that his innocence was known to the "great God in heaven."

He was committed for trial. All that the documents in existence inform us further, in relation to William Hobbs, is that he remained in prison until the 14th of the next December, when two of his neighbors, John Nichols and Joseph Towne, in some way succeeded in getting him bailed out; they giving bonds in the sum of two hundred pounds for his appearance at the sessions of the Court the next month. But it was not, even then, thought wholly safe to have him come in; and the fine was incurred. He appeared at the term in May, the fine was remitted, and he discharged by proclamation. On the 26th of March, 1714, he gave evidence in a case of commonage rights. He was then seventy-two years of age. Of his wife and daughter, I shall again have occasion to speak.

He was held for trial. The available documents tell us that William Hobbs stayed in jail until December 14th of the next year, when two of his neighbors, John Nichols and Joseph Towne, managed to get him released on bail; they provided bonds of two hundred pounds for him to show up at the court sessions the following month. However, it was still considered risky to have him attend, and a fine was imposed. He showed up in May, the fine was waived, and he was released by proclamation. On March 26, 1714, he gave testimony in a case about common land rights. At that time, he was seventy-two years old. I will have more to say about his wife and daughter later.

For all that is known of the case of Nehemiah Abbot, we are indebted to Hutchinson, who had Parris's minutes of the examination before him. Hutchinson says, that, of "near an hundred" whose examinations he had seen, he was the only one who, having been brought before the magistrates, was finally dismissed by them. Perhaps even this case was not an exception: for a document on file shows that a person named Abbot of the same locality was subsequently arrested and imprisoned; but unfortunately[ii.134] the Christian name has been obliterated, or from some cause is wanting. It seems, from Hutchinson's minutes, that he protested his innocence in manly and firm declarations. Mary Walcot testified that she had seen his shape. Ann Putnam cried out that she saw him "upon the beam." The magistrates told him that his guilt was certainly proved, and that, if he would find mercy of God, he must confess. "I speak before God," he answered, "that I am clear from this accusation."—"What, in all respects?"—"Yes, in all respects." The girls were struck with dumbness; and Ann Putnam, re-affirming that he was the man that hurt her, "was taken with a fit." Mary Walcot began to waver in her confidence, and Mercy Lewis said, "It is not the man." This unprecedented variance in the testimony of the girls brought matters to a stand; and he was sent out for a time, while others were examined:—

For everything we know about the Nehemiah Abbot case, we owe it to Hutchinson, who had Parris's notes from the examination. Hutchinson mentions that out of "nearly a hundred" examinations he reviewed, Abbot was the only one who, after being brought before the magistrates, was ultimately dismissed by them. However, it's possible that this case wasn’t an anomaly; a record indicates that a person named Abbot from the same area was later arrested and imprisoned. Unfortunately, the first name has been erased or is otherwise missing. According to Hutchinson's notes, Abbot insisted on his innocence with strong and confident statements. Mary Walcot claimed she saw his figure. Ann Putnam shouted that she saw him "on the beam." The magistrates informed him that his guilt was clearly established and that if he wanted to find mercy from God, he needed to confess. "I speak before God," he replied, "that I am innocent of this accusation."—"What, in every way?"—"Yes, in every way." The girls were left speechless, and Ann Putnam, reiterating that he was the man who harmed her, "started having a fit." Mary Walcot began to question her certainty, and Mercy Lewis said, "It’s not the man." This unusual inconsistency in the girls' testimonies caused a pause in the proceedings; he was taken out for a time while others were examined:—

"When he was brought in again, by reason of much people, and many in the windows, so that the accusers could not have a clear view of him, he was ordered to be abroad, and the accusers to go forth to him, and view him in the light, which they did in the presence of the magistrates and many others, discoursed quietly with him, one and all acquitting him; but yet said he was like that man, but he had not the wen they saw in his apparition. Note, he was a hilly-faced man, and stood shaded by reason of his own hair; so that for a time he seemed to some bystanders and observers to be considerably like the person the afflicted did describe."

"When he was brought in again, due to the large crowd and many people at the windows, the accusers couldn't see him clearly. He was instructed to come outside, and the accusers were told to go out to him and see him in the light, which they did, in the presence of the magistrates and many others. They spoke to him quietly, and everyone cleared him of any wrongdoing; however, they mentioned he looked like that man but didn't have the growth they noticed in his apparition. It's worth noting he had a hilly face and was somewhat obscured by his own hair, so for a while, some bystanders thought he resembled the person the afflicted described."

Such is Parris's statement, as quoted by Hutchinson. What was the real cause or motive of this discrepancy among the witnesses does not appear. The facts, that at first they went into fits in beholding him, were all struck dumb for a while, and Ann Putnam saw him on the beam, were likely to have an unfavorable effect upon the minds of the people, and threatened to explode the delusion. But Ann, with a quickness of wit that never failed to meet any emergency, when Mercy Lewis said it was not the man, cried out in a fit, "Did you put a mist before my eyes?" She conveyed the idea that the power of Satan blinded her, and caused her to mistake the man. This answered the purpose; and, although Abbot got clear, for the time at least, all were more than ever convinced that the Evil One, in misleading Ann, had shown his hand on the occasion.

Such is Parris's statement, as quoted by Hutchinson. The real reason behind the difference in the witnesses’ accounts isn’t clear. The facts—like how they initially went into fits at the sight of him, were left speechless for a while, and how Ann Putnam claimed to see him on the beam—likely negatively influenced public opinion and threatened to shatter the illusion. But Ann, with her quick thinking that always seemed to handle any situation, when Mercy Lewis said it wasn’t the man, shouted in a fit, "Did you put a mist before my eyes?" She suggested that the power of Satan had blinded her and made her mistake the man. This served its purpose; and although Abbot got off, at least for the moment, everyone was even more convinced that the Evil One, by leading Ann astray, had revealed himself in this instance.

The examination of Sarah Wildes had no peculiar features. The afflicted children and Goody Bibber saw her apparition sitting on the beam while she was bodily present at the bar, and went through their usual fits and evolutions. She maintained her innocence with dignity and firmness; and the magistrate, prejudging the case against her, rebuked her obstinacy in not confessing, in his accustomed manner.

The examination of Sarah Wildes was nothing out of the ordinary. The afflicted children and Goody Bibber saw her ghost sitting on the beam while she was physically present at the bar, and they went through their usual fits and convulsions. She defended her innocence with dignity and resolve, and the magistrate, already biased against her, scolded her for her stubbornness in not confessing, as was his usual practice.

No account has come down of the examinations of Edward Bishop, or Sarah his wife. He was the third of that name, probably the son of the "Sawyer." His wife Sarah was a daughter of William Wildes of Ipswich, and, it would seem, a sister of John[ii.136] Wildes, the examination of whose wife has just been mentioned. Some of the evidence indicates that she was a niece of Rebecca Nurse. They all belonged to that class of persons who, under the general appellation of "the Topsfield men," had been in such frequent collision with the people of the Village. Edward Bishop was forty-four years of age, and his wife forty-one. They had a family, at the time of their imprisonment, of twelve children. Sarah Bishop had been dismissed from the church at the Village, and recommended to that at Topsfield, May 25, 1690. They had land in Topsfield, as well as in the Village, and were more intimately connected in social relations with the former than the latter place. They effected their escape from prison, and survived the storm. Mary, the wife of Philip English, was committed to prison. We have no record of her examination.

No records exist of the examinations of Edward Bishop and his wife, Sarah. He was the third person with that name, likely the son of the "Sawyer." His wife Sarah was the daughter of William Wildes from Ipswich and appears to be a sister of John[ii.136] Wildes, whose wife's examination has just been mentioned. Some evidence suggests that she was a niece of Rebecca Nurse. They were part of a group known as "the Topsfield men," who often clashed with the people of the Village. Edward Bishop was 44 years old, and his wife was 41. At the time of their arrest, they had twelve children. Sarah Bishop had been removed from the church in the Village and recommended to the one in Topsfield on May 25, 1690. They owned land in both Topsfield and the Village and had closer social ties to Topsfield. They managed to escape from prison and survived the turmoil. Mary, the wife of Philip English, was imprisoned, but we have no record of her examination.

Mary Black, the negro woman, belonged to Nathaniel Putnam, but lived in the family of his son Benjamin. Her examination shows that she was an ignorant but an innocent person. She knew nothing about the matter, and had no idea what it all meant. To the questions with which the magistrate pressed her, her answers were, "I do not know," "I cannot tell." The only fact brought out against her besides the actings of the girls was this: "Her master saith a man sat down upon the form with her about a twelvemonth ago." Parris, in his minutes, gives this piece of evidence, but does not enlighten us as to its import. The magistrate asked her, "What did the man[ii.137] say to you?" Her answer was: "He said nothing." This is all they got out of her; and it is all the light we have on the mysterious fact, that a man was once seated, at some time within twelve months, on the same form or bench with poor Mary Black. The magistrate asked the girls, "Doth this negro hurt you?" They said "Yes."—"Why do you hurt them?"—"I did not hurt them." This question was put to her, "Do you prick sticks?" perhaps the meaning was, Do you prick the afflicted children with sticks? The simple creature evidently did not know what they were driving at, and answered, "No: I pin my neckcloth." The examiner asked her, "Will you take out the pin, and pin it again?" She did so, and several of the afflicted cried out that they were pricked. Mary Walcot was pricked in the arm till the blood came, Abigail Williams was pricked in the stomach, and Mercy Lewis was pricked in the foot. It is probable, that, in this case, the girls, as they often appear to have done, provided themselves by concert beforehand with pins ready to be stuck into the assigned parts of their bodies, and managed to get the queer and unusual question put. The whole thing has the appearance of being pre-arranged; and it answered the purpose, filling the crowd with amazement, and excluding all possible doubt from the minds of the magistrates. Mary was committed to prison, where she remained until discharged, in May, 1693, by proclamation from the governor.

Mary Black, a Black woman, was owned by Nathaniel Putnam but lived with his son Benjamin’s family. Her examination revealed that she was uneducated but innocent. She had no knowledge of the situation and didn’t understand what it all meant. When the magistrate pressed her with questions, her responses were, “I don’t know,” and “I can’t tell.” The only evidence against her, apart from the actions of the girls, was: “Her master says a man sat down on the bench with her about a year ago.” Parris, in his notes, mentions this piece of evidence but doesn’t explain its significance. The magistrate asked her, “What did the man[ii.137] say to you?” Her answer was, “He said nothing.” That’s all they got from her, and it’s all we know about the strange fact that a man had once sat on the same bench as poor Mary Black within the last year. The magistrate asked the girls, “Does this Black woman hurt you?” They answered, “Yes.” — “Why do you hurt them?” — “I didn’t hurt them.” Then she was asked, “Do you prick sticks?” possibly meaning, Do you poke the afflicted children with sticks? The simple woman clearly didn’t understand what they were getting at and replied, “No: I pin my neckcloth.” The examiner asked her, “Will you take out the pin and pin it again?” She did so, and several of the afflicted yelled that they were pricked. Mary Walcot was pricked in the arm until it bled, Abigail Williams was pricked in the stomach, and Mercy Lewis was pricked in the foot. It’s likely that the girls, as they often seemed to do, had come prepared with pins to stick into designated parts of their bodies and managed to provoke this strange and unusual question. The whole situation seems pre-arranged; it served its purpose by astonishing the crowd and leaving no room for doubt in the minds of the magistrates. Mary was jailed, where she stayed until she was released, in May 1693, by proclamation from the governor.

Mary Easty, wife of Isaac Easty, and sister of Re[ii.138]becca Nurse and Sarah Cloyse, was about fifty-eight years of age, and the mother of seven children. Her husband owned and lived upon a large and valuable farm, which not many years since was the property and country residence of the late Hon. B.W. Crowninshield, and is now in the possession of Thomas Pierce, Esq. Her examination was accompanied by the usual circumstances. The girls had fits, and were speechless at times: the magistrate expostulated with her for not confessing her guilt, which he regarded as demonstrated, beyond a question, by the sufferings of the afflicted. "Would you have me accuse myself?"—"How far," he continued, "have you complied with Satan?"—"Sir, I never complied, but prayed against him all my days. What would you have me do?"—"Confess, if you be guilty."—"I will say it, if it was my last time, I am clear of this sin." The magistrate, apparently affected by her manner and bearing, inquired of the girls, "Are you certain this is the woman?" They all went into fits; and presently Ann Putnam, coming to herself, said "that was the woman, it was like her, and she told me her name." The accused clasped her hands together, and Mercy Lewis's hands were clenched; she separated her hands, and Mercy's were released; she inclined her head, and the girls screamed out, "Put up her head; for, while her head is bowed, the necks of these are broken." The magistrate again asked, "Is this the woman?" They made signs that they could not speak; but afterwards Ann Putnam and others[ii.139] cried out: "O Goody Easty, Goody Easty, you are the woman, you are the woman!"—"What do you say to this?"—"Why, God will know."—"Nay, God knows now."—"I know he does."—"What did you think of the actions of others before your sisters came out? did you think it was witchcraft?"—"I cannot tell."—"Why do you not think it is witchcraft?"—"It is an evil spirit; but whether it be witchcraft I do not know." She was committed to prison.

Mary Easty, wife of Isaac Easty and sister of Rebecca Nurse and Sarah Cloyse, was about fifty-eight years old and the mother of seven children. Her husband owned a large and valuable farm that, a few years earlier, belonged to the late Hon. B.W. Crowninshield and is now owned by Thomas Pierce, Esq. Her examination followed the usual pattern. The girls were having fits and were often speechless; the magistrate challenged her for not confessing her guilt, which he believed was proven beyond doubt by the suffering of the afflicted. "Would you have me accuse myself?"—"How far," he continued, "have you cooperated with Satan?"—"Sir, I have never cooperated; I've prayed against him my whole life. What do you want me to do?"—"Confess if you are guilty."—"I will say it, even if it’s my last chance, I am innocent of this sin." The magistrate, seemingly moved by her demeanor, asked the girls, "Are you sure this is the woman?" They all fell into fits, and soon Ann Putnam, regaining her composure, said, "That's the woman; it looks like her, and she told me her name." The accused clasped her hands together, and Mercy Lewis's hands were clenched; when the accused separated her hands, Mercy's were released; she tilted her head, and the girls screamed, "Lift her head; because while her head is bowed, the necks of these are broken." The magistrate asked again, "Is this the woman?" They gestured that they could not speak, but later Ann Putnam and others shouted, "Oh Goody Easty, Goody Easty, you are the woman, you are the woman!"—"What do you say to this?"—"Well, God will know."—"No, God knows now."—"I know He does."—"What did you think about the actions of others before your sisters came out? Did you think it was witchcraft?"—"I can't tell."—"Why don’t you think it’s witchcraft?"—"It’s an evil spirit; but I don’t know whether it’s witchcraft." She was sent to prison.

It will be noticed that seven out of the nine examined at this time either lived in Topsfield or were intimately connected with the church and people there. The accusing girls had heard them angrily spoken of by the people around them, and availed themselves, as at all times, of existing prejudices, to guide them in the selection of their victim.

It will be noted that seven out of the nine examined at this time either lived in Topsfield or were closely connected with the church and the people there. The accusing girls had heard them spoken of angrily by those around them and took advantage, as they always did, of existing prejudices to choose their victim.

The escape of Abbot, and the wavering, in his case and that of Easty, indicated by the magistrates on this occasion, alarmed the prosecutors; and they felt that something must be done to stiffen Hathorne and Corwin to their previous rigid method of procedure. The following letter was accordingly written to them that very day, immediately after the close of the examinations:—

The escape of Abbot, along with the hesitation shown by the magistrates in his case and Easty’s, alarmed the prosecutors; they sensed that action was needed to push Hathorne and Corwin back to their usual strict approach. As a result, the following letter was written to them that same day, right after the examinations ended:—

"These to the Honored John Hathorne and Jonathan Corwin, Esqrs., living at Salem, present.

To the Honored John Hathorne and Jonathan Corwin, Esqrs., living in Salem, this is presented.

"Salem Village, this 21st of April, 1692.

"Salem Village, April 21, 1692."

"Much Honored,—After most humble and hearty thanks presented to Your Honors for the great care and pains you have already taken for us,—for which you know[ii.140] we are never able to make you recompense, and we believe you do not expect it of us; therefore a full reward will be given you of the Lord God of Israel, whose cause and interest you have espoused (and we trust this shall add to your crown of glory in the day of the Lord Jesus): and we—beholding continually the tremendous works of Divine Providence, not only every day, but every hour—thought it our duty to inform Your Honors of what we conceive you have not heard, which are high and dreadful,—of a wheel within a wheel, at which our ears do tingle. Humbly craving continually your prayers and help in this distressed case,—so, praying Almighty God continually to prepare you, that you may be a terror to evil-doers and a praise to them that do well, we remain yours to serve in what we are able,

"Highly respected,—After our sincere and heartfelt thanks to Your Honors for the great care and effort you have already dedicated to us,—for which, as you know[ii.140], we can never truly repay you, and we believe you do not expect that from us; therefore, a complete reward will be given to you by the Lord God of Israel, whose cause and interests you have championed (and we trust this will add to your crown of glory on the day of the Lord Jesus): and we—constantly witnessing the incredible works of Divine Providence, not just daily, but every hour—felt it was our duty to inform Your Honors of what we believe you have not yet heard, which is significant and alarming,—like a wheel within a wheel, that makes our ears tingle. We humbly ask for your prayers and assistance in this troubling matter,—so, praying that Almighty God continually prepares you to be a fear to wrongdoers and a praise to those who do well, we remain yours to serve in any way we can,

"Thomas Putnam."

"Thomas Putnam."

What was meant by the "wheel within a wheel," the "high and dreadful" things which were making their ears to tingle, but had not yet been disclosed to the magistrates, we shall presently see. On the 30th of April, Captain Jonathan Walcot and Sergeant Thomas Putnam (the writer of the foregoing letter) got out a warrant against Philip English, of Salem, merchant; Sarah Morrel, of Beverly; and Dorcas Hoar, of the same place, widow. Morrel and Hoar were delivered by Marshal Herrick, according to the tenor of the warrant, at 11, a.m., May 2, at the house of Lieutenant Nathaniel Ingersoll, in Salem Village. The warrant has an indorsement in these words: "Mr. Philip English not being to be found. G.H." As the records of the examinations of Philip English[ii.141] and his wife have not been preserved, and only a few fragments of the testimony relating to their case are to be found, all that can be said is that the girls and their accomplices made their usual charges against them. There are two depositions in existence, however, which afford some explanation of the causes that exposed Mr. English to hostility, and indicate the kind of evidence that was brought against him. Having many landed estates, in various places, and extensive business transactions, he was liable to frequent questions of litigation. He was involved, at one time, in a lawsuit about the bounds of a piece of land in Marblehead. A person named William Beale, of that town, had taken great interest in it adversely to the claims of English; and some harsh words passed between them. A year or two after the affair, Beale states, "that, as I lay in my bed, in the morning, presently after it was fair light abroad in the room," "I saw a dark shade," &c. To his vision it soon assumed the shape of Philip English. On a previous occasion, when riding through Lynn to get testimony against English in the aforesaid boundary case, he says, "My nose gushed out bleeding in a most extraordinary manner, so that it bloodied a handkerchief of considerable bigness, and also ran down upon my clothes and upon my horse's mane." He charged it upon English. These depositions were sworn to in Court, in August, 1692, and January, 1693. How they got there does not appear, as English was never brought to trial. All that relates to Mr.[ii.142] English and his wife may be despatched at this point. On the 6th of May, a warrant was procured at Boston, "To the marshal-general, or his lawful deputy," to apprehend Philip English wherever found within the jurisdiction, and convey him to the "custody of the marshal of Essex." Jacob Manning, a deputy-marshal, delivered him to the marshal of Essex on the 30th of May; and he was brought before the magistrates on the next day, and, after examination, committed to prison. He and his wife effected their escape from jail, and found refuge in New York until the proceedings were terminated, when they returned to Salem, and continued to reside here. She survived the shock given by the accusation, the danger to which she had been exposed, and the sufferings of imprisonment, but a short time. They occupied the highest social position. He was a merchant, conducting an extensive business, and had a large estate; owning fourteen buildings in the town, a wharf, and twenty-one sail of vessels. His dwelling-house, represented in the frontispiece of this volume, stood until a recent period, and is remembered by many of us. Its site was on the southern side of Essex Street, near its termination; comprising the area between English and Webb Streets. It must have been a beautiful situation; commanding at that time a full, unobstructed view of the Beverly and Marblehead shores, and all the waters and points of land between them. The mansion was spacious in its dimensions, and bore the marks of having been constructed in the[ii.143] best style of elegance, strength, and finish. It was indeed a curious and venerable specimen of the domestic architecture of its day. A first-class house then; in its proportions, arrangements, and attachments, it would compare well with first-class houses now. Mrs. English was a lady of eminent character and culture. Traditions to this effect have come down with singular uniformity through all the old families of the place. She was the only child of Richard Hollingsworth, and inherited his large property. The Rev. William Bentley, D.D., in his "Description of Salem," and whose daily life made him conversant with all that relates to the locality of Mrs. English's residence, says that the officer came to apprehend her in the evening, after she had retired to rest. He was admitted by the servants, and read his warrant in her bedchamber. Guards were placed around the house. To be accused by the afflicted children was then regarded as certain death. "In the morning," says Bentley, "she attended the devotions of her family, kissed her children with great composure, proposed her plan for their education, took leave of them, and then told the officer she was ready to die." Dr. Bentley suggests that unfriendly feelings may have existed against Mr. English in consequence of some controversies he had been engaged in with the town about the title to lands; that the superior style in which his family lived had subjected them to vulgar prejudice; that the existence of this feeling becoming known to the "afflicted girls" led them[ii.144] to cry out against him and his wife. It may be so. They availed themselves of every such advantage; and particularly liked to strike high, so as the more to astound and overawe the public mind.

What was meant by the "wheel within a wheel," the "high and dreadful" things that were making their ears tingle but had not yet been revealed to the magistrates, we will soon see. On April 30th, Captain Jonathan Walcot and Sergeant Thomas Putnam (the writer of the previous letter) obtained a warrant against Philip English, a merchant from Salem; Sarah Morrel from Beverly; and Dorcas Hoar, also from Beverly, who was a widow. Morrel and Hoar were delivered by Marshal Herrick, as per the warrant, at 11 a.m. on May 2, at Lieutenant Nathaniel Ingersoll's house in Salem Village. The warrant has a note stating: "Mr. Philip English not being to be found. G.H." Since the records of the examinations of Philip English and his wife have not been preserved and only a few fragments of testimony related to their case exist, all that can be said is that the girls and their accomplices made their usual accusations against them. However, two depositions do exist that provide some insight into the reasons why Mr. English faced hostility and the type of evidence brought against him. With multiple properties in various locations and extensive business dealings, he was often involved in legal disputes. At one point, he was tangled in a lawsuit concerning the boundaries of a piece of land in Marblehead. A man named William Beale from that town was strongly opposed to English's claims, leading to some harsh exchanges between them. A year or two after the incident, Beale reported, "that as I lay in my bed, in the morning, shortly after it was light in the room," "I saw a dark shade," etc. To him, this shade soon took the form of Philip English. On a previous occasion, while riding through Lynn to gather testimony against English regarding the boundary case, he stated, "My nose began to bleed in an extraordinary manner, enough to stain a sizable handkerchief and also run down my clothes and my horse's mane." He blamed it on English. These depositions were sworn in court in August 1692 and January 1693. How they got there is unclear, as English was never brought to trial. Everything concerning Mr. English and his wife can be summarized here. On May 6, a warrant was obtained in Boston, "To the marshal-general, or his lawful deputy," to apprehend Philip English wherever he could be found within the jurisdiction and take him to the "custody of the marshal of Essex." Jacob Manning, a deputy marshal, delivered him to the marshal of Essex on May 30, and he was brought before the magistrates the next day, examined, and then sent to prison. He and his wife managed to escape from jail and found refuge in New York until the legal proceedings concluded, after which they returned to Salem and continued living there. She survived the shock of the accusation, the danger she faced, and the suffering of imprisonment for only a short time. They held the highest social standing. He was a merchant running a large business and owned a significant estate, which included fourteen buildings in town, a wharf, and twenty-one vessels. His house, depicted in the frontispiece of this volume, stood until recently and is remembered by many. It was located on the south side of Essex Street, near its end, covering the area between English and Webb Streets. It must have been a lovely spot, offering at that time a full, unobstructed view of the Beverly and Marblehead shores and all the waters and lands between them. The mansion was spacious and showed signs of having been built in the best style of elegance, strength, and finish. It was a remarkable and historic example of domestic architecture from its time. A first-class house then; in its design, layout, and features, it would compare well with first-class houses today. Mrs. English was a woman of great character and education. This is a tradition that has been passed down consistently through the old families in the area. She was the only child of Richard Hollingsworth and inherited his substantial estate. Rev. William Bentley, D.D., in his "Description of Salem," who was well acquainted with everything about the area where Mrs. English lived, noted that the officer came to arrest her in the evening after she had gone to bed. He was let in by the servants and read his warrant in her bedroom. Guards were positioned around the house. Being accused by the afflicted children was then considered a sure death sentence. "In the morning," Bentley writes, "she participated in her family's devotions, kissed her children with great calm, discussed her plans for their education, said her goodbyes, and then told the officer she was ready to die." Dr. Bentley suggests that hostility may have stemmed from some disputes Mr. English had with the town regarding land titles; that the higher standard of living his family maintained may have subjected them to common prejudice; and that if the "afflicted girls" became aware of this sentiment, it led them to accuse him and his wife. This could be true. They took advantage of every such opportunity and especially liked to aim high to astonish and intimidate the public even more.

I find no further mention of Sarah Morrel. She doubtless shared the fate of those escaping death,—a long imprisonment. When Dorcas Hoar was brought in, there was a general commotion among the afflicted, falling into fits all around. After coming out of them, they vied with each other in heaping all sorts of accusations upon the prisoner; Abigail Williams and Ann Putnam charging her with having choked a woman in Boston; Elizabeth Hubbard crying out that she was pinching her, "and showing the marks to the standers by. The marshal said she pinched her fingers at the time." The magistrate, indignantly believing the whole, said, "Dorcas Hoar, why do you hurt these?"—"I never hurt any child in my life." The girls then charged her with having killed her husband, and with various other crimes. Mary Walcot, Susanna Sheldon, and Abigail Williams said they saw a black man whispering in her ear. The spirit of the prisoner was raised; and she said, "Oh, you are liars, and God will stop the mouth of liars!" The anger of the magistrates was roused by this bold outbreak. "You are not to speak after this manner in the Court."—"I will speak the truth as long as I live," she fearlessly replied. Parris says, at the close of his account, "The afflicted were much distressed[ii.145] during her examination." Of course, she was sent to prison.

I can't find any more information about Sarah Morrel. She probably experienced the same fate as those trying to escape death—a long imprisonment. When Dorcas Hoar was brought in, there was a huge commotion among the afflicted, who began having fits all around. Once they calmed down, they started accusing the prisoner of all sorts of things; Abigail Williams and Ann Putnam claimed she choked a woman in Boston, while Elizabeth Hubbard shouted that she was pinching her, showing the marks to those nearby. The marshal noted she pinched her fingers at that moment. The magistrate, believing all of this, angrily asked, "Dorcas Hoar, why are you hurting these girls?" She replied, "I never hurt any child in my life." The girls then accused her of killing her husband and committed several other crimes. Mary Walcot, Susanna Sheldon, and Abigail Williams claimed they saw a black man whispering in her ear. The spirit of the prisoner was lifted; she exclaimed, "Oh, you are all liars, and God will silence liars!" This bold statement angered the magistrates. "You are not allowed to speak like that in this Court."—"I will speak the truth for as long as I live," she confidently responded. Parris noted at the end of his account, "The afflicted were very distressed during her examination." Naturally, she was sent to prison.

Susanna Martin of Amesbury, a widow, was arrested on a warrant dated April 30, and examined at the Village church May 2. She is described as a short active woman, wearing a hood and scarf, plump and well developed in her figure, of remarkable personal neatness. One of the items of the evidence against her was, that, "in an extraordinary dirty season, when it was not fit for any person to travel, she came on foot" to a house at Newbury. The woman of the house, the substance of whose testimony I am giving, having asked, "whether she came from Amesbury afoot," expressed her surprise at her having ventured abroad in such bad walking, and bid her children make way for her to come to the fire to dry herself. She replied "she was as dry as I was," and turned her coats aside; "and I could not perceive that the soles of her shoes were wet. I was startled at it, that she should come so dry; and told her that I should have been wet up to my knees, if I should have come so far on foot." She replied that "she scorned to have a drabbled tail." The good woman who treated Susanna Martin on this occasion with such hospitable kindness received the impression, as appears by the import of her deposition, that, because Martin came into the house so wonderfully dry, she was therefore a witch. The only inference we are likely to draw is, that she was a particularly neat person; careful to pick her[ii.146] way; and did not wear skirts of the dimensions of our times.

Susanna Martin of Amesbury, a widow, was arrested on a warrant dated April 30 and examined at the Village church on May 2. She is described as a short, active woman wearing a hood and scarf, plump and well-proportioned, with remarkable personal neatness. One of the pieces of evidence against her was that “in an exceptionally muddy season, when it was not safe for anyone to travel, she walked” to a house in Newbury. The woman of the house, whose testimony I’m summarizing, asked, “Did you walk here from Amesbury?” and expressed surprise that she had dared to go out in such terrible conditions, telling her children to let her come to the fire to dry off. Susanna replied, “I’m as dry as you are,” and moved her coats aside; “I couldn’t see that the soles of her shoes were wet. I was shocked that she would come in so dry; I told her I would have been soaked up to my knees if I had walked that far.” She responded that “she refused to have a wet hem.” The kind woman who welcomed Susanna Martin in this way got the impression, as shown in her testimony, that because Martin arrived at her house so unbelievably dry, she must be a witch. The only conclusion we might draw is that she was particularly neat, careful about her appearance, and didn’t wear skirts as long as those common in our time.

The language reported by this witness to have been used by Susanna Martin created in her, at the time, visible mortification, as well as resentment. A writer at the period, not by any means inclined to give a representation favorable to the prisoners, reports her expression thus: "She scorned to be drabbled." She was undoubtedly a woman who spoke her mind freely, and with strength of expression, as the magistrates found. From this cause, perhaps, she had shocked the prejudices and violated the conventional scrupulosities then prevalent, to such a degree as to incur much comment, if not scandal. There had been a good deal of gossip about her; and, some time before, she had been proceeded against as a witch. But there was no ground for any serious charges against her character. Like Mrs. Ann Hibbens, perhaps the head and front of her offending was that she had more wit than her neighbors. She certainly was a strong-minded woman, as her examination shows. Two reports of it, each in the handwriting of Parris, have come down to us. They are almost identical, and in substance as follows:—

The language this witness reported that Susanna Martin used visibly mortified and angered her at the time. A writer from that period, who wasn’t inclined to portray the prisoners positively, described her expression this way: "She scorned to be drabbled." She was clearly a woman who spoke her mind openly and forcefully, as the magistrates discovered. Perhaps this caused her to shock societal norms and challenge the conventional standards of the time, leading to much discussion, if not scandal. There had been quite a bit of gossip about her, and some time before, she had been accused of witchcraft. However, there was no substantial evidence against her character. Like Mrs. Ann Hibbens, it seems her main offense was simply having more intelligence than her neighbors. She was certainly a strong-minded woman, as her examination demonstrates. Two reports of her examination, each in Parris's handwriting, have survived. They are nearly identical and summarize as follows:—

On the appearance of the accused, many of the witnesses against her instantly fell into fits. The magistrate inquired of them,—

On seeing the accused, many of the witnesses against her immediately fainted. The magistrate asked them,—

"Hath this woman hurt you?"

"Has this woman hurt you?"

"(Abigail Williams declared that she had hurt her[ii.147] often. 'Ann Putnam threw her glove at her in a fit,' and the rest were struck dumb at her presence.)

"(Abigail Williams claimed that she had hurt her[ii.147] frequently. 'Ann Putnam threw her glove at her in a rage,' and the others were left speechless by her presence.)"

"What! do you laugh at it? said the magistrate.—Well I may at such folly.

"What! Are you laughing at it? said the magistrate. —Well, I might as well laugh at such nonsense."

"Is this folly to see these so hurt?—I never hurt man, woman, or child.

"Is it foolish to see them so hurt?—I never harmed a man, woman, or child."

"(Mercy Lewis cried out, 'She hath hurt me a great many times, and plucks me down.' Then Martin laughed again. Several others cried out upon her, and the magistrate again addressed her.)

"(Mercy Lewis shouted, 'She has hurt me a lot of times, and pulls me down.' Then Martin laughed again. Several others yelled at her, and the magistrate spoke to her again.)"

"What do you say to this?—I have no hand in witchcraft.

"What do you think about this?—I have nothing to do with witchcraft."

"What did you do? did you consent these should be hurt?—No, never in my life.

"What did you do? Did you agree that these should be hurt?—No, never in my life."

"What ails these people?—I do not know.

What’s wrong with these people?—I have no idea.

"But what do you think ails them?—I do not desire to spend my judgment upon it.

"But what do you think is wrong with them?—I don't want to pass judgment on it."

"Do you think they are bewitched?—No: I do not think they are.

"Do you think they are under a spell?—No: I don't think they are."

"Well, tell us your thoughts about them.—My thoughts are mine own when they are in; but, when they are out, they are another's.

"Well, share your thoughts about them.—My thoughts are my own when I keep them in; but, when I express them, they belong to someone else."

"Who do you think is their master?—If they be dealing in the black art, you may know as well as I.

"Who do you think their master is? If they're involved in dark magic, you can figure it out just like I can."

"What have you done towards the hurt of these?—I have done nothing.

"What have you done to hurt these people?—I haven’t done anything."

"Why, it is you, or your appearance.—I cannot help it.

"Honestly, it's you, or how you look. — I can't change that."

"How comes your appearance just now to hurt these?—How do I know?

"Why does your appearance right now upset them?—How am I supposed to know?"

"Are you not willing to tell the truth?—I cannot tell. He that appeared in Samuel's shape can appear in any one's shape.[ii.148]

"Are you not willing to tell the truth?—I don’t know. The one who appeared as Samuel can take on anyone's form.[ii.148]

"Do you believe these afflicted persons do not say true?—They may lie, for aught I know.

"Do you think these troubled people aren't being honest? —They might be lying, for all I know."

"May not you lie?—I dare not tell a lie, if it would save my life."

"Could you be lying?—I can't tell a lie, even if it meant saving my life."

At this point, the marshal declared that "she pinched her hands, and Elizabeth Hubbard was immediately afflicted. Several of the afflicted cried out that they saw her upon the beam" of the meeting-house over their heads; and there was, no doubt, a scene of frightful excitement. The magistrate, in the depth of his awe and distress, earnestly appealed to the accused, "Pray God discover you, if you be guilty." Nothing daunted, she replied, "Amen, amen. A false tongue will never make a guilty person." A great uproar then arose. The accusers fell into dreadful convulsions, among the rest John Indian, who cried out, "She bites, she bites!" The magistrate, overcome by the sight of these sufferings, again appealed to her, "Have not you compassion for these afflicted?" She calmly and firmly answered, "No: I have none." The uproar rose higher. The accusers all declared that they saw the "black man," Satan himself, standing by her side. They pretended to try to approach her, but were suddenly deprived of the power of locomotion. John Indian attempted to rush upon her, but fell sprawling upon the floor. The magistrate again appealed to her: "What is the reason these cannot come near you?"—"I cannot tell. It may be the Devil bears me more malice than another."—"Do[ii.149] you not see God evidently discovering you?"—"No, not a bit for that."—"All the congregation besides think so."—"Let them think what they will."—"What is the reason these cannot come to you?"—"I do not know but they can, if they will; or else, if you please, I will come to them."—"What was that the black man whispered to you?"—"There was none whispered to me." She was committed to prison.

At this point, the marshal declared that "she pinched her hands, and Elizabeth Hubbard was immediately affected. Several of the afflicted shouted that they saw her on the beam" of the meeting-house above them; and there was, without a doubt, a scene of terrifying excitement. The magistrate, overwhelmed by his fear and distress, earnestly appealed to the accused, "May God reveal your guilt if you are guilty." Undeterred, she replied, "Amen, amen. A false tongue will never make a guilty person." A great uproar then erupted. The accusers fell into horrific convulsions, among them John Indian, who shouted, "She bites, she bites!" The magistrate, moved by the sight of their suffering, once again asked her, "Do you not have compassion for these afflicted?" She calmly and firmly answered, "No: I have none." The uproar grew louder. The accusers all claimed they saw the "black man," Satan himself, standing next to her. They pretended to try to approach her but suddenly found themselves unable to move. John Indian tried to rush at her but fell sprawling on the floor. The magistrate appealed to her again: "Why can’t these people come near you?"—"I don’t know. It may be the Devil hates me more than the others."—"Don’t you see God clearly revealing you?"—"Not at all."—"Everyone else in the congregation thinks so."—"Let them think what they want."—"Why can’t they come to you?"—"I don’t know, but maybe they can if they want; or if you'd like, I can go to them."—"What did the black man whisper to you?"—"No one whispered to me." She was sent to prison.

In the mean while, preparations had been going on to bring upon the stage a more striking character, and give to the excited public mind a greater shock than had yet been experienced. Intimations had been thrown out that higher culprits than had been so far brought to light were in reserve, and would, in due time, be unmasked. It was hinted that a minister had joined the standard of the Arch-enemy, and was leading the devilish confederacy. In the accounts given of the diabolical sacraments, a man in black had been described, but no name yet given. As Charles the Second, while they were hanging the regicides, at the Restoration, was looking about for a preacher to hang, and used Hugh Peters for the occasion; so the "afflicted children," or those acting behind them, wanted a minister to complete the dramatis personæ of their tragedy. His connection with the society and its controversies, and the animosities which had thus become attached to him, naturally suggested Mr. Burroughs. He was then pursuing, as usual, a laborious, humble, self-sacrificing ministry, in the midst of perils and privations, away[ii.150] down in the frontier settlements on the coast of Maine, and little dreamed of what was brewing, for his ruin and destruction, in his former parish at the village. This is what Thomas Putnam had in his mind when he spoke of a "wheel within a wheel," and "the high and dreadful" things not then disclosed that were to make "ears tingle."

Meanwhile, preparations were underway to introduce a more dramatic character and give the already excited public an even bigger shock than they had experienced so far. There were hints that more serious offenders than those already revealed were waiting to be exposed and would be unmasked in due time. It was suggested that a minister had allied with the Arch-enemy and was leading a wicked conspiracy. In the accounts of the sinister ceremonies, a man dressed in black had been described, but his name had not yet been revealed. Just as Charles the Second, while the regicides were being hanged during the Restoration, was looking for a preacher to execute and chose Hugh Peters for the task, so the "afflicted children," or those manipulating them, needed a minister to complete the dramatis personæ of their tragedy. Given his connections with the society and its conflicts, along with the animosities that had built up against him, Mr. Burroughs naturally came to mind. At that time, he was engaged in his usual laborious, humble, self-sacrificing ministry, facing dangers and hardships far down in the frontier settlements on the coast of Maine, and he had no idea of the plots forming in his former parish in the village that would lead to his ruin and destruction. This is what Thomas Putnam referred to when he mentioned a "wheel within a wheel" and the "high and dreadful" things that had not yet been revealed, which would make "ears tingle."

It was necessary to be at once cautious and rapid in their movements, to prevent the public from getting information which, by reaching the ears of Burroughs, might put him on his guard. It was no easy thing to secure him at the great distance of his place of residence. If he should become apprised of what was going on, his escape into remoter and inaccessible settlements would have baffled the whole scheme. Nothing therefore was done at the village, but the steps to arrest him originated at Boston. Elisha Hutchinson, a magistrate there, issued the proper order, addressed to John Partridge of Portsmouth, Field-marshal of the provinces of New Hampshire and Maine, dated April 30, 1692, to arrest George Burroughs, "preacher at Wells;" he being "suspected of a confederacy with the Devil." Partridge was directed to deliver him to the custody of the marshal of Essex, or, not meeting him, was requested to bring him to Salem, and hand him over to the magistrates there. The "afflicted children" had begun, shortly before, to use his name. Abigail Hobbs had resided some years before at Casco; and from her they obtained all the scandal she had heard there, or chose to fabricate to suit the[ii.151] purpose of the prosecutors. The way in which the minds of the deluded people were worked up against Mr. Burroughs is illustrated in a deposition subsequently made to this effect:—

They needed to be both careful and quick in what they did to stop the public from learning anything that might alert Burroughs. It was challenging to catch him given how far away he lived. If he found out what was happening, he could escape to remote and hard-to-reach places, ruining their entire plan. Therefore, nothing was done in the village; the plan to arrest him started in Boston. Elisha Hutchinson, a magistrate there, issued the relevant order to John Partridge of Portsmouth, the field marshal for the provinces of New Hampshire and Maine, dated April 30, 1692, to arrest George Burroughs, "preacher at Wells," who was "suspected of being in league with the Devil." Partridge was instructed to hand him over to the marshal of Essex or, if he couldn't meet him, to take him to Salem and turn him over to the magistrates there. The "afflicted children" had recently started using his name. Abigail Hobbs had lived in Casco a few years earlier, and they got all the gossip she heard there or made up to fit the needs of the prosecutors. The way the misguided people's minds were turned against Mr. Burroughs is shown in a deposition made later on:—

Benjamin Hutchinson testified, that, on the 21st of April, 1692, about eleven o'clock in the forenoon, Abigail Williams told him that she saw a person whom she described as Mr. George Burroughs, "a little black minister that lived at Casco Bay." Mr. Burroughs was of small stature and dark complexion. She gave an account of his wonderful feats of strength, said that he was a wizard; and that he "had killed three wives, two for himself and one for Mr. Lawson." She affirmed that she saw him then. Mr. Burroughs, it will be borne in mind, was at this time a hundred miles away, at his home in Maine. Hutchinson asked her where she saw him. She said "There," pointing to a rut in the road made by a cart-wheel. He had an iron fork in his hand, and threw it where she said Burroughs was standing. Instantly she fell into a fit; and, when she came out of it, said, "'You have torn his coat, for I heard it tear.'—'Whereabouts?' said I. 'On one side,' said she. Then we came into the house of Lieutenant Ingersoll; and I went into the great room, and Abigail came in and said, 'There he stands.' I said, 'Where? where?' and presently drew my rapier." Then Abigail said, he has gone, but "'there is a gray cat.' Then I said, 'Whereabouts?' 'There!' said she, 'there!' Then I struck with my rapier, and she fell into a fit; and, when it[ii.152] was over, she said, 'You killed her.'" Poor Hutchinson could not see the cat he had killed any more than Burroughs's coat he had torn. Abigail explained the mystery to his satisfaction, by saying that the spectre of Sarah Good had come in at the moment, and carried away the dead cat. This was all in broad daylight; it being, as Hutchinson testified, "about twelve o'clock." The same day, "after lecture, in said Ingersoll's chamber," Abigail Williams and Mary Walcot were present. They said that "Goody Hobbs, of Topsfield, had bit Mary Walcot by the foot." Then both fell into a fit; and on coming out, "they saw William Hobbs and his wife go both of them along the table." Hutchinson instantly stabbed, with his rapier, "Goody Hobbs on her side," as the two girls declared. They further said that the room was "full of them," that is of witches, in their apparitions; then Hutchinson and Eleazer Putnam "stabbed with their rapiers at a venture." The girls cried out, that they "had killed a great black woman of Stonington, and an Indian who had come with her:" the girls said further, "The floor is all covered with blood;" and, rushing to the window, declared that they saw a great company of witches on a hill, and that three of them "lay dead" there,—"the black woman, the Indian, and one more that they knew not." This was about four o'clock in the afternoon. This evidence was given and received in court. It shows the audacity with which the girls imposed upon the credulity of a people wrought up by their arts to the highest pitch of in[ii.153]sane infatuation; and illustrates a condition of things, at that time and place, that is truly astonishing.

Benjamin Hutchinson testified that on April 21, 1692, around eleven in the morning, Abigail Williams told him she saw someone she described as Mr. George Burroughs, "a little black minister who lived at Casco Bay." Mr. Burroughs was short and had a dark complexion. She shared stories of his amazing feats of strength, claimed he was a wizard, and said he "had killed three wives, two for himself and one for Mr. Lawson." She insisted that she saw him at that moment. It's important to note that Mr. Burroughs was actually a hundred miles away at home in Maine. Hutchinson asked her where she saw him, and she pointed to a rut in the road left by a cart-wheel. He had an iron fork in his hand and threw it where she said Burroughs was standing. Suddenly, she fell into a fit; when she recovered, she said, "'You have torn his coat, for I heard it tear.'—'Where?' I asked. 'On one side,' she replied. Then we went into Lieutenant Ingersoll's house, and I entered the main room. Abigail came in, saying, 'There he stands.' I asked, 'Where? where?' and then drew my rapier." After that, Abigail said he had gone, but "'there is a gray cat.' So I asked, 'Where?' 'There!' she exclaimed. Then I struck with my rapier, and she fell into a fit; when it[ii.152] was over, she said, 'You killed her.'" Poor Hutchinson couldn’t see the cat he supposedly killed any more than Burroughs's coat he had torn. Abigail explained it to his satisfaction, saying that the specter of Sarah Good had arrived just then and took away the dead cat. This all happened in broad daylight; Hutchinson stated it was "about twelve o'clock." Later that same day, "after lecture, in Ingersoll's room," Abigail Williams and Mary Walcot were there. They claimed that "Goody Hobbs from Topsfield had bitten Mary Walcot on the foot." Then both girls fell into a fit; when they came to, "they saw William Hobbs and his wife both walk along the table." Hutchinson quickly stabbed, with his rapier, "Goody Hobbs on her side," as the two girls claimed. They also stated that the room was "full of them," referring to witches in their apparitions; then Hutchinson and Eleazer Putnam "stabbed with their rapiers at random." The girls screamed that they "had killed a great black woman from Stonington and an Indian who had come with her." They also said, "The floor is all covered with blood," and rushed to the window, claiming they saw a huge crowd of witches on a hill, and that three of them "lay dead" there,—"the black woman, the Indian, and one more they didn’t recognize." This was around four in the afternoon. This testimony was given and accepted in court. It illustrates the audacity with which the girls exploited the gullibility of a people driven to a peak of insane obsession by their antics, highlighting a situation that was truly astonishing for that time and place.

On the evening before Hutchinson was imposed upon, as just described, by Abigail Williams and Mary Walcot, Ann Putnam had made most astonishing disclosures, at her father's house, in his presence and that of Peter Prescott, Robert Morrel, and Ezekiel Cheever. An account of the affair was drawn up by her father, and sworn to by her, in these words:—

On the evening before Hutchinson was pressured by Abigail Williams and Mary Walcot, Ann Putnam made some shocking revelations at her father's house, with him, Peter Prescott, Robert Morrel, and Ezekiel Cheever present. Her father wrote up a record of the incident, which she swore to, in these words:—

"The Deposition of Ann Putnam, who testifieth and saith, on the 20th of April, 1692, at evening, she saw the apparition of a minister, at which she was grievously affrighted, and cried out, 'Oh, dreadful, dreadful! here is a minister come! What! are ministers witches too? Whence came you, and what is your name? for I will complain of you, though you be a minister, if you be a wizard.' Immediately I was tortured by him, being racked and almost choked by him. And he tempted me to write in his book, which I refused with loud outcries, and said I would not write in his book though he tore me all to pieces, but told him it was a dreadful thing that he, which was a minister, that should teach children to fear God, should come to persuade poor creatures to give their souls to the Devil. 'Oh, dreadful, dreadful! Tell me your name, that I may know who you are.' Then again he tortured me, and urged me to write in his book, which I refused. And then, presently, he told me that his name was George Burroughs, and that he had had three wives, and that he had bewitched the two first of them to death; and that he killed Mrs. Lawson, because she was so unwilling to go from the Village, and also killed Mr. Lawson's child because he went[ii.154] to the eastward with Sir Edmon, and preached so to the soldiers; and that he had bewitched a great many soldiers to death at the eastward when Sir Edmon was there; and that he had made Abigail Hobbs a witch, and several witches more. And he has continued ever since, by times, tempting me to write in his book, and grievously torturing me by beating, pinching, and almost choking me several times a day. He also told me that he was above a witch. He was a conjurer."

"The Deposition of Ann Putnam, who testifies and states, on April 20, 1692, in the evening, she saw the apparition of a minister, which terrified her greatly, and she cried out, 'Oh, dreadful, dreadful! A minister has come! What! Are ministers witches too? Where did you come from, and what is your name? I will report you, even if you are a minister, if you are a wizard.' Immediately, I was tormented by him, feeling as if I was being racked and almost choked. He tempted me to write in his book, which I refused with loud cries, saying I would not write in his book even if he tore me apart, telling him it was a terrible thing for someone who was a minister, meant to teach children to fear God, to come and persuade poor souls to give their lives to the Devil. 'Oh, dreadful, dreadful! Tell me your name, so I may know who you are.' Then he tortured me again, urging me to write in his book, which I refused. Soon after, he told me his name was George Burroughs and that he had three wives, claiming he had bewitched the first two to death; that he killed Mrs. Lawson because she was reluctant to leave the Village, and also killed Mr. Lawson's child because he went eastward with Sir Edmon and preached to the soldiers; that he had bewitched many soldiers to death in the east when Sir Edmon was there; and that he had made Abigail Hobbs a witch, along with several others. He has continued to tempt me to write in his book, torturing me severely by beating, pinching, and almost choking me several times a day. He also claimed that he was above a witch. He was a conjurer."

Her father and the other persons present made oath that they saw and heard all this at the time; that "they beheld her tortures and perceived her hellish temptations by her loud outcries, 'I will not, I will not write, though you torment me all the days of my life.'" It will be observed that this was the evening before Thomas Putnam wrote his letter to the magistrates, preparing them for something "high and dreadful" that was soon to be brought to light.

Her father and the others present swore that they saw and heard everything at the time; that "they witnessed her suffering and sensed her terrifying struggles by her loud cries, 'I won't, I won't write, even if you torment me every day of my life.'" It should be noted that this was the evening before Thomas Putnam wrote his letter to the magistrates, alerting them to something "serious and terrible" that was about to be revealed.

A similar scene took place not long afterwards, in the presence of her father and her uncle Edward, to which they also testify. It was thus described by her under oath:—

A similar scene happened soon after, in front of her father and her uncle Edward, who can also confirm it. She described it this way while under oath:—

"The Deposition of Ann Putnam, who testifieth and saith, that, on the 8th of May, at evening, I saw the apparition of Mr. George Burroughs, who grievously tortured me, and urged me to write in his book, which I refused. He then told me that his two first wives would appear to me presently, and tell me a great many lies, but I should not believe them. Then immediately appeared to me the forms of two women in winding-sheets, and napkins about[ii.155] their heads, at which I was greatly affrighted; and they turned their faces towards Mr. Burroughs, and looked very red and angry, and told him that he had been a cruel man to them, and that their blood did cry for vengeance against him; and also told him that they should be clothed with white robes in heaven, when he should be cast into hell: and immediately he vanished away. And, as soon as he was gone, the two women turned their faces towards me, and looked as pale as a white wall; and told me that they were Mr. Burroughs's two first wives, and that he had murdered them. And one of them told me that she was his first wife, and he stabbed her under the left arm, and put a piece of sealing-wax on the wound. And she pulled aside the winding-sheet, and showed me the place; and also told me, that she was in the house where Mr. Parris now lives, when it was done. And the other told me, that Mr. Burroughs and that wife which he hath now, killed her in the vessel, as she was coming to see her friends, because they would have one another. And they both charged me that I should tell these things to the magistrates before Mr. Burroughs' face; and, if he did not own them, they did not know but they should appear there. This morning, also, Mrs. Lawson and her daughter Ann appeared to me, whom I knew, and told me Mr. Burroughs murdered them. This morning also appeared to me another woman in a winding-sheet, and told me that she was Goodman Fuller's first wife, and Mr. Burroughs killed her because there was some difference between her husband and him."

"The Testimony of Ann Putnam, who testifies and says that, on the evening of May 8th, I saw the ghost of Mr. George Burroughs, who severely tormented me and pressured me to write in his book, which I refused. He then told me that his two former wives would appear to me soon and tell me many lies, but I should not believe them. Then, immediately, the figures of two women in burial shrouds appeared to me, with cloths wrapped around[ii.155] their heads, which frightened me a lot; they turned their faces toward Mr. Burroughs, looking very red and angry, and told him that he had been a cruel man to them and that their blood cried out for revenge against him; they also told him that they would be dressed in white robes in heaven when he was cast into hell: and suddenly he vanished. As soon as he was gone, the two women turned their faces toward me, looking as pale as a white wall, and told me that they were Mr. Burroughs's two former wives and that he had murdered them. One of them said she was his first wife, and that he stabbed her under the left arm and put a piece of sealing wax on the wound. She pulled back the burial shroud and showed me the spot; she also said that she was in the house where Mr. Parris now lives when it happened. The other woman said that Mr. Burroughs and his current wife killed her in the carriage as she was coming to see her friends because they wanted each other. They both insisted that I should tell these things to the magistrates in front of Mr. Burroughs; and if he denied them, they might still appear there. This morning, Mrs. Lawson and her daughter Ann appeared to me, whom I recognized, and told me that Mr. Burroughs murdered them. This morning, another woman in a burial shroud appeared to me and said that she was Goodman Fuller's first wife, and Mr. Burroughs killed her because of some dispute between her husband and him."

This was indeed most extraordinary language and imagery to have been used by a child of twelve years of age. It is not strange, that, upon a community,[ii.156] whose fancies and fears had been so long wrought upon, holding their views, the effect was awfully great. The very fact that it was a child that spoke made her declarations seem supernatural. Then, again, they were accompanied with such ocular demonstration, in her terrible bodily sufferings, that none remained in doubt of the truthfulness and reality of what they listened to and beheld. It did not enter their imaginations, for a moment, that there was any deception or imposture, or even delusion, on her part. Her case is truly a problem not easily solved even now. While we are filled with horror and indignation at the thought that she figures as a capital and fatal witness in all the trials, it is impossible not to feel that a wisdom greater than ours is necessary to fathom the dark mystery of the phenomena presented by her and her mother and other accusers, in this monstrous and terrible affair.

This was truly exceptional language and imagery for a twelve-year-old. It's not surprising that, in a community,[ii.156] whose imagination and fears had been so deeply influenced, the impact was immense. The fact that it was a child speaking made her claims seem otherworldly. Additionally, they were supported by such vivid evidence, in her intense physical struggles, that no one doubted the truth of what they heard and saw. They didn’t even consider, for a second, that there was any trickery, sham, or even delusion on her part. Her situation is still a complex puzzle today. While we are filled with horror and anger at the idea that she serves as a key and damaging witness in all the trials, it’s hard not to feel that a wisdom beyond our own is needed to understand the dark mystery behind the events involving her, her mother, and the other accusers in this horrific situation.

These occurrences, happening just before Mr. Burroughs was brought to the village as a prisoner, were bruited from house to house, from mouth to mouth, and worked the people to a state of horrified exasperation against him; and he was met with execration, when, on the 4th of May, Field-marshal Partridge appeared with him at Salem, and delivered him to the jailer there. When we consider the distance and the circumstances of travel at that time, it is evident that the officers charged with the service acted with the greatest promptitude, celerity, and energy. The tradition is, that they found Mr. Burroughs in his humble[ii.157] home, partaking of his frugal meal; that he was snatched from the table without a moment's opportunity to provide for his family, or prepare himself for the journey, and hurried on his way roughly, and without the least explanation of what it all meant. As soon as it was known that he was in jail in Salem, arrangements were commenced for his examination. The public mind was highly excited; and it was determined to make the occasion as impressive, effective, and awe-striking as possible. Another "field-day" was to be had. On the 9th of May, a special session of the Magistracy was held,—William Stoughton coming from Dorchester, and Samuel Sewall from Boston, to sit with Hathorne and Corwin, and give greater solemnity and severity to the proceedings. Stoughton presided. The first step in the proceedings was to have a private hearing, in the presence of the magistrates and ministers only; and the report of what passed there gives proof of what is indicated more or less clearly in several passages in the accounts that have come down to us in reference to Mr. Burroughs,—that he was regarded as not wholly sound in doctrine on points not connected with witchcraft, was treated with special severity on that account, and made the victim of bigoted prejudice among his brethren and in the churches. In this secret inquisition, he was called to account for not attending the communion service on one or two occasions; he being a member of the church at Roxbury. It was also brought against him, that none of his children but the eldest had been[ii.158] baptized. What the facts, in these respects, were, it is impossible to say; as we know of them only through the charges of his enemies. After this, he was carried to the place of public meeting; and, as he entered the room, "many, if not all, the bewitched were grievously tortured." After the confusion had subsided, Susanna Sheldon testified that Burroughs' two wives had appeared to her "in their winding-sheets," and said, "That man killed them." He was ordered to look on the witness; and, as he turned to do so, he "knocked down," as the reporter affirms, "all (or most) of the afflicted that stood behind him." Ann Putnam, and the several other "afflicted children," bore their testimony in a similar strain against him, interspersing at intervals, all their various convulsions, outcries, and tumblings. Mercy Lewis had "a dreadful and tedious fit." Walcot, Hubbard, and Sheldon were cast into torments simultaneously. At length, they were "so tortured" that "authority ordered them" to be removed. Their sufferings were greater than the magistrates and people could longer endure to look upon. The question was put to Burroughs, "what he thought of these things." He answered, "it was an amazing and humbling providence, but he understood nothing of it." Throwing aside all the foolish and ridiculous gossip and all the monstrous fables that belong to the accusations against him, and looking at the only known facts in his history, it appears that Mr. Burroughs was a man of ingenuous nature, free from guile, unsuspicious of guile in[ii.159] others; a disinterested, humble, patient, and generous person. He had suffered much wrong, and endured great hardships in life; but they had not impaired his readiness to labor and suffer for others. There was no combativeness or vindictiveness in his disposition. Even in the midst of the unspeakable outrages he was experiencing on this occasion, he does not appear to be incensed or irritated, but simply "amazed." To have such horrid crimes laid to him, instead of rousing a violent spirit within him, impressed him with a humbling sense of an inscrutable Providence. There is a remarkable similarity in the manner in which Rebecca Nurse and George Burroughs received the dreadful accusations brought against them. "Surely," she said, "what sin hath God found out in me unrepented of that he should lay such an affliction upon me in my old age?" His words are, "It is an humbling providence of God." The more we reflect upon this language, and go to the depths of the spirit that suggested it, the more we realize, that, in each case, it arose from a sanctified Christian heart, and is an attestation in vindication and in honor of the sufferers from whose lips it fell, that outweighs all passions and prejudices, reverses all verdicts, and commands the conviction of all fair and honest minds.

These events, which took place just before Mr. Burroughs was brought to the village as a prisoner, spread from house to house and person to person, stirring up the locals to a state of horrified anger against him. When, on May 4th, Field-marshal Partridge arrived with him in Salem and handed him over to the jailer there, he was met with condemnation. Given the distance and travel conditions at the time, it’s clear that the officers assigned to the task acted with remarkable quickness and energy. The story goes that they found Mr. Burroughs at his modest home, eating a simple meal; he was taken from the table without any chance to prepare for his family or get ready for the journey, and was rushed away roughly, without any explanation. Once it became known that he was in jail in Salem, plans were set in motion for his trial. The public was highly agitated, and it was decided to make the event as dramatic and striking as possible. Another "field-day" was scheduled. On May 9th, a special Magistracy session was held, with William Stoughton coming from Dorchester and Samuel Sewall from Boston, joining Hathorne and Corwin to add more seriousness to the proceedings. Stoughton presided over the meeting. The first step in the proceedings was to hold a private hearing attended only by magistrates and ministers; the report of what transpired there suggests that Mr. Burroughs was considered somewhat unsound in his teachings on issues unrelated to witchcraft, and was treated with extra harshness because of it, becoming a victim of prejudice among his peers and in the churches. During this secret inquisition, he was questioned about not attending communion on one or two occasions, given that he was a member of the Roxbury church. It was also stated that only his eldest child had been baptized. What the actual situation was regarding these claims is unclear, as we only have the accusations from his enemies. Afterward, he was taken to the public meeting place; as he entered the room, "many, if not all, the bewitched were grievously tortured." Once the noise settled down, Susanna Sheldon testified that Burroughs' two wives appeared to her "in their winding-sheets," claiming, "That man killed them." He was ordered to look at the witness; as he turned to do so, he "knocked down," according to the reporter, "all (or most) of the afflicted that stood behind him." Ann Putnam and several other "afflicted children" gave similar testimonies against him, interspersed with their various convulsions, cries, and falls. Mercy Lewis experienced "a dreadful and tedious fit." Walcot, Hubbard, and Sheldon were tormented at the same time. Eventually, they were "so tortured" that "authority ordered them" to be removed. The magistrates and crowd could no longer bear to watch their suffering. They asked Burroughs, "What do you think about these things?" He replied, "It is an amazing and humbling providence, but I understand nothing of it." Setting aside all the absurd gossip and monstrous tales tied to the accusations against him, and focusing on the known facts of his life, it seems that Mr. Burroughs was a genuine person, honest and unsuspecting of deceit in others; he was selfless, humble, patient, and generous. He had endured much unfairness and hardship in his life, yet it hadn’t diminished his willingness to work and suffer for others. He showed no tendency towards aggression or revenge. Even amid the unimaginable wrongs he faced during this time, he did not appear angry or upset, but merely "amazed." Instead of inflaming a violent spirit within him, these horrific allegations seemed to instill in him a humbling awareness of an unfathomable Providence. There is a striking similarity in how Rebecca Nurse and George Burroughs reacted to the horrible accusations against them. "Surely," she said, "what sin has God found in me unrepented that He should lay such a burden on me in my old age?" His response was, "It is a humbling providence of God." The more we reflect on these words and explore the depth of the spirit that inspired them, the more we see that in both cases, it stemmed from a sanctified Christian heart, and stands as a testament in defense and honor of the sufferers, carrying more weight than any passions or prejudices, overturning all verdicts, and affirming the convictions of all fair and honest minds.

After the "afflicted" had been sent out of the room, there was testimony to show that Mr. Burroughs had given proof of physical strength, which, in a man of his small stature, was sure evidence that he was in league with the Devil. Many marvellous statements[ii.160] were made to this effect, some of the most extravagant of which he denied. He undoubtedly was a person of great strength. He had cultivated muscular exercise and development while an undergraduate at Cambridge, and was early celebrated as a gymnast. After a while, the accusers and afflicted were again brought in. Abigail Hobbs testified that she was present at a "witch meeting, in the field near Mr. Parris's house," in which Mr. Burroughs acted a conspicuous part. Mary Warren swore that "Mr. Burroughs had a trumpet which he blew to summon the witches to their feasts" and other meetings "near Mr. Parris's house." This trumpet had a sound that reached over the country far and wide, sending its blasts to Andover, and wakening its echoes along the Merrimack, to Cape Ann, and the uttermost settlements everywhere; so that the witches, hearing it, would mount their brooms, and alight, in a moment, in Mr. Parris's orchard, just to the north and west of the parsonage; but its sound was not heard by any other ears than those of confederates with Satan. While the girls were giving their testimony, every once in a while they would be dreadfully choked, appearing to be in the last stages of suffocation and strangulation; and, coming to, at intervals, would charge it upon Burroughs or other witches, calling them by name; generally, however, confining their selection to persons already apprehended, and not bringing in others until measures were matured. Mr. Burroughs was committed for trial.[ii.161]

After the "afflicted" were sent out of the room, there was testimony showing that Mr. Burroughs had demonstrated physical strength, which, for someone of his small stature, was clear evidence that he was in league with the Devil. Many remarkable statements[ii.160] were made to this effect, some of which he denied as exaggerated. He was undoubtedly a strong individual. He had worked on building his muscles during his time as an undergraduate at Cambridge and was recognized early on as a gymnast. Eventually, the accusers and the afflicted were brought back in. Abigail Hobbs testified that she was present at a "witch meeting, in the field near Mr. Parris's house," where Mr. Burroughs played a significant role. Mary Warren claimed that "Mr. Burroughs had a trumpet that he blew to summon the witches to their feasts" and other meetings "near Mr. Parris's house." This trumpet had a sound that carried far and wide across the country, reaching Andover and echoing along the Merrimack, to Cape Ann, and beyond; so that the witches, hearing it, would hop on their brooms and land in Mr. Parris's orchard, just to the north and west of the parsonage; but only those in league with Satan could hear its sound. While the girls were testifying, they would occasionally choke, seeming to be on the verge of suffocation and strangulation; and then, regaining themselves, would accuse Burroughs or other witches, calling them by name; generally, however, they focused on those who had already been arrested, not implicating others until they were ready. Mr. Burroughs was committed for trial.[ii.161]

The examination of Mr. Burroughs presented a spectacle, all things considered, of rare interest and curiosity,—the grave dignity of the magistrates; the plain, dark figure of the prisoner; the half-crazed, half-demoniac aspect of the girls; the wild, excited crowd; the horror, rage, and pallid exasperation of Lawson, Goodman Fuller and others, also of the relatives and friends of Burroughs's two former wives, as the deep damnation of their taking off and the secrets of their bloody graves were being brought to light; and the child on the stand telling her awful tale of ghosts in winding-sheets, with napkins round their heads, pointing to their death-wounds, and saying that "their blood did cry for vengeance" upon their murderer. The prisoner stands alone: all were raving around him, while he is amazed; astounded at such folly and wrong in others, and humbly sensible of his own unworthiness; bowed down under the mysterious Providence, that permitted such things for a season, yet strong and steadfast in conscious innocence and uprightness.

The trial of Mr. Burroughs was quite a scene, full of interest and curiosity— the serious demeanor of the judges; the simple, dark figure of the defendant; the almost crazed, demonic look of the girls; the frantic, excited crowd; the horror, anger, and pale frustration of Lawson, Goodman Fuller, and others, as well as the relatives and friends of Burroughs's two deceased wives, while the unsettling truths about their deaths and the secrets of their graves were coming to light; and the child on the witness stand sharing her horrifying story about ghosts in burial shrouds, with cloths wrapped around their heads, pointing to their fatal wounds, and claiming that "their blood cried out for vengeance" against their killer. The defendant stood alone: everyone else was in an uproar around him, while he was bewildered; astonished at the foolishness and injustice of others, yet humbly aware of his own shortcomings; bowed down by the mysterious forces that allowed such things to happen for a time, but strong and resolute in his innocence and integrity.

To complete the proceedings against Burroughs at this time, and raise to the highest point the public abhorrence of him, effective use was made of Deliverance Hobbs, the wife of William Hobbs, of whom I have spoken before. She was first examined April 22. During the earlier part of the proceedings, she maintained her integrity and protested her innocence in a manner which shows that her self-possession held good. But the examination was protracted; her[ii.162] strength was exhausted; the declarations of the accusers, their dreadful sufferings, the prejudgment of the case against her by the magistrates, and the combined influences of all the circumstances around her, broke her down. Her firmness, courage, and truth fled; and she began to confess all that was laid to her charge. The record is interesting as showing how gradually she was overwhelmed and overcome. But while mentioning the names of others whom she pretended to have been associated with as witches, she did not speak of Burroughs. She referred to those who had been brought out before that date, but not to him. The intended movement against him had not then been divulged. On the 3d of May, the day before he arrived, after it was known that officers had been sent to arrest him, she was examined again. On this occasion, she charged Burroughs with having been present, and taken a leading part in witch-meetings, which she had described in detail, at her first examination, without mentioning him at all. This proves that the confessing prisoners were apprised of what it was desired they should say, and that their testimony was prepared for them by the managers of the affair. The following is one of the confessions made by this woman, subsequent to her public examination. I give it partly to show what a flood of falsehood was poured upon Burroughs, and partly because it will serve as a specimen of the stuff of which the confessions were composed:[ii.163]

To wrap up the case against Burroughs at this point and to heighten public disgust towards him, Deliverance Hobbs, the wife of William Hobbs, was effectively used. I’ve mentioned her before. She was first examined on April 22. During the early stages of the proceedings, she stuck to her claims of innocence and appeared composed. But the questioning dragged on; her[ii.162] strength gave out; the accusations, the harrowing stories of her accusers, the biased opinions of the magistrates, and the pressure from all the circumstances around her overwhelmed her. Her determination, bravery, and honesty crumbled, and she started to admit to everything she was accused of. The record is notable for showing how she gradually fell apart. However, while mentioning others she claimed were witches, she didn’t mention Burroughs. She talked about those already implicated up to that point, but not him. The planned actions against him hadn’t been revealed yet. On May 3, the day before he arrived, and after it was known that officers were sent to arrest him, she was examined again. This time, she accused Burroughs of being present and playing a major role in witch meetings, which she had described in detail during her first examination without mentioning him at all. This indicates that the confessing prisoners were informed about what was expected of them and that their testimony was orchestrated by the people managing the case. Here is one of the confessions made by this woman after her public examination. I include it partly to illustrate the flood of lies directed at Burroughs and partly as an example of the kind of content that made up these confessions:[ii.163]

"The First Examination of Deliverance Hobbs in Prison.—She continued in the free acknowledging herself to be a covenant witch: and further confesseth she was warned to a meeting yesterday morning, and that there was present Procter and his wife, Goody Nurse, Giles Corey and his wife, Goody Bishop alias Oliver; and Mr. Burroughs was their preacher, and pressed them to bewitch all in the village, telling them they should do it gradually, and not all at once, assuring them they should prevail. He administered the sacrament unto them at the same time, with red bread and red wine like blood. She affirms she saw Osburn, Sarah Good, Goody Wilds, Goody Nurse: and Goody Wilds distributed the bread and wine; and a man in a long-crowned white hat sat next the minister, and they sat seemingly at a table, and they filled out the wine in tankards. The notice of this meeting was given her by Goody Wilds. She, herself affirms, did not nor would not eat nor drink, but all the rest did, who were there present; therefore they threatened to torment her. The meeting was in the pasture by Mr. Parris's house, and she saw when Abigail Williams ran out to speak with them; but, by that time Abigail was come a little distance from the house, this examinant was struck blind, so that she saw not with whom Abigail spake. She further saith, that Goody Wilds, to prevail with her to sign, told her, that, if she would put her hand to the book, she would give her some clothes, and would not afflict her any more. Her daughter, Abigail Hobbs, being brought in at the same time, while her mother was present, was immediately taken with a dreadful fit; and her mother, being asked who it was that hurt her daughter, answered it was Goodman Corey, and she saw him and the gentlewoman of Boston striving to break her daughter's neck."

"The First Examination of Deliverance Hobbs in Prison.—She continued to openly acknowledge that she was a witch. She further confessed that she was summoned to a meeting yesterday morning, where Procter and his wife, Goody Nurse, Giles Corey and his wife, Goody Bishop also known as Oliver, were present; and Mr. Burroughs was their preacher, urging them to bewitch everyone in the village, advising them to do it gradually rather than all at once, assuring them they would succeed. He administered the sacrament to them simultaneously, with red bread and red wine resembling blood. She claims she saw Osburn, Sarah Good, Goody Wilds, and Goody Nurse: and Goody Wilds distributed the bread and wine; and a man in a long-crowned white hat sat next to the minister, and they were seated at a table, filling wine into tankards. Goody Wilds informed her about this meeting. She herself claims that she did not eat or drink, nor would she, but everyone else present did, which led them to threaten her. The meeting took place in the pasture by Mr. Parris's house, and she saw Abigail Williams run out to talk to them; however, by the time Abigail had gotten a little distance from the house, this examinant was struck blind, so she could not see whom Abigail was speaking with. She further states that Goody Wilds, in an attempt to convince her to sign, told her that if she would put her hand to the book, she would give her some clothes and would not torment her anymore. Her daughter, Abigail Hobbs, was brought in at the same time while her mother was present and was immediately seized by a terrible fit; when her mother was asked who hurt her daughter, she answered that it was Goodman Corey, and she saw him and the woman from Boston trying to break her daughter's neck."

On the next day, warrants were procured against George Jacobs, Sr., and his grand-daughter, Margaret Jacobs. They were forthwith seized and brought in by Constable Joseph Neal, of Salem, whose return is as follows: "May 10, 1692. Then I apprehended the bodies of George Jacobs, Sr., and Margaret, daughter of George Jacobs, Jr., according to the tenor of the above warrant." The examinations, on this occasion, were held at the house of Thomas Beadle, in the town of Salem. All the preliminary examinations, so far as existing documents show, were either in the meeting-house at the village or that of the town; or at the house of Nathaniel Ingersoll at the village, or Thomas Beadle in the town,—both being inns, or places of public entertainment. Beadle's house was on the south side of Essex Street, on land now occupied by Nos. 63 and 65. The eastern boundary of the lot was forty-nine feet from Ingersoll's Lane, now Daniels Street. Its front on Essex Street was about sixty feet, and its depth about one hundred and forty-five feet. What is now No. 65 is on the very spot where Beadle's tavern stood; and with the exception of six feet built, as an addition, on the eastern side, subsequently to 1733, is probably the identical house. The ground now occupied by No. 63 was then an open space. It appears by bills of expenses brought "against the country," that the inn of Samuel Beadle, a brother of Thomas, was also sometimes used for purposes connected with the prosecutions. Thomas Beadle's bill amounted to £58. 11s. 5d.; that of Samuel to £21. The latter, being[ii.165] near the jail, was probably used for the entertainment of constables and the keeping of their horses, as well as other incidental purposes connected with the transportation of prisoners.

The next day, warrants were issued for George Jacobs, Sr., and his granddaughter, Margaret Jacobs. They were immediately seized and brought in by Constable Joseph Neal from Salem, who reported: "May 10, 1692. Then I arrested George Jacobs, Sr., and Margaret, daughter of George Jacobs, Jr., as stated in the above warrant." The examinations took place at Thomas Beadle's house in Salem. All the preliminary examinations, as far as existing documents show, were either held in the meeting-house at the village or the town; or at Nathaniel Ingersoll's house at the village, or Thomas Beadle's place in town—both being inns or public gathering spots. Beadle's house was on the south side of Essex Street, on land now occupied by Nos. 63 and 65. The eastern boundary of the lot was forty-nine feet from Ingersoll's Lane, now Daniels Street. Its front on Essex Street was about sixty feet, and its depth was around one hundred and forty-five feet. What is now No. 65 is right where Beadle's tavern stood; and except for a six-foot addition built on the eastern side after 1733, it's likely still the same house. The land now occupied by No. 63 used to be an open space. Bills of expenses submitted "against the country" show that Samuel Beadle’s inn, a brother of Thomas, was also sometimes used for matters related to the prosecutions. Thomas Beadle's bill totaled £58. 11s. 5d.; Samuel's bill was £21. The latter, being[ii.165] near the jail, was likely used for housing constables and their horses, as well as for other incidental purposes related to transporting prisoners.

A tradition has long prevailed, that the house, still standing, of Judge Jonathan Corwin, at the western corner of North and Essex Streets, was used at these examinations. One form in which this tradition has come down is probably correct. The grand jury was often in session while the jury for trials was hearing cases in the Court-house. There may not have been suitable accommodations for both in that building. The confused sounds and commotions incident to the trials would have been annoying to the grand jury. The tradition is, that a place was provided and used temporarily by that body, in the Corwin house, supposed to have been the spacious room at the southeastern corner. As the investigations of the grand jury were not open to the public, its occasional sittings would not be seriously incompatible with the convenience of a family, or detrimental to the grounds or apartments of a handsome private residence. Indeed, it would hardly have been allowable or practicable to have had the examinations before the magistrates in any other than a public house. They were always frequented by a promiscuous crowd, and generally scenes of tumultuary disorder.

A tradition has long existed that the house of Judge Jonathan Corwin, still standing at the western corner of North and Essex Streets, was used for these examinations. One version of this tradition is likely correct. The grand jury often met while the trial jury was hearing cases in the courthouse. There may not have been enough space for both in that building. The noisy and chaotic atmosphere of the trials would have been distracting for the grand jury. The tradition states that a place was temporarily provided for them in the Corwin house, specifically in the spacious room at the southeastern corner. Since the grand jury's investigations were not open to the public, their occasional sessions wouldn't significantly disrupt a family's convenience or damage the grounds or rooms of a beautiful private residence. In fact, it would have been unlikely and impractical to conduct the examinations before the magistrates anywhere other than a public place. They were always visited by a mixed crowd and often resulted in scenes of chaotic disorder.

George Jacobs, Sr., was an aged man. He is represented in the evidence as "very gray-headed;" and he must have been quite infirm, for he walked with two[ii.166] staffs. His hair was in long, thin, white locks; and, as he was uncommonly tall of stature, he must have had a venerable aspect. Perhaps he was the "man in a long-crowned white hat," referred to by Deliverance Hobbs. The examination shows that his faculties were vigorous, his bearing fearless, and his utterances strong and decided. The magistrates began: "Here are them that accuse you of acts of witchcraft."—"Well, let us hear who are they and what are they." When Abigail Williams testified against him, going through undoubtedly her usual operations, he could not refrain from expressing his contempt for the whole thing by a laugh; explaining it by saying, "Because I am falsely accused—your worships all of you, do you think this is true?" They answered, "Nay: what do you think?" "I never did it."—"Who did it?"—"Don't ask me." The magistrates always took it for granted that the pretensions and sufferings of the girls were real, and threw upon the accused the responsibility of explaining them. They continued: "Why should we not ask you? Sarah Churchill accuseth you. There she is." Jacobs was of opinion that it was not for him to explain the actions of the girls, but for the prosecuting party to prove his guilt. "If you can prove that I am guilty, I will lie under it." Then Sarah Churchill, who was a servant in his family, said, "Last night, I was afflicted at Deacon Ingersoll's; and Mary Walcot said it was a man with two staves: it was my master." It seems, that, after the proceedings against Burroughs were over, a meeting of "the circle" took place in the[ii.167] evening, at Deacon Ingersoll's, at which there was a repetition of the actings of the girls; and that Mary Walcot suggested to Churchill to accuse her master. This shows the way in which the delusion was kept up. Probably, such meetings were held at one house or another in the village, and fresh accusations brought forward, continually. Jacobs appealed to the magistrates, trying to recall them to a sense of fairness. "Pray, do not accuse me: I am as clear as your worships. You must do right judgment." Sarah Churchill charged him with having hurt her; and the magistrates, pushing her on to make further charges, said to her, "Did he not appear on the other side of the river, and hurt you? Did not you see him?" She answered, "Yes, he did." Then, turning to him, the magistrates said, "There, she accuseth you to your face: she chargeth you that you hurt her twice."—"It is not true. What would you have me say? I never wronged no man in word nor deed."—"Is it no harm to afflict these?"—"I never did it."—"But how comes it to be in your appearance?"—"The Devil can take any likeness."—"Not without their consent." Jacobs rejected the imputation. "You tax me for a wizard: you may as well tax me for a buzzard. I have done no harm." Churchill said, "I know you lived a wicked life." Jacobs, turning to the magistrates, said, "Let her make it out." The magistrates asked her, "Doth he ever pray in his family?" She replied, "Not unless by himself." The magistrates, addressing him: "Why do you not pray in your family?"—"I cannot[ii.168] read."—"Well, but you may pray for all that. Can you say the Lord's Prayer? Let us hear you." The reporter, Mr. Parris, says, "He missed in several parts of it, and could not repeat it right after many trials." The magistrates, addressing her, said, "Were you not frighted, Sarah Churchill, when the representation of your master came to you?"—"Yes." Jacobs exclaimed, "Well, burn me or hang me, I will stand in the truth of Christ: I know nothing of it." In answer to an inquiry from the magistrates, he denied having done any thing to get his son George or grand-daughter Margaret to "sign the book."

George Jacobs, Sr., was an old man. The evidence describes him as "very gray-headed," and he must have been quite weak since he walked with two[ii.166] staffs. His hair was long, thin, and white; and since he was unusually tall, he must have had an impressive appearance. Perhaps he was the "man in a long-crowned white hat" mentioned by Deliverance Hobbs. The examination showed that his mind was sharp, his demeanor fearless, and his statements strong and assertive. The magistrates began: "Here are those who accuse you of witchcraft."—"Well, let's hear who they are and what they have to say." When Abigail Williams testified against him, likely going through her usual performance, he couldn't help but laugh in contempt for the entire situation, explaining, "Because I am falsely accused—do you all believe this is true?" They replied, "No: what do you think?" "I never did it."—"Who did it?"—"Don't ask me." The magistrates assumed that the claims and suffering of the girls were genuine and placed the burden of explanation on the accused. They continued: "Why shouldn't we ask you? Sarah Churchill accuses you. There she is." Jacobs believed it was not his responsibility to explain the girls' actions but for the accusers to prove his guilt. "If you can prove that I am guilty, I will accept it." Then Sarah Churchill, who worked in his household, said, "Last night, I was afflicted at Deacon Ingersoll's; and Mary Walcot said it was a man with two staves: it was my master." It seems that after the proceedings against Burroughs were over, a meeting of "the circle" occurred in the[ii.167] evening at Deacon Ingersoll's, where the girls repeated their performances; and Mary Walcot suggested to Churchill that she accuse her master. This illustrates how the delusion persisted. Probably, such gatherings took place at different houses in the village, continually bringing forth new accusations. Jacobs appealed to the magistrates, trying to remind them to be fair. "Please, do not accuse me: I am as innocent as you are. You must make a just judgment." Sarah Churchill claimed he had harmed her; and the magistrates, encouraging her to make further accusations, asked her, "Did he not appear on the other side of the river and hurt you? Did you not see him?" She answered, "Yes, he did." Then, turning to him, the magistrates said, "There she accuses you to your face: she charges you with hurting her twice."—"That's not true. What do you want me to say? I never wronged any man in word or deed."—"Isn't it harmful to afflict these?"—"I never did it."—"But how is it that you appear in this?"—"The Devil can take any form."—"Not without their consent." Jacobs dismissed the accusation. "You accuse me of being a wizard: you might as well accuse me of being a buzzard. I have done no harm." Churchill said, "I know you lived a wicked life." Jacobs turned to the magistrates, saying, "Let her prove it." The magistrates asked her, "Does he ever pray in his family?" She replied, "Not unless by himself." The magistrates addressed him: "Why do you not pray in your family?"—"I cannot[ii.168] read."—"Well, you can still pray. Can you say the Lord's Prayer? Let's hear it." The reporter, Mr. Parris, noted, "He stumbled on several parts and could not recite it correctly after many attempts." The magistrates asked her, "Were you not scared, Sarah Churchill, when your master's image appeared to you?"—"Yes." Jacobs exclaimed, "Well, burn me or hang me, I will stand in the truth of Christ: I know nothing about it." In response to a question from the magistrates, he denied having done anything to get his son George or granddaughter Margaret to "sign the book."

The appearance of the old man, his intrepid bearing, and the stamp of conscious innocence on all he said, probably produced some impression on the magistrates, as they did not come to any decision, but adjourned the examination to the next day. The girls then came down from the village in full force, determined to put him through. When he was brought in, they accordingly, all at once, "fell into the most grievous fits and screechings." When they sufficiently came to, the magistrates turned to the girls: "Is this the man that hurts you?" They severally answered,—Abigail Williams: "This is the man," and fell into a violent fit. Ann Putnam: "This is the man. He hurts me, and brings the book to me, and would have me write in the book, and said, if I would write in it, I should be as well as his grand-daughter." Mercy Lewis, after much interruptions by fits: "This is the man: he almost kills me." Elizabeth Hubbard: "He[ii.169] never hurt me till to-day, when he came upon the table." Mary Walcot, after much interruption by fits: "This is the man: he used to come with two staves, and beat me with one of them." After all this, the magistrates, thinking he could deny it no longer, turn to him, "What do you say? Are you not a witch?" "No: I know it not, if I were to die presently." Mercy Lewis advanced towards him, but, as soon as she got near, "fell into great fits."—"What do you say to this?" cried the magistrates. "Why, it is false. I know not of it any more than the child that was born to-night." The reporter says, "Ann Putnam and Abigail Williams had each of them a pin stuck in their hands, and they said it was this old Jacobs." He was committed to prison.

The old man’s appearance, his fearless demeanor, and the look of genuine innocence in everything he said likely made an impression on the judges, which is why they didn’t reach a decision and postponed the hearing until the next day. The girls then came down from the village in full force, ready to confront him. When he was brought in, they all suddenly "fell into the most terrible fits and screaming." Once they calmed down, the judges asked the girls: "Is this the man who harmed you?" They each responded—Abigail Williams: "This is the man," and then she fell into a violent fit. Ann Putnam: "This is the man. He hurts me, brings a book to me, and wants me to write in it, saying that if I did, I would be as well as his granddaughter." Mercy Lewis, interrupted by fits: "This is the man: he nearly kills me." Elizabeth Hubbard: "He never hurt me until today when he came upon the table." Mary Walcot, also interrupted by fits: "This is the man: he used to come with two sticks and beat me with one of them." After all this, the judges, believing he could no longer deny it, turned to him, "What do you say? Are you not a witch?" "No: I don’t know it, even if I were to die right now." Mercy Lewis stepped toward him, but as soon as she got close, "fell into severe fits."—"What do you say to this?" yelled the judges. "Well, it’s false. I know nothing of it, any more than the child that was born tonight." The reporter noted, "Ann Putnam and Abigail Williams each had a pin stuck in their hands, and they said it was this old Jacobs." He was taken into custody.

The following piece of evidence is among the loose papers on file in the clerk's office:—

The following piece of evidence is one of the loose papers in the clerk's office file:—

"The Deposition of Sarah Ingersoll, aged about thirty years.—Saith, that, seeing Sarah Churchill after her examination, she came to me crying and wringing her hands, seemingly to be much troubled in spirit. I asked her what she ailed. She answered, she had undone herself. I asked her in what. She said, in belying herself and others in saying she had set her hand to the Devil's book, whereas, she said, she never did. I told her I believed she had set her hand to the book. She answered, crying, and said, 'No, no, no: I never, I never did.' I asked her then what made her say she did. She answered, because they threatened her, and told her they would put her into the dungeon, and put her along with Mr. Burroughs; and thus[ii.170] several times she followed me up and down, telling me that she had undone herself, in belying herself and others. I asked her why she did not deny she wrote it. She told me, because she had stood out so long in it, that now she durst not. She said also, that, if she told Mr. Noyes but once she had set her hand to the book, he would believe her; but, if she told the truth, and said she had not set her hand to the book a hundred times, he would not believe her.

The Deposition of Sarah Ingersoll, about thirty years old.—She said that after seeing Sarah Churchill following her examination, Sarah came to me crying and wringing her hands, clearly very upset. I asked her what was wrong. She replied that she had ruined herself. I asked her how. She said it was by lying about herself and others, claiming she had signed the Devil's book, when she insisted she never did. I told her I believed she had signed the book. She cried and said, 'No, no, no: I never, I never did.' I then asked her what made her say she did. She explained that they threatened her, saying they would throw her in the dungeon and place her with Mr. Burroughs; and so[ii.170] several times, she followed me around, telling me she had ruined herself by lying about herself and others. I asked her why she didn’t just deny writing it. She told me it was because she had resisted for so long that now she could not. She also said that if she told Mr. Noyes just once that she had signed the book, he would believe her; but if she told the truth and said she had not signed it a hundred times, he would not believe her.

"Sarah Ingersoll."

"Sarah Ingersoll."

This paper has also the signature of "Ann Andrews."

This paper also has the signature of "Ann Andrews."

This incident probably occurred during the examination of George Jacobs; and the bitter compunction of Churchill was in consequence of the false and malignant course she had been pursuing against her old master. It is a relief to our feelings, so far as she is regarded, to suppose so. Bad as her conduct was as one of the accusers, on other occasions after I am sorry to say as well as before, it shows that she was not entirely dead to humanity, but realized the iniquity of which she had been guilty towards him. It is the only instance of which we find notice of any such a remnant of conscience showing itself, at the time, among those perverted and depraved young persons. The reason, why it is probable that this exhibition of Churchill's penitential tears and agonies of remorse occurred immediately after the first day of Jacobs's examination, is this. It was one of the first, if not the first, held at the house of Thomas Beadle. Sarah Ingersoll would not have been likely to have fallen in[ii.171] with her elsewhere. It is evident, from the tenor and purport of the document, that the deponent was not entirely carried away by the prevalent delusion, and probably did not follow up the proceedings generally. But it was quite natural that her attention should have been called to proceedings of interest at Beadle's house, particularly on that first occasion. She lived in the immediate vicinity. The indorsement by Ann Andrews, the daughter of Jacobs, increases the probability that the occurrence was at his examination.

This incident likely took place during George Jacobs's examination; and Churchill's deep remorse was a result of the cruel and spiteful actions she had taken against her former master. It eases our feelings regarding her to think this way. Although her behavior as one of the accusers was terrible, both at that time and previously, it indicates that she wasn’t completely devoid of humanity and recognized the wrong she had committed towards him. This is the only instance where we see any sign of conscience appearing among those misguided and corrupt individuals at that time. The reason it’s probable that Churchill's tears of regret and intense feelings of guilt occurred right after the first day of Jacobs's examination is that it was one of the first, if not the first, held at Thomas Beadle's house. Sarah Ingersoll likely wouldn’t have encountered her anywhere else. It’s clear from the content of the document that the witness wasn’t completely swept up by the widespread delusion and probably didn’t follow the proceedings closely overall. However, it was only natural for her to pay attention to significant events at Beadle's house, especially on that initial occasion since she lived nearby. The endorsement by Ann Andrews, Jacobs's daughter, makes it more likely that the event happened during his examination.

The representatives of the family of John Ingersoll,—a brother of Deacon Nathaniel Ingersoll,—in 1692, occupied a series of houses on the west side of Daniels Street, leading from Essex Street to the harbor. The widow of John's son Nathaniel lived at the corner of Essex and Daniels Streets; the next in order was the widow of his son John; the next, his daughter Ruth, wife of Richard Rose; the next, the widow of his son Richard; the last, his son Samuel, whose house lot extended to the water. Sarah, the witness in this case, was the wife of Samuel, and afterwards became the second wife of Philip English. One of her children appears to have married a son of Beadle. Their immediate proximity to the Beadle house, and consequent intimacy with his family, led them to become conversant with what occurred there; and Sarah Ingersoll was, in that way, likely to meet Churchill, and to have the conversation with her to which she deposes.

The family representatives of John Ingersoll—a brother of Deacon Nathaniel Ingersoll—in 1692 lived in a row of houses on the west side of Daniels Street, which ran from Essex Street to the harbor. Nathaniel's widow lived at the corner of Essex and Daniels Streets; next was the widow of his son John; following her was his daughter Ruth, who was married to Richard Rose; then came the widow of his son Richard; and finally his son Samuel, whose property went right up to the water. Sarah, the witness in this case, was Samuel's wife and later became Philip English's second wife. One of her children seems to have married a son of Beadle. Their close proximity to the Beadle house and their ongoing relationship with his family allowed them to learn about what was happening there; thus, Sarah Ingersoll was likely to have met Churchill and have the conversation she testified about.

This brief deposition of Sarah Ingersoll is, in many particulars, an important and instructive paper. It[ii.172] exhibits incidentally the means employed to keep the accusing girls and confessing witnesses from falling back, and, by overawing them, to prevent their acknowledging the falseness of their testimony. It shows how difficult it was to obtain a hearing, if they were disposed to recant. It presents Mr. Noyes—as all along there is too much evidence compelling us to admit—acting a part as bad as that of Parris; and it discloses the fact, that Mr. Burroughs, although not yet brought to trial, was immured in a dungeon.

This brief statement from Sarah Ingersoll is, in many ways, an important and insightful document. It[ii.172] shows, incidentally, the tactics used to keep the accusing girls and confessing witnesses from backing down, and how they were intimidated into not admitting their testimony was false. It demonstrates how difficult it was to get a fair hearing if they wanted to take back their statements. It depicts Mr. Noyes—as there is too much evidence for us to ignore—playing a role as bad as Parris; and it reveals that Mr. Burroughs, even though he had not yet gone to trial, was locked up in a dungeon.

No papers are on file, or have been obtained, in reference to the examination of Margaret Jacobs, which was at the same time and place with that of her grandfather. We shall hear of her in subsequent stages of the transaction.

No documents are on file or have been collected regarding the examination of Margaret Jacobs, which took place at the same time and place as her grandfather's. We will hear about her in later phases of the proceedings.

On the same day—May 10—that George and Margaret Jacobs were apprehended and examined, a warrant was issued against John Willard, "husbandman," to be brought to Thomas Beadle's house in Salem. On the 12th, John Putnam, Jr., constable, made return that he had been to "the house of the usual abode of John Willard, and made search for him, and in several other houses and places, but could not find him;" and that "his relations and friends" said, "that, to their best knowledge, he was fled." On the 15th, a warrant was issued to the marshal of Essex, and the constables of Salem, "or any other marshal, or marshal's constable or constables within this their majesty's colony or territory of the Massachusetts, in New England," requiring them to apprehend said Willard, "if he may be found[ii.173] in your precincts, who stands charged with sundry acts of witchcraft, by him done or committed on the bodies of Bray Wilkins, and Samuel Wilkins, the son of Henry Wilkins," and others, upon complaint made "by Thomas Fuller, Jr., and Benjamin Wilkins, Sr., yeomen; who, being found, you are to convey from town to town, from constable to constable, ... to be prosecuted according to the direction of Constable John Putnam, of Salem Village, who goes with the same." On the 18th of May, Constable Putnam brought in Willard, and delivered him to the magistrates. He was seized in Groton. There is no record of his examination; but we gather, from the papers on file, the following facts relating to this interesting case:—

On the same day—May 10—that George and Margaret Jacobs were arrested and questioned, a warrant was issued for John Willard, a farmer, to be taken to Thomas Beadle's house in Salem. On the 12th, John Putnam, Jr., the constable, reported that he had gone to Willard’s usual residence and searched for him, as well as in several other homes and places, but couldn’t find him; and that his relatives and friends said that, to the best of their knowledge, he had fled. On the 15th, a warrant was issued to the marshal of Essex and the constables of Salem, or any other marshal or constables within their majesty's colony or territory of Massachusetts in New England, instructing them to apprehend Willard, if he could be found in their areas. He was charged with multiple acts of witchcraft against Bray Wilkins, Samuel Wilkins (son of Henry Wilkins), and others, based on complaints made by Thomas Fuller, Jr., and Benjamin Wilkins, Sr., both farmers. If he is found, they were to transport him from town to town, from constable to constable, to be prosecuted according to the direction of Constable John Putnam from Salem Village, who would accompany him. On May 18, Constable Putnam brought Willard in and handed him over to the magistrates. He was caught in Groton. There is no record of his examination; however, we can infer from the documents on file some details regarding this intriguing case:—

It is said that Willard had been called upon to aid in the arrest, custody, and bringing-in of persons accused, acting as a deputy-constable; and, from his observation of the deportment of the prisoners, and from all he heard and saw, his sympathies became excited in their behalf: and he expressed, in more or less unguarded terms, his disapprobation of the proceedings. He seems to have considered all hands concerned in the business—accusers, accused, magistrates, and people—as alike bewitched. One of the witnesses against him deposed, that he said, in a "discourse" at the house of a relative, "Hang them: they are all witches." In consequence of this kind of talk, in which he indulged as early as April, he incurred the ill-will of the parties engaged in the prose[ii.174]cutions; and it was whispered about that he was himself in the diabolical confederacy. He was a grandson of Bray Wilkins; and the mind of the old man became prejudiced against him, and most of his family connections and neighbors partook of the feeling. When Willard discovered that such rumors were in circulation against him, he went to his grandfather for counsel and the aid of his prayers. He met with a cold reception, as appears by the deposition of the old man as follows:—

It is said that Willard was called to help with the arrest, custody, and bringing in of people who were accused, acting as a deputy constable. From watching the behavior of the prisoners and from everything he heard and saw, he became sympathetic towards them, expressing, sometimes openly, his disapproval of the proceedings. He seemed to think that everyone involved—those accusing, the accused, magistrates, and onlookers—was equally caught up in some kind of madness. One of the witnesses against him testified that he stated during a conversation at a relative's house, "Hang them: they are all witches." Because of this kind of talk, which he was engaged in as early as April, he earned the resentment of those involved in the prosecutions, leading to whispers that he was part of the evil conspiracy. He was a grandson of Bray Wilkins; the old man's opinion turned against him, and most of his family and neighbors shared this sentiment. When Willard learned of the rumors circulating about him, he went to his grandfather for advice and requested his prayers. He received a cold reception, as indicated by the old man’s deposition as follows:—

"When John Willard was first complained of by the afflicted persons for afflicting of them, he came to my house, greatly troubled, desiring me, with some other neighbors, to pray for him. I told him I was then going from home, and could not stay; but, if I could come home before night, I should not be unwilling. But it was near night before I came home, and so I did not answer his desire; but I heard no more of him upon that account. Whether my not answering his desire did not offend him, I cannot tell; but I was jealous, afterwards, that it did."

"When John Willard was first accused by the people who were affected for hurting them, he came to my house, really upset, asking me and some other neighbors to pray for him. I told him I was leaving home and couldn’t stay, but if I got back before night, I would be happy to help. However, it was almost night by the time I returned home, so I didn’t fulfill his request; after that, I didn’t hear anything more about it. I can’t say if my not responding to his request upset him, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that it might have."

Willard soon after made an engagement to go to Boston, on election-week, with Henry Wilkins, Jr. A son of said Henry Wilkins, named Daniel,—a youth of seventeen years of age, who had heard the stories against Willard, and believed them all, remonstrated with his father against going to Boston with Willard, and seemed much distressed at the thought, saying, among other things, "It were well if the said Willard were hanged."

Willard soon made plans to go to Boston during election week with Henry Wilkins, Jr. Henry's son, Daniel—a seventeen-year-old who had heard the negative stories about Willard and believed them all—protested to his father about going to Boston with Willard and appeared quite upset by the idea, saying among other things, "It would be better if Willard were hanged."

Old Bray Wilkins must go to election too; and so[ii.175] started off on horseback,—the only mode of travel then practicable from Will's Hill to Winnesimit Ferry,—with his wife on a pillion behind him. He was eighty-two years of age, and she probably not much less; for she had been the wife of his youth. The old couple undoubtedly had an active time that week in Boston. It was a great occasion, and the whole country flocked in to partake in the ceremonies and services of the anniversary. On Election-day, with his wife, he rode out to Dorchester, to dine at the house of his "brother, Lieutenant Richard Way." Deodat Lawson and his new wife, and several more, joined them at table. Before sitting down, Henry Wilkins and John Willard also came in. Willard, perhaps, did not feel very agreeably towards his grandfather, at the time, for having shown an unwillingness to pray with him. The old man either saw, or imagined he saw, a very unpleasant expression in Willard's countenance. "To my apprehension, he looked after such a sort upon me as I never before discerned in any." The long and hard travel, the fatigues and excitements of election-week, were too much for the old man, tough and rugged as he was; and a severe attack of a complaint, to which persons of his age are often subject, came on. He experienced great sufferings, and, as he expressed it, "was like a man on a rack."

Old Bray Wilkins had to go to the election too; so[ii.175] he set off on horseback—the only way to travel from Will's Hill to Winnesimit Ferry back then—with his wife sitting on a pillion behind him. He was eighty-two years old, and she was probably not much younger, having been his wife since his youth. The elderly couple definitely had a busy week in Boston. It was a big event, and people from all over the country came to take part in the anniversary celebrations. On Election Day, he and his wife rode out to Dorchester to have dinner at his "brother, Lieutenant Richard Way's" house. Deodat Lawson and his new wife, along with several others, joined them for the meal. Before they sat down, Henry Wilkins and John Willard also arrived. Willard might not have felt very good towards his grandfather at that moment because he had been unwilling to pray with him. The old man either noticed or thought he noticed a very unpleasant look on Willard's face. "To my understanding, he looked at me in a way I had never seen before." The long and tiring travel, along with the stresses of election week, were too much for the old man, tough as he was; and he suffered a severe attack of a condition common for people his age. He experienced great pain, and, as he put it, "was like a man on a rack."

"I told my wife immediately that I was afraid that Willard had done me wrong; my pain continuing, and finding no relief, my jealousy continued. Mr. Lawson and others there were all amazed, and knew not what to do for me. There was[ii.176] a woman accounted skilful came hoping to help me, and after she had used means, she asked me whether none of those evil persons had done me damage. I said, I could not say they had, but I was sore afraid they had. She answered, she did fear so too.... As near as I remember. I lay in this case three or four days at Boston, and afterward, with the jeopardy of my life (as I thought), I came home."

"I told my wife right away that I was worried Willard had wronged me; my pain kept going, and with no relief, my jealousy grew. Mr. Lawson and the others there were all stunned and didn't know how to help me. There was[ii.176] a woman who was said to be skilled and came hoping to assist me, and after she tried some remedies, she asked me if any of those awful people had hurt me. I said I couldn't say they had, but I was really afraid they had. She replied that she feared so too.... As far as I remember, I stayed in this situation for three or four days in Boston, and afterward, thinking my life was in danger, I came home."

On his return, he found his grandson, the same Daniel who had warned Henry Wilkins against going to Boston with John Willard, on his death-bed, in great suffering. Another attack of his own malady came on. There was great consternation in the neighborhood, and throughout the village. The Devil and his confederates, it was thought, were making an awful onslaught upon the people at Will's Hill. Parris and others rushed to the scene. Mercy Lewis and Mary Walcot were carried up to tell who it was that was bewitching old Bray, and young Daniel, and others of the Wilkinses who had caught the contagion, and were experiencing or imagining all sorts of bodily ails. They were taken to the room where Daniel was approaching his death-agonies; and they both affirmed, that they saw the spectres of old Mrs. Buckley and John Willard "upon his throat and upon his breast, and pressed him and choked him;" and the cruel operation, they insisted upon it, continued until the boy died. The girls were carried to the bedroom of the old man, who was in great suffering; and, when they entered, the question was put by the anxious and excited friends in the chamber to Mercy Lewis, whether[ii.177] she saw any thing. She said, "Yes: they are looking for John Willard." Presently she pretended to have caught sight of his apparition, and exclaimed, "There he is upon his grandfather's belly." This was thought wonderful indeed; for, as the old man says in a deposition he drew up afterwards, "At that time I was in grievous pain in the small of my belly."

On his return, he found his grandson, the same Daniel who had warned Henry Wilkins against going to Boston with John Willard, on his deathbed, in extreme pain. Another episode of his own illness hit him. There was widespread panic in the neighborhood and throughout the village. People believed that the Devil and his allies were launching a terrible attack on the residents of Will's Hill. Parris and others rushed to the scene. Mercy Lewis and Mary Walcot were brought in to identify who was bewitching old Bray, young Daniel, and other members of the Wilkins family, who had fallen ill and were experiencing or imagining various physical ailments. They were taken to the room where Daniel was nearing his death; both girls claimed they saw the spirits of old Mrs. Buckley and John Willard "on his throat and on his chest, and they pressed him and choked him," insisting that this cruel act continued until the boy died. The girls were then taken to the bedroom of the old man, who was in great pain, and when they entered, the worried and agitated friends in the room asked Mercy Lewis if she saw anything. She replied, "Yes: they are looking for John Willard." Soon, she pretended to see his ghost and exclaimed, "There he is on his grandfather's belly." This was seen as quite extraordinary; as the old man stated in a deposition he wrote later, "At that time I was in severe pain in the lower part of my belly."

Mrs. Ann Putnam had her story to tell about John Willard. Its substance is seen in a deposition drawn up about the time, and is in the same vein as her testimony in other cases; presenting a problem to be solved by those who can draw the line between semi-insane hallucination and downright fabrication. Her deposition is as follows:—

Mrs. Ann Putnam had her story to share about John Willard. Its main points are found in a deposition written around that time, and it reflects the same themes as her testimonies in other cases; it poses a challenge for those who can distinguish between semi-insane hallucinations and outright lies. Her deposition is as follows:—

"That the shape of Samuel Fuller and Lydia Wilkins this day told me at my own house by the bedside, who appeared in winding-sheets, that, if I did not go and tell Mr. Hathorne that John Willard had murdered them, they would tear me to pieces. I knew them when they were living, and it was exactly their resemblance and shape. And, at the same time, the apparition of John Willard told me that he had killed Samuel Fuller, Lydia Wilkins, Goody Shaw, and Fuller's second wife, and Aaron Way's child, and Ben Fuller's child; and this deponent's child Sarah, six weeks old; and Philip Knight's child, with the help of William Hobbs; and Jonathan Knight's child and two of Ezekiel Cheever's children with the help of William Hobbs; Anne Eliot and Isaac Nichols with the help of William Hobbs; and that if Mr. Hathorne would not believe them,—that is, Samuel Fuller and Lydia Wilkins,—perhaps they would appear to[ii.178] the magistrates. Joseph Fuller's apparition the same day also came to me, and told me that Goody Corey had killed him. The spectre aforesaid told me, that vengeance, vengeance, was cried by said Fuller. This relation is true.

"Today, the spirits of Samuel Fuller and Lydia Wilkins appeared to me at my own house by my bedside, wrapped in winding sheets. They warned me that if I didn’t go and tell Mr. Hathorne that John Willard had murdered them, they would tear me apart. I recognized them from when they were alive; they looked just like they did back then. At the same time, the ghost of John Willard told me that he had killed Samuel Fuller, Lydia Wilkins, Goody Shaw, Fuller's second wife, Aaron Way's child, Ben Fuller's child, and my own child Sarah, who was just six weeks old; and Philip Knight's child, with help from William Hobbs; and Jonathan Knight's child and two of Ezekiel Cheever's children, also with help from William Hobbs; Anne Eliot and Isaac Nichols with help from William Hobbs; and that if Mr. Hathorne wouldn’t believe Samuel Fuller and Lydia Wilkins, maybe they would appear to the magistrates. Joseph Fuller's ghost also came to me the same day and told me that Goody Corey had killed him. The aforementioned specter told me that vengeance was cried out by Fuller. This account is true."

"Ann Putnam."

"Ann Putnam."

It appears by such papers as are to be found relating to Willard's case, that a coroner's jury was held over the body of Daniel Wilkins, of which Nathaniel Putnam was foreman. It is much to be regretted that the finding of that jury is lost. It would be a real curiosity. That it was very decisive to the point, affirmed by Mercy Lewis and Mary Walcot, that Daniel was choked and strangled by the spectres of John Willard and Goody Buckley, is apparent from the manner in which Bray Wilkins speaks of it. In an argument between him and some persons who were expressing their confidence that John Willard was an innocent man, he sought to relieve himself from responsibility for Willard's conviction by saying, "It was not I, nor my son Benjamin Wilkins, but the testimony of the afflicted persons, and the jury concerning the murder of my grandson, Daniel Wilkins, that would take away his life, if any thing did." Mr. Parris, of course, was in the midst of these proceedings at Will's Hill; attended the visits of the afflicted girls when they went to ascertain who were the witches murdering young Daniel and torturing the old man; was present, no doubt, at the solemn examinations and investigations of the sages who sat as a jury of inquest[ii.179] over the former, and, in all likelihood, made, as usual, a written report of the same. As soon as he got back to his house, he discharged his mind, and indorsed the verdict of the coroner's jury by this characteristic insertion in his church-records: "Dan: Wilkins. Bewitched to death." The very next entry relates to a case of which this obituary line, in Mr. Parris's church-book, is the only intimation that has come down to us, "Daughter to Ann Douglas. By witchcraft, I doubt not." Willard's examination was at Beadle's, on the 18th. With this deluge of accusations and tempest of indignation beating upon him, he had but little chance, and was committed.

It seems that the documents related to Willard's case indicate that a coroner's jury was convened over the body of Daniel Wilkins, with Nathaniel Putnam as the foreman. It's unfortunate that the jury's findings have been lost, as they would have been quite interesting. It's clear that the testimony from Mercy Lewis and Mary Walcot indicated that Daniel was choked and strangled by the spirits of John Willard and Goody Buckley, as noted by Bray Wilkins. During a debate with those who believed John Willard was innocent, he tried to distance himself from responsibility for Willard's conviction by stating, "It wasn’t me or my son Benjamin Wilkins, but the testimonies of the afflicted and the jury about the murder of my grandson, Daniel Wilkins, that would cost him his life, if anything would." Mr. Parris was, of course, deeply involved in these events at Will's Hill, attending to the afflicted girls as they tried to identify the witches responsible for young Daniel's death and the old man's torment. He likely witnessed the serious examinations and inquiries by the wise men acting as the inquest jury[ii.179] over Daniel, and probably wrote a report about it afterward. Once he returned home, he recorded his thoughts and confirmed the coroner's jury's verdict with this notable entry in his church records: "Dan: Wilkins. Bewitched to death." The very next entry references a case that is only noted in Mr. Parris's church book with this obituary statement, "Daughter to Ann Douglas. By witchcraft, I doubt not." Willard's examination took place at Beadle's on the 18th. With all these accusations and the storm of anger surrounding him, he had little chance and was committed.

While the marshals and constables were in pursuit of Willard, the time was well improved by the prosecutors. On the 12th of May, warrants were issued to apprehend, and bring "forthwith" before the magistrates sitting at Beadle's, "Alice Parker, the wife of John Parker of Salem; and Ann Pudeator of Salem, widow." Alice, commonly called Elsie, Parker was the wife of a mariner. We know but little of her. We have a deposition of one woman, Martha Dutch, as follows:—

While the marshals and constables were chasing Willard, the prosecutors made good use of the time. On May 12th, warrants were issued to arrest and bring "immediately" before the magistrates at Beadle's, "Alice Parker, the wife of John Parker of Salem; and Ann Pudeator of Salem, widow." Alice, usually known as Elsie, Parker was the wife of a sailor. We know very little about her. We have a statement from one woman, Martha Dutch, as follows:—

"This deponent testified and saith, that, about two years last past, John Jarman, of Salem, coming in from sea, I (this deponent and Alice Parker, of Salem, both of us standing together) said unto her, 'What a great mercy it was, for to see them come home well; and through mercy,' I said, 'my husband had gone, and come home well, many times.' And I, this deponent, did say unto the said Parker, that 'I[ii.180] did hope he would come home this voyage well also.' And the said Parker made answer unto me, and said, 'No: never more in this world.' The which came to pass as she then told me; for he died abroad, as I certainly hear."

"This witness testified that about two years ago, John Jarman from Salem returned from sea. I (the witness and Alice Parker, also from Salem, standing together) said to her, 'What a great blessing it is to see them come home safely; and by God's grace,' I said, 'my husband has gone and returned safely many times.' I also told Parker that 'I hoped he would return safely from this trip too.' Parker responded, 'No, never again in this world.' Unfortunately, what she said came true; he died while away, as I've heard for sure."

Perhaps Parker had information which had not reached the ears of Dutch, or she may have been prone to take melancholy views of the dangers to which seafaring people are exposed. It was a strange kind of evidence to be admitted against a person in a trial for witchcraft.

Perhaps Parker had information that Dutch hadn’t heard, or she might just have a tendency to see the dangers that seafaring people face in a gloomy light. It was a strange type of evidence to be allowed against someone in a trial for witchcraft.

Samuel Shattuck, who has been mentioned (vol. i. p. 193) in connection with Bridget Bishop, had a long story to tell about Alice Parker. He seems to have been very active in getting up charges of witchcraft against persons in his neighborhood, and on the most absurd and frivolous grounds. Parker had made a friendly call upon his wife; and, not long after, one of his children fell sick, and he undertook to suspect that it was "under an evil hand." In similar circumstances, he took the same grudge against Bridget Bishop. Alice Parker, hearing that he had been circulating suspicions to that effect against her, went to his house to remonstrate; an angry altercation took place between them; and he gave his version of the affair in evidence. There was no one to present the other side. But the whole thing has, not only a one-sided, but an irrelevant character, in no wise bearing upon the point of witchcraft. All the gossip, scandal, and tittle-tattle of the neighborhood for twenty years back, in this case as in others, was[ii.181] raked up, and allowed to be adduced, however utterly remote from the questions belonging to the trial.

Samuel Shattuck, who has been mentioned (vol. i. p. 193) in connection with Bridget Bishop, had a long story to share about Alice Parker. He seems to have been very active in leveling accusations of witchcraft against people in his neighborhood, often for the most ridiculous and flimsy reasons. Parker had paid a friendly visit to his wife; and soon after, one of his children got sick, leading him to suspect that it was due to "evil intentions." He held the same grudge against Bridget Bishop under similar circumstances. Alice Parker, hearing that he had been spreading rumors about her, went to his house to confront him; a heated argument ensued between them, and he presented his version of the incident as evidence. There was no one there to tell her side of the story. But the whole situation is not only one-sided but also irrelevant, not at all related to the issue of witchcraft. All the gossip, rumors, and small talk from the neighborhood over the past twenty years, in this case as in others, was[ii.181] dug up and allowed to be included, no matter how completely unrelated it was to the matters at hand in the trial.

The following singular piece of testimony against Alice Parker may be mentioned. John Westgate was at Samuel Beadle's tavern one night with boon companions; among them John Parker, the husband of Alice. She disapproved of her husband's spending his evenings in such company, and in a bar-room; and felt it necessary to put a stop to it, if she could. Westgate says that she "came into the company, and scolded at and called her husband all to nought; whereupon I, the said deponent, took her husband's part, telling her it was an unbeseeming thing for her to come after him to the tavern, and rail after that rate. With that she came up to me, and called me rogue, and bid me mind my own business, and told me I had better have said nothing." He goes on to state, that, returning home one night some time afterwards, he experienced an awful fright. "Going from the house of Mr. Daniel King, when I came over against John Robinson's house, I heard a great noise; ... and there appeared a black hog running towards me with open mouth, as though he would have devoured me at that instant time." In the extremity of his terror, he tried to run away from the awful monster; but, as might have been expected under the circumstances, he tumbled to the ground. "I fell down upon my hip, and my knife run into my hip up to the haft. When I came home, my knife was in my sheath. When I drew it out of the sheath, then immediately the sheath fell all[ii.182] to pieces." And further this deponent testifieth, that, after he got up from his fall, his stocking and shoe was full of blood, and that he was forced to crawl along by the fence all the way home; and the hog followed him, and never left him till he came home. He further stated that he was accompanied all the way by his "stout dog," which ordinarily was much inclined to attack and "worry hogs," but, on this occasion, "ran away from him, leaping over the fence and crying much." In view of all these things, Westgate concludes his testimony thus: "Which hog I then apprehended was either the Devil or some evil thing, not a real hog; and did then really judge, or determine in my mind, that it was either Goody Parker or by her means and procuring, fearing that she is a witch." The facts were probably these: The sheath was broken by his fall, his skin bruised, and some blood got into his stocking and shoe. The knife was never out of the sheath until he drew it; there was no mystery or witchcraft in it. Nothing was ever more natural than the conduct of the dog. When he saw Westgate frightened out of his wits at nothing, trying to run as for dear life when there was no pursuer, staggering and pitching along in a zigzag direction with very eccentric motions, falling heels over head, and then crawling along, holding himself up by the fence, and all the time looking back with terror, and perhaps attempting to express his consternation, the dog could not tell what to make of it; and ran off, as a dog would be likely to have done, jumping over the fences, barking,[ii.183] and uttering the usual canine ejaculations. Dogs sympathize with their masters, and, if there is a frolic or other acting going on, are fond of joining in it. The whole thing was in consequence of Westgate's not having profited by Alice Parker's rebuke, and discontinued his visits by night to Beadle's bar-room. The only reason why he saw the "black hog with the open mouth," and the dog did not see it, and therefore failed to come to his protection, was because he had been drinking and the dog had not.

The following unique piece of evidence against Alice Parker can be mentioned. John Westgate was at Samuel Beadle's tavern one night with some friends, including John Parker, Alice's husband. She didn't like her husband spending his evenings in such company and in a bar, and felt it was necessary to put a stop to it if she could. Westgate says that she "came into the group, scolded him, and insulted her husband; whereupon I, the said witness, defended her husband, telling her it was inappropriate for her to chase him to the tavern and berate him in that way. At that, she came up to me, called me a rogue, told me to mind my own business, and said I should have kept quiet." He goes on to say that, returning home one night sometime later, he was terrified. "Leaving Mr. Daniel King's house, when I got close to John Robinson's house, I heard a loud noise; ... and there was a black hog rushing towards me with its mouth wide open, as if it meant to devour me right then." In his panic, he tried to run away from the terrifying creature; but, as might be expected in such a situation, he fell to the ground. "I fell on my hip, and my knife ran into my hip up to the handle. When I got home, my knife was still in its sheath. When I pulled it out, the sheath immediately fell apart." He further testified that after getting up from his fall, his stocking and shoe were soaked in blood, and he had to crawl along the fence all the way home; the hog followed him and didn't leave him until he got home. He also stated that he was accompanied all the way by his "brave dog," which usually liked to chase and "attack hogs," but on this occasion, "ran away from him, leaping over the fence and barking loudly." Given all these events, Westgate concluded his testimony with: "I then suspected that hog was either the Devil or some evil spirit, not a real hog; and I truly believed, or decided in my mind, that it was either Goody Parker or something she caused, fearing that she is a witch." The facts were likely these: The sheath broke from his fall, his skin was bruised, and some blood got into his stocking and shoe. The knife was never out of its sheath until he drew it; there was no mystery or witchcraft involved. Nothing was more natural than the dog's behavior. When he saw Westgate terrified out of his mind over nothing, trying to run for his life when there was no one pursuing him, staggering and weaving in a zigzag pattern with odd movements, falling head over heels, and then crawling along, holding onto the fence and looking back in fear, perhaps trying to express his alarm, the dog couldn't make sense of it; and ran off like a dog would, jumping over fences, barking, and making the usual dog sounds. Dogs empathize with their owners, and if there's a commotion or any kind of play going on, they like to join in. The whole thing was a result of Westgate not taking Alice Parker's warning to heart and not stopping his nightly visits to Beadle's bar. The only reason he saw the "black hog with the open mouth," and the dog didn’t see it and therefore failed to come to his aid, was that he had been drinking while the dog had not.

We find among the papers relating to these transactions many other instances of this kind of testimony; sounds heard and sights seen by persons going home at night through woods, after having spent the evening under the bewildering influences of talk about witches, Satan, ghosts, and spectres; sometimes, as in this case, stimulated by other causes of excitement.

We come across many other examples of this type of testimony in the papers related to these events; sounds heard and sights seen by people heading home at night through the woods after spending the evening caught up in conversations about witches, Satan, ghosts, and spirits; sometimes, as in this case, fueled by other sources of excitement.

Perhaps some persons may be curious to know the route by which Westgate made out to reach his home, while pursued by the horrors of that midnight experience. He seems to have frequented Samuel Beadle's bar-room. That old Narragansett soldier owned a lot on the west side of St. Peter's Street, occupying the southern corner of what is now Church Street, which was opened ten years afterwards, that is, in 1702, by the name of Epps's Lane. On that lot his tavern stood. He also owned one-third of an acre at the present corner of Brown and St. Peter's Streets, on which he had a stable and barn; so that his grounds were on both sides of St. Peter's Street,—one parcel on the west,[ii.184] nearly opposite the present front of the church; the other on the east side of St. Peter's Street, opposite the south side of the church. From this locality Westgate started. He probably did not go down Brown Street, for that was then a dark, unfrequented lane, but thought it safest to get into Essex Street. He made his way along that street, passing the Common, the southern side of which, at that time, with the exception of some house-lots on and contiguous to the site of the Franklin Building, bordered on Essex Street. The casualty of his fall; the catastrophe to his hip, stocking, and shoe; and the witchery practised upon his knife and its sheath,—occurred "over against John Robinson's house," which was on the eastern corner of Pleasant and Essex Streets. Christopher Babbage's house, from which he thought the "great noise" came, was next beyond Robinson's. He crawled along the fences and the sides of the houses until he reached the passage-way on the western side of Thomas Beadle's house, and through that managed to get to his own house, which was directly south of said Beadle's lot, between it and the harbor.

Perhaps some people might be curious about the route Westgate took to get home, haunted by the horrors of that midnight experience. He seems to have often visited Samuel Beadle's bar. That old Narragansett soldier owned a lot on the west side of St. Peter's Street, occupying the southern corner of what is now Church Street, which opened ten years later, in 1702, as Epps's Lane. His tavern stood on that lot. He also owned a third of an acre at the corner of Brown and St. Peter's Streets, where he had a stable and barn; so his property was on both sides of St. Peter's Street—one piece on the west, nearly opposite the current front of the church, and the other on the east side of St. Peter's Street, facing the south side of the church. Westgate started from there. He probably didn’t go down Brown Street, as it was a dark, rarely visited lane at the time, and likely thought it safer to head onto Essex Street. He made his way along that street, passing the Common, the southern side of which, at that time, except for some house lots on and adjacent to the site of the Franklin Building, bordered on Essex Street. The incident of his fall; the injury to his hip, stocking, and shoe; and the witchcraft done to his knife and its sheath—occurred "across from John Robinson's house," located at the eastern corner of Pleasant and Essex Streets. Christopher Babbage's house, from which he thought the "great noise" came, was just beyond Robinson's. He crawled along the fences and the sides of the houses until he reached the passageway on the western side of Thomas Beadle's house, and through that, he managed to get to his own house, which was directly south of Beadle's lot, between it and the harbor.

There is one item in reference to Alice Parker, which indicates that the zeal of the prosecutors in her case, as in that of Mr. Burroughs, and perhaps others, was aggravated by a suspicion that she was heretical on some points of the prevalent creed of the day. Parris says that "Mr. Noyes, at the time of her examination, affirmed to her face, that, he being with her at a time of sickness, discoursing with her about[ii.185] witchcraft, whether she were not guilty, she answered, 'if she was as free from other sins as from witchcraft, she would not ask of the Lord mercy.'" The manner of expression in this passage shows that it was thought that there was something very shocking in her answer. Mr. Noyes "affirmed to her face." No doubt it was thought that she denied the doctrine of original and transmitted, or imputed sin.

There’s one detail about Alice Parker that shows the prosecutors were extra eager in her case, similar to Mr. Burroughs and maybe others, likely because they suspected she was heretical on some aspects of the popular beliefs of the time. Parris notes that "Mr. Noyes, during her examination, told her directly that when he was with her during a sickness, discussing [ii.185] witchcraft and asking if she was guilty, she replied, 'If I were as free from other sins as I am from witchcraft, I wouldn’t ask the Lord for mercy.'" The way this is expressed suggests that her response was considered very shocking. Mr. Noyes "told her directly." It was probably believed that she was denying the idea of original or transmitted sin.

Ann Pudeator (pronounced Pud-e-tor) was the widow of Jacob Pudeator, and probably about seventy years of age. The name is spelt variously, and was originally, as it is sometimes found, Poindexter. She was a woman of property, owning two estates on the north line of the Common; that on which she lived comprised what is between Oliver and Winter Streets. She was arrested and brought to examination on the 12th of May. There is ground to conclude, from the tenor of the documents, that she was then discharged. Some people in the town were determined to gratify their spleen against her, and procured her re-arrest. The examination took place on the 2d of July, and she was then committed. The evidence was, if possible, more frivolous and absurd than in other cases. The girls acted their usual parts, giving, on this occasion, a particularly striking exhibition of the transmission of the diabolical virus out of themselves back into the witch by a touch of her body. "Ann Putnam fell into a fit, and said Pudeator was commanded to take her by the wrist, and did; and said Putnam was well presently. Mary Warren fell into two fits quickly, after[ii.186] one another; and both times was helped by said Pudeator's taking her by the wrist."

Ann Pudeator (pronounced Pud-e-tor) was the widow of Jacob Pudeator and was probably around seventy years old. The name has various spellings and was originally, as it sometimes appears, Poindexter. She was a woman of means, owning two properties on the northern edge of the Common; the one where she lived was located between Oliver and Winter Streets. She was arrested and brought in for questioning on May 12. There’s reason to believe, based on the documents, that she was released at that time. However, some people in the town were intent on expressing their anger towards her and arranged for her to be arrested again. The examination took place on July 2, and she was then committed. The evidence presented was even more ridiculous and nonsensical than in other cases. The girls played their typical roles, putting on a particularly dramatic display of the so-called evil influence returning to the witch by touching her. "Ann Putnam fell into a fit and claimed that Pudeator was ordered to take her by the wrist, and he did; then Putnam felt better right away. Mary Warren fell into two fits quickly, one after another; both times, she was helped by Pudeator taking her by the wrist."

When well acted, this must have been one of the most impressive and effective of all the methods employed in these performances. To see a young woman or girl suddenly struck down, speechless, pallid as in death; with muscles rigid, eyeballs fixed or rolled back in their sockets; the stiffened frame either wholly prostrate or drawn up into contorted attitudes and shapes, or vehemently convulsed with racking pains, or dropping with relaxed muscles into a lifeless lump; and to hear dread shrieks of delirious ravings,—must have produced a truly frightful effect upon an excited and deluded assembly. The constables and their assistants would go to the rescue, lift the body of the sufferer, and bear it in their arms towards the prisoner. The magistrates and the crowd, hushed in the deepest silence, would watch with breathless awe the result of the experiment, while the officers slowly approached the accused, who, when they came near, would, in obedience to the order of the magistrates, hold out a hand, and touch the flesh of the afflicted one. Instantly the spasms cease, the eyes open, color returns to the countenance, the limbs resume their position and functions, and life and intelligence are wholly restored. The sufferer comes to herself, walks back, and takes her seat as well as ever. The effect upon the accused person must have been confounding. It is a wonder that it did not oftener break them down. It sometimes did. Poor Deliverance Hobbs, when the[ii.187] process was tried upon her, was wholly overcome, and passed from conscious and calmly asserted innocence to a helpless abandonment of reason, conscience, and herself, exclaiming, "I am amazed! I am amazed!" and assented afterwards to every charge brought against her, and said whatever she was told, or supposed they wished her to say.

When performed well, this must have been one of the most impressive and effective methods used in these performances. To see a young woman or girl suddenly collapse, speechless and pale as if dead; with her muscles stiff, eyes fixed or rolled back in her sockets; her body either completely limp or contorted into strange shapes, or violently convulsing with pain, or collapsing into a lifeless heap; and to hear terrifying screams and delirious ramblings—must have created a truly frightening effect on an excited and misled audience. The constables and their assistants would rush in to help, lifting the victim's body and carrying her towards the prisoner. The magistrates and the crowd, silent and in deep awe, would watch breathlessly as the officers slowly approached the accused, who, upon getting close, would, following the magistrates' orders, extend a hand and touch the afflicted person's skin. Instantly, the spasms would stop, her eyes would open, color would return to her face, her limbs would return to their normal position and function, and life and awareness would be completely restored. The victim would regain her composure, walk back, and take her seat as if nothing had happened. The impact on the accused must have been bewildering. It's surprising it didn’t happen more often. Sometimes it did. Poor Deliverance Hobbs, when the[ii.187] process was used on her, was completely overwhelmed, shifting from calmly asserting her innocence to a helpless abandonment of reason and self, exclaiming, "I am amazed! I am amazed!" and later agreeing to every accusation against her, saying whatever she was told or whatever it seemed they wanted her to say.

On the 14th of May, warrants were issued against Daniel Andrew; George Jacobs, Jr.; his wife, Rebecca Jacobs; Sarah Buckley, wife of William Buckley; and Mary Whittredge, daughter of said Buckley,—all of Salem Village; Elizabeth Hart, wife of Isaac Hart, of Lynn; Thomas Farrar, Sr., also of Lynn; Elizabeth Colson, of Reading; and Bethiah Carter, of Woburn. There is nothing of special interest among the few papers that are on file relating to Hart, Colson, or Carter. The constable made return that he had searched the houses of Daniel Andrew and George Jacobs, Jr., but could not find them. He brought in forthwith the bodies of Sarah Buckley, Mary Whittredge, and Rebecca Jacobs. Farrar and the rest were brought in shortly afterwards.

On May 14th, warrants were issued for Daniel Andrew; George Jacobs Jr.; his wife, Rebecca Jacobs; Sarah Buckley, wife of William Buckley; and Mary Whittredge, daughter of William Buckley—all from Salem Village; Elizabeth Hart, wife of Isaac Hart, from Lynn; Thomas Farrar Sr., also from Lynn; Elizabeth Colson from Reading; and Bethiah Carter from Woburn. There’s nothing particularly interesting among the few documents on file related to Hart, Colson, or Carter. The constable reported that he searched the homes of Daniel Andrew and George Jacobs Jr., but couldn’t find them. He then immediately brought in Sarah Buckley, Mary Whittredge, and Rebecca Jacobs. Farrar and the others were brought in shortly after.

Daniel Andrew was one of the leading men of the village, and the warrant against him was proof that soon none would be too high to be reached by the prosecutors. He felt that it was in vain to attempt to resist their destructive power; and, getting notice in some way of the approach of the constable, with his near neighbor, friend, and connection, George Jacobs,[ii.188] Jr., effected his escape, and found refuge in a foreign country.

Daniel Andrew was one of the prominent figures in the village, and the warrant issued against him showed that no one would be too important to evade the prosecutors. He realized it was pointless to try to fight against their destructive influence; and, after somehow learning about the constable’s approach, he escaped with the help of his close neighbor, friend, and relative, George Jacobs, Jr., and found refuge in another country.[ii.188]

Rebecca, the wife of George Jacobs, Jr., was the victim of a partial derangement. Her daughter Margaret was already in jail. Her husband had escaped by a hurried flight, and his father was in prison awaiting his trial. She was left in a lonely and unprotected condition, in a country but thinly settled, in the midst of woods. The constable came with his warrant for her. She was driven to desperation, and was inclined to resist; but he persuaded her to go with him by holding out the inducement that she would soon be permitted to return. Four young children, one of them an infant, were left in the house; but those who were old enough to walk followed after, crying, endeavoring to overtake her. Some of the neighbors took them into their houses. The imprisonment of a woman in her situation and mental condition was an outrage; but she was kept in irons, as they all were, for eight months. Her mother addressed an humble but earnest and touching petition to the chief-justice of the court at Salem, setting forth her daughter's condition; but it was of no avail. Afterwards, she addressed a similar memorial to "His Excellency Sir William Phips, Knight, Governor, and the Honorable Council sitting at Boston," in the following terms:—

Rebecca, the wife of George Jacobs, Jr., was suffering from a mental breakdown. Her daughter Margaret was already in jail. Her husband had escaped, fleeing quickly, and his father was in prison awaiting trial. She was left alone and unprotected in a sparsely populated area, surrounded by woods. The constable arrived with a warrant for her arrest. She felt desperate and thought about resisting, but he convinced her to go with him by promising she would soon be allowed to return. Four young children, one of them an infant, were left at home; the older ones followed her, crying and trying to catch up. Some neighbors took them in. The imprisonment of a woman in her situation and state of mind was a disgrace, yet she was held in chains, like everyone else, for eight months. Her mother wrote a humble but heartfelt petition to the chief justice of the court in Salem, explaining her daughter's condition, but it was useless. Later, she sent a similar appeal to "His Excellency Sir William Phips, Knight, Governor, and the Honorable Council sitting at Boston," in the following terms:—

"The Humble Petition of Rebecca Fox, of Cambridge, showeth, that, whereas Rebecca Jacobs (daughter of your humble petitioner) has, a long time,—even many months,—now lain in prison for witchcraft, and is well known to be a[ii.189] person crazed, distracted, and broken in mind, your humble petitioner does most humbly and earnestly seek unto Your Excellency and to Your Honors for relief in this case.

"The Humble Petition of Rebecca Fox, of Cambridge, shows that Rebecca Jacobs (the daughter of your humble petitioner) has been in prison for witchcraft for quite a while—many months now—and is widely recognized as a[ii.189] person who is mentally disturbed, confused, and broken. Your humble petitioner sincerely and urgently requests relief from Your Excellency and Your Honors in this matter."

"Your petitioner,—who knows well the condition of her poor daughter,—together with several others of good repute and credit, are ready to offer their oaths, that the said Jacobs is a woman crazed, distracted, and broken in her mind; and that she has been so these twelve years and upwards.

"Your petitioner—who is well aware of her poor daughter's situation—along with several others of good standing and reputation, is prepared to attest under oath that the aforementioned Jacobs is a woman who is mentally unstable, disturbed, and broken; and that she has been this way for twelve years or more."

"However, for (I think) above this half-year, the said Jacobs has lain in prison, and yet remains there, attended with many sore difficulties.

"However, for what I believe is over six months now, the mentioned Jacobs has been in prison and is still there, facing many serious challenges."

"Christianity and nature do each of them oblige your petitioner to be very solicitous in this matter; and, although many weighty cases do exercise your thoughts, yet your petitioner can have no rest in her mind till such time as she has offered this her address on behalf of her daughter.

"Christianity and nature both compel your petitioner to be very concerned about this matter; and, although many important issues occupy your thoughts, your petitioner cannot find peace of mind until she has presented this request on behalf of her daughter."

"Some have died already in prison, and others have been dangerously sick; and how soon others, and, among them, my poor child, by the difficulties of this confinement may be sick and die, God only knows.

"Some have already died in prison, and others have been seriously ill; and how soon others, including my poor child, might get sick and die from the challenges of this confinement, only God knows."

"She is uncapable of making that shift for herself that others can do; and such are her circumstances, on other accounts, that your petitioner, who is her tender mother, has many great sorrows, and almost overcoming burdens, on her mind upon her account; but, in the midst of all her perplexities and troubles (next to supplicating to a good and merciful God), your petitioner has no way for help but to make this her afflicted condition known unto you. So, not doubting but Your Excellency and Your Honors will readily hear the cries and groans of a poor distressed woman, and grant what[ii.190] help and enlargement you may, your petitioner heartily begs God's gracious presence with you; and subscribes herself, in all humble manner, your sorrowful and distressed petitioner,

"She is unable to make the changes for herself that others can; and due to her circumstances, your petitioner, who is her loving mother, carries many heavy sorrows and nearly overwhelming burdens on her mind because of her. But amid all her struggles and troubles (next to praying to a good and merciful God), your petitioner has no way to seek help other than to inform you of her difficult situation. So, without a doubt that Your Excellency and Your Honors will listen to the cries and distress of a poor, troubled woman, and provide what[ii.190] assistance and relief you can, your petitioner sincerely asks for God’s gracious presence with you; and humbly signs herself, your sorrowful and distressed petitioner.

Rebecca Fox."

Rebecca Fox.

No heed was paid to this petition; and the unfortunate woman remained in jail until—after the delusion had passed from the minds of the people—a grand jury found a bill against her, on which she was brought to trial, Jan. 3, 1693, and acquitted. There is no more disgraceful feature in all the proceedings than the long imprisonment of this woman, her being brought to trial, and the obdurate deafness to humanity and reason of the chief-justice, the governor, and the council.

No attention was given to this petition, and the unfortunate woman stayed in jail until—after the public's delusion faded—a grand jury indicted her, leading to her trial on January 3, 1693, where she was acquitted. Nothing is more disgraceful in all these proceedings than the long imprisonment of this woman, her being put on trial, and the stubborn indifference to humanity and reason shown by the chief justice, the governor, and the council.

No papers are found relating to the examination of Thomas Farrar; but the following deposition shows the manner in which prosecutions were got up:—

No documents were found regarding the examination of Thomas Farrar; however, the following testimony illustrates how prosecutions were initiated:—

"The Deposition of Ann Putnam, who testifieth and saith, that, on the 8th of May, 1692, there appeared to me the apparition of an old, gray-headed man, with a great nose, which tortured me, and almost choked me, and urged me to write in his book; and I asked him what was his name, and from whence he came, for I would complain of him; and he told me he came from Lynn, and people do call him 'old Father Pharaoh;' and he said he was my grandfather, for my father used to call him father: but I told him I would not call him grandfather; for he was a wizard, and I would complain of him. And, ever since, he hath afflicted me by times, beating me and pinching me and almost choking me, and urging me continually to write in his book."[ii.191]

"The Testimony of Ann Putnam, who testifies and says that on May 8, 1692, I saw the apparition of an old, gray-haired man with a big nose, who tormented me, almost choked me, and pressured me to write in his book. I asked him what his name was and where he came from because I wanted to report him. He said he came from Lynn, and people call him 'Old Father Pharaoh;' he claimed to be my grandfather since my father used to call him father. But I told him I wouldn’t call him grandfather because he was a wizard, and I intended to report him. Ever since then, he has tormented me at times, hitting me, pinching me, and nearly choking me, and constantly urging me to write in his book."[ii.191]

"We, whose names are underwritten, having been conversant with Ann Putnam, have heard her declare what is above written,—what she said she saw and heard from the apparition of old Pharaoh,—and also have seen her tortures, and perceived her hellish temptations, by her loud outcries, 'I will not write, old Pharaoh,—I will not write in your book.'

We, whose names are signed below, having interacted with Ann Putnam, have heard her state what is written above—what she said she saw and heard from the ghost of old Pharaoh—and we have also witnessed her suffering and recognized her intense struggles, through her loud cries, 'I will not write, old Pharaoh—I will not write in your book.'

Thomas Putnam,
Robert Morrell."

Thomas Putnam,
Robert Morrell.

She had heard this person spoken of as "old Father Pharaoh," with his "great nose;" and, from a mere spirit of mischief,—for the fun of the thing,—cried out upon him. Many of the documents exhibit a levity of spirit among these girls, which show how hardened and reckless they had become. The following depositions are illustrative of this state of mind among them:—

She had heard this person called "old Father Pharaoh," with his "big nose;" and, just for fun out of sheer mischief, she shouted at him. Many of the documents show a carefree attitude among these girls, which indicates how tough and careless they had become. The following statements illustrate this mindset among them:—

"The Deposition of Clement Coldum, aged sixty years, or thereabout.—Saith that, on the 29th of May, 1692, being at Salem Village, carrying home Elizabeth Hubbard from the meeting behind me, she desired me to ride faster. I asked her why. She said the woods were full of devils, and said, 'There!' and 'There they be!' but I could see none. Then I put on my horse; and, after I had ridden a while, she told me I might ride softer, for we had outridden them. I asked her if she was not afraid of the Devil. She answered me, 'No: she could discourse with the Devil as well as with me,' and further saith not. This I am ready to testify on oath, if called thereto, as witness my hand.

"The Testimony of Clement Coldum, about sixty years old.—He says that on May 29, 1692, while at Salem Village, he was bringing Elizabeth Hubbard home from the meeting. She asked him to ride faster. He asked her why, and she said the woods were full of devils, pointing and exclaiming, 'There!' and 'There they are!' but he couldn’t see any. Then he spurred his horse, and after a while, she told him he could slow down because they had outrun them. He asked her if she wasn’t afraid of the Devil. She replied, 'No: I can talk to the Devil just as easily as I can talk to you,' and she didn’t say anything more. This I am ready to testify under oath, if called to do so, as witness my hand."

"Clement Coldum."

"Clement Coldum."

"The Testimony of Daniel Elliot, aged twenty-seven years or thereabouts, who testifieth and saith, that I, being[ii.192] at the house of Lieutenant Ingersoll, on the 28th of March, in the year 1692, there being present one of the afflicted persons, who cried out and said, 'There's Goody Procter.' William Raymond, Jr., being there present, told the girl he believed she lied, for he saw nothing. Then Goody Ingersoll told the girl she told a lie, for there was nothing. Then the girl said she did it for sport,—they must have some sport."

"The Testimony of Daniel Elliot, who is about twenty-seven years old, testifies and says that I, being [ii.192] at Lieutenant Ingersoll's house on March 28, 1692, was present when one of the afflicted individuals shouted, 'There’s Goody Procter.' William Raymond, Jr., who was also there, told the girl he thought she was lying because he saw nothing. Then Goody Ingersoll told the girl she was lying, as there was nothing happening. The girl then said she was doing it for fun—they needed some entertainment."

Sarah Buckley was examined May 18, and her daughter Mary Whittredge probably on the same day. We have Parris's report of the proceedings in reference to the former. The only witnesses against her were the afflicted children. They performed their grand operation of going into fits, and being carried to the accused and subjected to her touch; Ann Putnam, Susanna Sheldon, and Mary Warren enacting the part in succession. Sheldon cried out, "There is the black man whispering in her ear!" The magistrates and all beholders were convinced. She was committed to prison, and remained in irons for eight months before a trial, which resulted in her acquittal. So eminently excellent was the character of Goodwife Buckley, that her arrest and imprisonment led to expressions in her favor as honorable to those who had the courage to utter them as to her. The following certificates were given, previous to her trial, by ministers in the neighborhood:—

Sarah Buckley was examined on May 18, and her daughter Mary Whittredge was probably examined the same day. We have Parris's report about the proceedings regarding Sarah. The only witnesses against her were the afflicted children. They dramatically went into fits and were carried to Sarah to be touched by her; Ann Putnam, Susanna Sheldon, and Mary Warren took turns playing their parts. Sheldon shouted, "There's the black man whispering in her ear!" This convinced the magistrates and everyone watching. She was jailed and kept in chains for eight months before her trial, which ended with her being found not guilty. Goodwife Buckley had such an excellent reputation that her arrest and imprisonment led to people speaking out in her support, and their bravery in doing so was as commendable as her own. The following certificates were given, prior to her trial, by local ministers:—

"These are to certify whom it may or shall concern, that I have known Sarah, the wife of William Buckley, of Salem Village, more or less, ever since she was brought out of[ii.193] England, which is above fifty years ago; and, during all that time, I never knew nor heard of any evil in her carriage, or conversation unbecoming a Christian: likewise, she was bred up by Christian parents all the time she lived here at Ipswich. I further testify, that the said Sarah was admitted as a member into the church of Ipswich above forty years since; and that I never heard from others, or observed by myself, any thing of her that was inconsistent with her profession or unsuitable to Christianity, either in word, deed, or conversation, and am strangely surprised that any person should speak or think of her as one worthy to be suspected of any such crime that she is now charged with. In testimony hereof I have here set my hand this 20th of June, 1692.

"To whom it may concern, I hereby certify that I have known Sarah, the wife of William Buckley from Salem Village, for more than fifty years, ever since she arrived from England. Throughout all this time, I have never seen or heard anything negative about her behavior or conversation that would be unbefitting a Christian. Additionally, she was raised by Christian parents during her time here in Ipswich. I also testify that Sarah was accepted as a member of the Ipswich church over forty years ago, and I have not heard from others, nor have I observed myself, anything about her that contradicts her beliefs or is inappropriate for a Christian, whether in words, actions, or conversation. I am truly surprised that anyone would suspect her of the crimes she is currently accused of. In witness whereof, I set my hand this 20th of June, 1692."

William Hubbard."

William Hubbard.

"Being desired by Goodman Buckley to give my testimony to his wife's conversation before this great calamity befell her, I cannot refuse to bear witness to the truth; viz., that, during the time of her living in Salem for many years in communion with this church, having occasionally frequent converse and discourse with her, I have never observed myself, nor heard from any other, any thing that was unsuitable to a conversation becoming the gospel, and have always looked upon her as a serious, Godly woman.

"Since Goodman Buckley wants me to share my testimony about his wife's conversations before this tragedy occurred, I can't refuse to speak the truth; namely, that during the many years she lived in Salem, being part of this church and having frequent conversations with her, I have never seen anything inappropriate in our discussions, nor have I heard anything from others that would suggest otherwise. I have always viewed her as a sincere, God-fearing woman."

"John Higginson."

"John Higginson."

"Marblehead, Jan. 2, 1692/3.—Upon the same request, having had the like opportunity by her residence many years at Marblehead, I can do no less than give the alike testimony for her pious conversation during her abode in this place and communion with us.

"Marblehead, Jan. 2, 1692/3.—In response to the same request, having had the same opportunity due to her long stay in Marblehead, I can only give a similar testimony for her devout behavior during her time here and her fellowship with us."

Samuel Cheever."

Samuel Cheever.

William Hubbard was the venerable minister of Ipswich, described by Hutchinson as "a man of learning,[ii.194] and of a candid and benevolent mind, accompanied with a good degree of catholicism." He is described by another writer as "a man of singular modesty, learned without ostentation." He will be remembered with honor for his long and devoted service in the Christian ministry, and as the historian of New England and of the Indian wars.

William Hubbard was the respected minister of Ipswich, described by Hutchinson as "a man of learning,[ii.194] with a fair and kind heart, and a good level of open-mindedness." Another writer described him as "a man of exceptional modesty, knowledgeable without showing off." He will be remembered with respect for his lengthy and dedicated service in the Christian ministry, and as the historian of New England and the Indian wars.

John Higginson was worthy of the title of the "Nestor of the New-England clergy." He was at this time seventy-six years old, and had been a preacher of the gospel fifty-five years. For thirty-three years he had been pastor of the First Church in Salem, of which his father was the first preacher. No character, in all our annals, shines with a purer lustre. John Dunton visited him in 1686, and thus speaks of him: "All men look to him as a common father; and old age, for his sake, is a reverend thing. He is eminent for all the graces that adorn a minister. His very presence puts vice out of countenance; his conversation is a glimpse of heaven." The fact, that, while his colleague, Nicholas Noyes, took so active and disastrous a part in the prosecutions, he, at an early stage, discountenanced them, shows that he was a person of discrimination and integrity. That he did not conceal his disapprobation of the proceedings is demonstrated, not only by the tenor of his attestation in behalf of Goodwife Buckley, but by the decisive circumstance that the "afflicted children" cried out against his daughter Anna, the wife of Captain William Dolliver, of Gloucester; got a warrant to apprehend her; and[ii.195] had her brought to the Salem jail, and committed as a witch. They never struck at friends, but were sure to punish all who were suspected to disapprove of the proceedings. How long Mrs. Dolliver remained in prison we are not informed. But it was impossible to break down the influence or independence of Mr. Higginson. It is not improbable that he believed in witchcraft, with all the other divines of his day; but he feared not to bear testimony to personal worth, and could not be brought to co-operate in violence, or fall in with the spirit of persecution. The weight of his character compelled the deference of the most heated zealots, and even Cotton Mather himself was eager to pay him homage. Four years afterwards, he thus writes of him: "This good old man is yet alive; and he that, from a child, knew the Holy Scriptures, does, at those years wherein men use to be twice children, continue preaching them with such a manly, pertinent, and judicious vigor, and with so little decay of his intellectual abilities, as is indeed a matter of just admiration."

John Higginson truly deserved the title of the "Nestor of the New England clergy." At seventy-six years old, he had been preaching the gospel for fifty-five years. For thirty-three years, he served as the pastor of the First Church in Salem, the same church where his father was the first preacher. No one in our history has a more shining character. John Dunton visited him in 1686 and described him as follows: "Everyone sees him as a common father; and old age, because of him, is something to be respected. He stands out for all the qualities that make a great minister. Just his presence makes wrongdoing seem shameful; his conversations feel like a glimpse of heaven." The fact that his colleague, Nicholas Noyes, played such an active and harmful role in the witch trials, while Higginson spoke out against them early on, shows that he was a man of discernment and integrity. His disapproval of the proceedings was clear not only in his testimony on behalf of Goodwife Buckley but also in the telling fact that the "afflicted children" accused his daughter Anna, the wife of Captain William Dolliver from Gloucester; they had a warrant issued for her arrest and[ii.195] had her taken to the Salem jail, where she was locked up as a witch. They never targeted friends but always went after those suspected of opposing the proceedings. We don't know how long Mrs. Dolliver stayed in prison, but it was impossible to undermine Mr. Higginson's influence or independence. It's likely that he believed in witchcraft like many other ministers of his time, but he wasn't afraid to stand up for personal integrity and refused to participate in violence or give in to the spirit of persecution. The strength of his character earned him respect even from the most fervent zealots, and even Cotton Mather was eager to pay him respect. Four years later, he wrote about him: "This good old man is still alive, and he who, from childhood, knew the Holy Scriptures, continues to preach them at an age when most men are like children twice over, with such a strong, relevant, and wise vigor, and with so little decline in his intellectual abilities, that it truly deserves admiration."

Samuel Cheever was a clergyman of the highest standing, and held in universal esteem through a long life.

Samuel Cheever was a highly regarded clergyman who was respected by everyone throughout his long life.

From passages incidentally given, it has appeared that it was quite common, in those times, to attribute accidents, injuries, pains, and diseases of all kinds, to an "evil hand." It was not confined to this locality. When, however, the public mind had become excited to so extraordinary a degree by circumstances con[ii.196]nected with the prosecutions in 1692, this tendency of the popular credulity was very much strengthened. Believing that the sufferer or patient was the victim of the malignity of Satan, and it also being a doctrine of the established belief that he could not act upon human beings or affairs except through the instrumental agency of some other human beings in confederacy with him, the question naturally arose, in every specific instance, Who is the person in this diabolical league, and doing the will of the Devil in this case? Who is the witch? It may well be supposed, that the suffering person, and all surrounding friends, would be most earnest and anxious in pressing this question and seeking its solution. The accusing girls at the village were thought to possess the power to answer it. This gave them great importance, gratified their vanity and pride, and exalted them to the character of prophetesses. They were ready to meet the calls made upon them in this capacity; would be carried to the room of a sick person; and, on entering it, would exclaim, on the first return of pain, or difficulty of respiration, or restless motion of the patient, "There she is!" There is such a one's appearance, choking or otherwise tormenting him or her. If the minds of the accusing girls had been led towards a new victim, his or her name would be used, and a warrant issued for his apprehension. If not, then the name of some one already in confinement would be used on the occasion. It was also a received opinion, that, while ordinary fastenings would not prevent a[ii.197] witch from going abroad, "in her apparition," to any distance to afflict persons, a redoubling of them might. Whenever one of the accusing girls pretended to see the spectres of persons already in jail afflicting any one, orders would forthwith be given to have them more heavily chained. Every once in a while, a wretched prisoner, already suffering from bonds and handcuffs, would be subjected to additional manacles and chains. This was one of the most cruel features in these proceedings. It is illustrated by the following document:—

From the snippets we have, it seems that back then, it was pretty common to blame accidents, injuries, pain, and all sorts of illnesses on an "evil hand." This wasn't just limited to the local area. However, when the public became extremely agitated due to the events surrounding the trials in 1692, this belief was greatly amplified. People thought that the afflicted individual was a victim of Satan's malice, and it was also a widely held belief that Satan could only act on humans and their affairs through the help of other humans in league with him. This naturally led to the question in every specific case: Who is involved in this wicked conspiracy and carrying out the Devil’s work? Who is the witch? It's reasonable to assume that the suffering person, along with their concerned friends, would be very eager and anxious to find answers and solve this mystery. The accusing girls in the village were believed to have the ability to answer this question. This gave them significant importance, boosted their vanity and pride, and elevated them to the status of prophetesses. They were quick to respond when called upon in this role; they would be brought to the room of a sick person and, upon entering, would shout at the first sign of pain, difficulty breathing, or restless movement of the patient, "There she is!" mentioning the name of a specific person as the one causing the affliction. If the accusing girls had set their sights on a new target, they would invoke that person’s name and a warrant would be issued for their arrest. Otherwise, they would use the name of someone already in custody. It was also commonly believed that while regular restraints wouldn't stop a witch from roaming around in “her apparition” to harm others, a doubled amount of restraints might. Whenever one of the accusing girls claimed to see the spirits of incarcerated individuals tormenting someone, immediate orders would be issued to secure those individuals with stronger chains. Time and again, a miserable prisoner, already suffering in shackles, would receive additional cuffs and chains. This aspect was one of the most brutal parts of these proceedings. This is illustrated by the following document:—

"The Deposition of Benjamin Hutchinson, who testifieth and saith, that my wife was much afflicted, presently after the last execution, with violent pains in her head and teeth, and all parts of her body; but, on sabbath day was fortnight in the morning, she being in such excessive misery that she said she believed that she had an evil hand upon her: whereupon I went to Mary Walcot, one of our next neighbors, to come and look to see if she could see anybody upon her; and, as soon as she came into the house, she said that our two next neighbors, Sarah Buckley and Mary Whittredge, were upon my wife. And immediately my wife had ease, and Mary Walcot was tormented. Whereupon I went down to the sheriff, and desired him to take some course with those women, that they might not have such power to torment: and presently he ordered them to be fettered, and, ever since that, my wife has been tolerable well; and I believe, in my heart, that Sarah Buckley and Mary Whittredge have hurt my wife and several others by acts of witchcraft.

"The Testimony of Benjamin Hutchinson, who testifies and says that my wife was greatly afflicted soon after the last execution, experiencing severe pain in her head, teeth, and all over her body. On the Sunday morning two weeks ago, she was in such extreme distress that she said she believed there was an evil influence on her. So, I went to our neighbor, Mary Walcot, to see if she could find anyone affecting her. As soon as she entered the house, she said that our two neighbors, Sarah Buckley and Mary Whittredge, were affecting my wife. Immediately after that, my wife felt relief, and Mary Walcot was tormented. Therefore, I went to the sheriff and asked him to do something about those women so they wouldn’t have the power to torment anymore. He quickly ordered them to be shackled, and since then, my wife has been fairly well. I truly believe that Sarah Buckley and Mary Whittredge have harmed my wife and several others through witchcraft."

"Benjamin Hutchinson owned the above-written evi[ii.198]dence to be the truth, upon oath, before the grand inquest, 15-7, 1692."

"Benjamin Hutchinson swore before the grand jury on July 15, 1692, that the evidence mentioned above is true."

The evidence is quite conclusive, from considerations suggested by the foregoing document, and indications scattered through the papers generally, that all persons committed on the charge of witchcraft were kept heavily ironed, and otherwise strongly fastened. Only a few of the bills of expenses incurred are preserved. Among them we find the following: For mending and putting on Rachel Clenton's fetters; one pair of fetters for John Howard; a pair of fetters each for John Jackson, Sr., and John Jackson, Jr.; eighteen pounds of iron for fetters; for making four pair of iron fetters and two pair of handcuffs, and putting them on the legs and hands of Goodwife Cloyse, Easty, Bromidg, and Green; chains for Sarah Good and Sarah Osburn; shackles for ten prisoners; and one pair of irons for Mary Cox. When we reflect upon the character of the prisoners generally,—many of them delicate and infirm, several venerable for their virtues as well as years,—and that they were kept in this cruelly painful condition from early spring to the middle of the next January, and the larger part to the May of 1693, in the extremes of heat and cold, exposed to the most distressing severities of both, crowded in narrow, dark, and noisome jails under an accumulation of all their discomforts, restraints, privations, exposures, and abominations, our wonder is, not that many of them died, but that all did not break down in body and mind.[ii.199]

The evidence clearly shows, based on the previous document and various details throughout the papers, that everyone accused of witchcraft was kept heavily shackled and securely restrained. Only a few of the expense reports have been kept. Among them, we see the following: costs for repairing and attaching Rachel Clenton's shackles; one pair of shackles for John Howard; one pair for each of John Jackson, Sr. and John Jackson, Jr.; eighteen pounds of iron for shackles; expenses for making four pairs of iron shackles and two pairs of handcuffs and fitting them on Goodwife Cloyse, Easty, Bromidg, and Green; chains for Sarah Good and Sarah Osburn; shackles for ten prisoners; and one pair of irons for Mary Cox. When we think about the conditions of the prisoners—many of whom were frail and sickly, several commendable for their character and age—and that they endured this cruel and painful treatment from early spring until the middle of the following January, with many still suffering into May 1693, facing extreme temperatures and the harsh realities of both, crammed into small, dark, and filthy jails with all their discomforts, restrictions, deprivations, exposure, and horrors, it's astonishing that not more of them died, and that all didn’t completely break down mentally and physically.[ii.199]

Sarah Buckley and her daughter were not brought to trial until after the power of the prosecution to pursue to the death had ceased. They were acquitted in January, 1692. Their goods and chattels had all been seized by the officers, as was the usual practice, at the time of their arrest. In humble circumstances before, it took their last shilling to meet the charges of their imprisonment. They, as all others, were required to provide their own maintenance while in prison; and, after trial and acquittal, were not discharged until all costs were paid. Five pounds had to be raised, to satisfy the claims of the officers of the court and of the jails, for each of them. The result was, the family was utterly impoverished. The poor old woman, with her aged husband, suffered much, there is reason to fear, from absolute want during all the rest of their days. Their truly Christian virtues dignified their poverty, and secured the respect and esteem of all good men. The Rev. Joseph Green has this entry in his diary: "Jan. 2, 1702.—Old William Buckley died this evening. He was at meeting the last sabbath, and died with the cold, I fear, for want of comforts and good tending. Lord forgive! He was about eighty years old. I visited him and prayed with him on Monday, and also the evening before he died. He was very poor; but, I hope, had not his portion in this life." The ejaculation, "Lord forgive!" expresses the deep sense Mr. Green had, of which his whole ministry gave evidence, of the inexpressible sufferings and wrongs brought upon families[ii.200] by the witchcraft prosecutions. The case of Sarah Buckley, her husband and family, was but one of many. The humble, harmless, innocent people who experienced that fearful and pitiless persecution had to drink of as bitter a cup as ever was permitted by an inscrutable Providence to be presented to human lips. In reference to them, we feel as an assurance, what good Mr. Green humbly hoped, that "they had not their portion in this life." Those who went firmly, patiently, and calmly through that great trial without losing love or faith, are crowned with glory and honor.

Sarah Buckley and her daughter weren't put on trial until after the prosecution's ability to seek the death penalty had ended. They were found not guilty in January 1692. All their belongings were seized by the authorities, which was standard practice at the time of their arrest. Having already been in difficult financial circumstances, they spent their last penny to cover the costs of their imprisonment. Like everyone else, they had to provide for their own needs while in jail, and they weren't released after their trial and acquittal until all fees were paid. They had to raise five pounds each to settle the claims of the court officials and the jail, leaving the family completely destitute. The poor old woman and her elderly husband likely suffered greatly from severe poverty for the rest of their lives. Their genuine Christian virtues dignified their situation and earned them the respect and admiration of all good people. Rev. Joseph Green wrote in his diary: "Jan. 2, 1702.—Old William Buckley died this evening. He was at church the last Sunday, and I fear he died of the cold due to lack of comfort and care. Lord forgive! He was about eighty years old. I visited him and prayed with him on Monday, and also the evening before he died. He was very poor; but I hope he did not have his full share of happiness in this life." The phrase "Lord forgive!" reflects the deep concern Mr. Green had, which his entire ministry showed, for the immense suffering and injustices inflicted on families[ii.200] by the witchcraft trials. The situation of Sarah Buckley, her husband, and their family was just one of many. The humble, harmless, innocent people who endured that terrifying and merciless persecution faced a fate as bitter as any ever allowed by an inscrutable Providence to touch human lives. Regarding them, we feel a sense of reassurance in what good Mr. Green modestly hoped, that "they did not have their full share in this life." Those who remained resolute, patient, and calm throughout that great trial without losing love or faith are rewarded with glory and honor.

The examination and commitment of Mary Easty, on the 21st of April, have already been described. For some reason, and in a way of which we have no information, she was discharged from prison on the 18th of May, and wholly released. This seems to have been very distasteful to the accusing girls. They were determined not to let it rest so; and put into operation their utmost energies to get her back to imprisonment. On the 20th of May, Mercy Lewis, being then at the house of John Putnam, Jr., was taken with fits, and experienced tortures of unprecedented severity. The particular circumstances on this occasion, as gathered from various depositions, illustrate very strikingly the skilful manner in which the girls managed to produce the desired effect upon the public mind.

The examination and commitment of Mary Easty on April 21 have already been described. For some reason, which we don't have information about, she was released from prison on May 18 and completely freed. This seems to have upset the accusing girls. They were determined not to let it go, and they put all their effort into getting her back into prison. On May 20, Mercy Lewis, who was at John Putnam Jr.'s house at the time, had fits and experienced extreme agony like never before. The specific details of this event, gathered from various testimonies, clearly show how skillfully the girls managed to create the desired effect on public opinion.

Samuel Abbey, a neighbor, whether sent for or not we are not informed, went to John Putnam's house that morning, about nine o'clock. He found Mercy in[ii.201] a terrible condition, crying out with piteous tones of anguish, "Dear Lord, receive my soul."—"Lord, let them not kill me quite."—"Pray for the salvation of my soul, for they will kill me outright." He was desired to go to Thomas Putnam's house to bring his daughter Ann, "to see if she could see who it was that hurt Mercy Lewis." He found Abigail Williams with Ann, and they accompanied him back to John Putnam's. On the way, they both cried out that they saw the apparition of Goody Easty afflicting Mercy Lewis. When they reached the scene, they exclaimed, "There is Goody Easty and John Willard and Mary Whittredge afflicting the body of Mercy Lewis;" Mercy at the time laboring for breath, and appearing as choked and strangled, convulsed, and apparently at the last gasp. "Thus," says Abbey, "she continued the greatest part of the day, in such tortures as no tongue can express." Mary Walcot was sent for. Upon coming in, she cried out, "There is the apparition of Goody Easty choking Mercy Lewis, pressing upon her breasts with both her hands, and putting a chain about her neck." A message was then despatched for Elizabeth Hubbard. She, too, saw the shape of Goody Easty, "the very same woman that was sent home the other day," aided in her diabolical operations by Willard and Whittredge, "torturing Mercy in a most dreadful manner." Intelligence of the shocking sufferings of Mercy was circulated far and wide, and people hurried to the spot from all directions. Jonathan Putnam, James Darling, Benja[ii.202]min Hutchinson, and Samuel Braybrook reached the house during the evening, and found Mercy "in a case as if death would have quickly followed." Occasionally, Mercy would have a respite; and, at such intervals, Elizabeth Hubbard would fill the gap. "These two fell into fits by turns; the one being well while the other was ill." Each of them continued, all the while, crying out against Goody Easty, uttering in their trances vehement remonstrances against her cruel operations, representing her as bringing their winding-sheets and coffins, and threatening to kill them "if they would not sign to her book." Their acting was so complete that the bystanders seem to have thought that they heard the words of Easty, as well as the responses of the girls; and that they saw the "winding-sheet, coffin," and "the book." In the general consternation, Marshal Herrick was sent for. What he saw, heard, thought, and did, appears from the following:—

Samuel Abbey, a neighbor, whether he was called or not, went to John Putnam's house that morning around nine o'clock. He found Mercy in[ii.201] a terrible state, crying out in distress, "Dear Lord, receive my soul."—"Lord, don't let them kill me completely."—"Pray for the salvation of my soul, because they will kill me for sure." He was asked to go to Thomas Putnam's house to bring his daughter Ann, "to see if she could figure out who harmed Mercy Lewis." He found Abigail Williams with Ann, and they came back to John Putnam's with him. On the way, they both shouted that they saw the ghost of Goody Easty tormenting Mercy Lewis. When they arrived, they exclaimed, "There is Goody Easty and John Willard and Mary Whittredge tormenting Mercy Lewis;" Mercy was struggling to breathe, seeming choked and strangled, convulsing, and apparently on the verge of death. "Thus," says Abbey, "she spent most of the day in such agony that no words can express." Mary Walcot was summoned. Upon entering, she yelled, "There is the ghost of Goody Easty choking Mercy Lewis, pressing down on her chest with both hands, and putting a chain around her neck." A message was then sent for Elizabeth Hubbard. She, too, saw the figure of Goody Easty, "the same woman who was sent home the other day," assisted in her wicked actions by Willard and Whittredge, "torturing Mercy in a horrifying way." News of Mercy's shocking suffering spread quickly, and people rushed to the scene from all directions. Jonathan Putnam, James Darling, Benjamin Hutchinson, and Samuel Braybrook arrived at the house in the evening and found Mercy "in a state as if death would soon follow." Occasionally, Mercy would have a brief break; during these times, Elizabeth Hubbard would take her place. "These two took turns having fits; one would be fine while the other was ill." They both kept crying out against Goody Easty, delivering fervent accusations against her cruel actions, claiming she was bringing their burial shrouds and coffins and threatening to kill them "if they didn't sign her book." Their performance was so convincing that the onlookers seemed to believe they heard Easty's words, as well as the girls' responses, and that they saw the "burial shroud, coffin," and "the book." In the overall panic, Marshal Herrick was called. What he saw, heard, thought, and did is shown in the following:—

"May 20, 1692.—The Testimony of George Herrick, aged thirty-four or thereabouts, and John Putnam, Jr., of Salem Village, aged thirty-five years or thereabouts.—Testifieth and saith, that, being at the house of the above-said John Putnam, both saw Mercy Lewis in a very dreadful and solemn condition, so that to our apprehension she could not continue long in this world without a mitigation of those torments we saw her in, which caused us to expedite a hasty despatch to apprehend Mary Easty, in hopes, if possible, it might save her life; and, returning the same night to said John Putnam's house about midnight,[ii.203] we found the said Mercy Lewis in a dreadful fit, but her reason was then returned. Again she said, 'What! have you brought me the winding-sheet, Goodwife Easty? Well, I had rather go into the winding-sheet than set my hand to the book;' but, after that, her fits were weaker and weaker, but still complaining that she was very sick of her stomach. About break of day, she fell asleep, but still continues extremely sick, and was taken with a dreadful fit just as we left her; so that we perceived life in her, and that was all."

"May 20, 1692.—The Testimony of George Herrick, aged thirty-four or so, and John Putnam Jr., of Salem Village, aged thirty-five or thereabouts.—We testify that, while at John Putnam's house, we both saw Mercy Lewis in a very terrible and serious state, such that we thought she couldn’t stay in this world much longer without relief from her suffering. This prompted us to quickly go after Mary Easty, hoping it might save Mercy’s life. Returning to John Putnam's house around midnight,[ii.203] we found Mercy Lewis in a horrible fit, but she had regained her senses. She said, 'What! Have you brought me the winding-sheet, Goodwife Easty? Well, I'd rather go into the winding-sheet than sign the book;' but after that, her fits became less severe, though she kept complaining of severe stomach sickness. At dawn, she fell asleep but remained very ill and had a terrible fit just as we were leaving her; we could still see that she had life in her, and that was all."

Edward Putnam, after stating that the grievous afflictions and tortures of Mercy Lewis were charged, by her and the other four girls, upon Mary Easty, deposes as follows:—

Edward Putnam, after saying that the severe sufferings and torments of Mercy Lewis were blamed, by her and the other four girls, on Mary Easty, testifies as follows:—

"I myself, being there present with several others, looked for nothing else but present death for almost the space of two days and a night. She was choked almost to death, insomuch we thought sometimes she had been dead; her mouth and teeth shut; and all this very often until such time as we understood Mary Easty was laid in irons."

"I was there with several others, expecting nothing but death for almost two days and a night. She was nearly choked to death, so much that we sometimes thought she was already dead; her mouth was shut, her teeth clenched, and this happened frequently until we found out that Mary Easty was put in chains."

Mercy's fits did not cease immediately upon Easty's being apprehended, but on her being committed to prison and chains by the magistrate in Salem.

Mercy's fits didn’t stop right away when Easty was taken into custody, but they ended when she was sent to prison and locked up by the magistrate in Salem.

An examination of distances, with the map before us, will show the rapidity with which business was despatched on this occasion. Abbey went to John Putnam, Jr.'s house at nine o'clock in the morning of May 20. He was sent to Thomas Putnam's house for Ann, and brought her and Abigail Williams back with him. Mary Walcot was sent for to the house of her father, Captain Jonathan Walcot, and went up at one[ii.204] o'clock, "about an hour by sun." Then Elizabeth Hubbard, who lived at the house of Dr. Griggs, "was carried up to Constable John Putnam's house:" Jonathan Putnam, James Darling, Benjamin Hutchinson, and Samuel Braybrook got there in the evening, as they say, "between eight and eleven o'clock." In the mean time, Marshal Herrick had arrived. Steps were taken to get out a warrant. John Putnam and Benjamin Hutchinson went to Salem to Hathorne for the purpose. They must have started soon after eight. Hathorne issued the warrant forthwith. It is dated May 20. Herrick went with it to the house of Isaac Easty, made the arrest, sent his prisoner to the jail in Salem, and returned himself to John Putnam's house "about midnight;" staid to witness the apparently mortal sufferings of Mercy until "about break of day;" returned to Salem; had the examination before Hathorne, at Thomas Beadle's: the whole thing was finished, Mary Easty in irons, information of the result carried to John Putnam's, and Mercy's agonies ceased that afternoon, as Edward Putnam testifies.

An examination of distances, with the map in front of us, shows how quickly business was handled this time. Abbey went to John Putnam, Jr.'s house at nine o'clock in the morning on May 20. He was sent to Thomas Putnam's house for Ann, brought her and Abigail Williams back with him. Mary Walcot was called to her father, Captain Jonathan Walcot's house, and arrived at one[ii.204] o'clock, "about an hour by sun." Then Elizabeth Hubbard, who lived at Dr. Griggs' house, "was taken to Constable John Putnam's house." Jonathan Putnam, James Darling, Benjamin Hutchinson, and Samuel Braybrook arrived in the evening, they say, "between eight and eleven o'clock." In the meantime, Marshal Herrick had shown up. Steps were taken to issue a warrant. John Putnam and Benjamin Hutchinson went to Salem to see Hathorne for this purpose. They must have left shortly after eight. Hathorne promptly issued the warrant. It’s dated May 20. Herrick took it to Isaac Easty’s house, made the arrest, sent his prisoner to the jail in Salem, and returned to John Putnam's house "around midnight;" stayed to witness Mercy's apparent final sufferings until "about break of day;" returned to Salem; had the examination before Hathorne, at Thomas Beadle's: the whole thing was finished, Mary Easty in chains, information about the result taken to John Putnam's, and Mercy's agony ended that afternoon, as Edward Putnam testified.

I have given this particular account of the circumstances that led to and attended Mary Easty's second arrest, because the papers belonging to the case afford, in some respects, a better insight of the state of things than others, and because they enable us to realize the power which the accusing girls exercised. The continuance of their convulsions and spasms for such a length of time, the large number of persons who witnessed and watched them in the broad daylight, and[ii.205] the perfect success of their operations, show how thoroughly they had become trained in their arts. I have presented the occurrences in the order of time, so that, by estimating the distances traversed and the period within which they took place, an idea can be formed of the vehement earnestness with which men acted in the "hurrying distractions of amazing afflictions" and overwhelming terrors. This instance also gives us a view of the horrible state of things, when any one, however respectable and worthy, was liable, at any moment, to be seized, maligned, and destroyed.

I’ve provided this specific account of the circumstances surrounding Mary Easty’s second arrest because the case documents give a clearer picture of the situation compared to others, and they help us understand the power the accusing girls held. The persistence of their convulsions and spasms for such an extended period, the large number of people who witnessed them in broad daylight, and[ii.205] the complete success of their actions demonstrate how well-trained they had become in their performances. I’ve laid out the events in chronological order so that by considering the distances traveled and the time it took, we can grasp the intense urgency with which people acted in the "hurrying distractions of amazing afflictions" and overwhelming fears. This example also highlights the terrifying nature of the times, where anyone, no matter how respectable or good, could be suddenly accused, slandered, and destroyed.

Mary Easty had previously experienced the malice of the persecutors. For two months she had suffered the miseries of imprisonment, had just been released, and for two days enjoyed the restoration of liberty, the comforts of her home, and a re-union with her family. She and they, no doubt, considered themselves safe from any further outrage. After midnight, she was roused from sleep by the unfeeling marshal, torn from her husband and children, carried back to prison, loaded with chains, and finally consigned to a dreadful and most cruel death. She was an excellent and pious matron. Her husband, referring to the transaction nearly twenty years afterwards, justly expressed what all must feel, that it was "a hellish molestation."

Mary Easty had already faced the cruelty of her persecutors. For two months, she had endured the hardships of imprisonment, had just been released, and had spent two days enjoying her freedom, the comforts of home, and reuniting with her family. She and her family likely thought they were safe from any more attacks. However, after midnight, she was awakened by the heartless marshal, ripped away from her husband and children, dragged back to prison, shackled with chains, and ultimately sentenced to a terrible and cruel death. She was a remarkable and devout woman. Her husband, reflecting on the incident nearly twenty years later, rightly stated what everyone must feel, that it was "a hellish molestation."

One of the most malignant witnesses against Mary Easty was "Goodwife Bibber." She obtruded herself in many of the cases, acting as a sort of outside member of the "accusing circle," volunteering her aid in[ii.206] carrying on the persecutions. It was an outrage for the magistrates or judges to have countenanced such a false defamer. There are, among the papers, documents which show that she ought to have been punished as a calumniator, rather than be called to utter, under oath, lies against respectable people. The following deposition was sworn to in Court:—

One of the most harmful witnesses against Mary Easty was "Goodwife Bibber." She inserted herself into many of the cases, acting as a sort of outside member of the "accusing circle," volunteering her help in[ii.206] continuing the persecutions. It was outrageous for the magistrates or judges to have supported such a false accuser. Among the documents are papers showing that she should have been punished as a slanderer, instead of being called to lie under oath against respectable people. The following deposition was sworn to in Court:—

"The Testimony of Joseph Fowler, who testifieth that Goodman Bibber and his wife lived at my house; and I did observe and take notice that Goodwife Bibber was a woman who was very idle in her calling, and very much given to tattling and tale-bearing, making mischief amongst her neighbors, and very much given to speak bad words, and would call her husband bad names, and was a woman of a very turbulent, unruly spirit."

"The Testimony of Joseph Fowler, who testifies that Mr. Bibber and his wife stayed at my house; and I noticed that Mrs. Bibber was quite lazy in her duties, often gossiping and spreading rumors, causing trouble among her neighbors. She frequently used harsh language and insulted her husband, and she had a very turbulent, unruly spirit."

Joseph Fowler lived in Wenham, and was a person of respectability and influence. His brother Philip was also a leading man; was employed as attorney by the Village Parish in its lawsuit with Mr. Parris; and married a sister of Joseph Herrick. They were the grandsons of the first Philip, who was an early emigrant from Wales, settling in Ipswich, where he had large landed estates. Henry Fowler and his two brothers, now of Danvers, are the descendants of this family: one of them, Augustus, distinguished as a naturalist, especially in the department of ornithology; the other, Samuel Page Fowler, as an explorer of our early annals and local antiquities. In 1692, one of the Fowlers conducted the proceedings in Court[ii.207] against the head and front of the witchcraft prosecution; and the other had the courage, in the most fearful hour of the delusion, to give open testimony in the defence of its victims. It is an interesting circumstance, that one of the same name and descent, in his reprint of the papers of Calef and in other publications, has done as much as any other person of our day to bring that whole transaction under the light of truth and justice.

Joseph Fowler lived in Wenham and was a respected and influential person. His brother Philip was also a prominent figure; he served as the attorney for the Village Parish in its lawsuit against Mr. Parris and married a sister of Joseph Herrick. They were the grandsons of the first Philip, an early emigrant from Wales who settled in Ipswich, where he owned large estates. Henry Fowler and his two brothers, who now live in Danvers, are descendants of this family: one of them, Augustus, is known as a naturalist, particularly in ornithology; the other, Samuel Page Fowler, is recognized for exploring early history and local antiquities. In 1692, one of the Fowlers led the court proceedings against the witchcraft prosecutions, while the other bravely gave public testimony in defense of the accused during the height of the hysteria. Interestingly, a contemporary of the same name and lineage has done more than anyone else to shed light on these events through his reprints of Calef's papers and other publications.

John Porter, who was a grandson of the original John Porter and the original William Dodge and a man of property and family, with his wife Lydia; Thomas Jacobs and Mary his wife; and Richard Walker,—all of Wenham, and for a long time neighbors of this Bibber,—testify, in corroboration of the statement of Fowler, that she was a woman of an unruly, turbulent spirit, double-tongued, much given to tattling and tale-bearing, making mischief amongst her neighbors, very much given to speak bad words, often speaking against one and another, telling lies and uttering malicious wishes against people. It was abundantly proved that she had long been known to be able to fall into fits at any time. One witness said "she would often fall into strange fits when she was crossed of her humor;" and another, "that she could fall into fits as often as she pleased."

John Porter, a grandson of the original John Porter and William Dodge and a man of means and family, along with his wife Lydia; Thomas Jacobs and his wife Mary; and Richard Walker—all from Wenham and long-time neighbors of this Bibber—testify, supporting Fowler's statement that she was a woman with an unruly, tumultuous spirit, two-faced, very prone to gossip and instigating trouble among her neighbors, frequently using harsh words, often speaking ill of others, spreading lies, and expressing malicious wishes against people. It was clearly established that she had a history of being able to have fits at any time. One witness said, "She would often have strange fits when she didn't get her way"; another remarked, "She could have fits whenever she wanted."

On the 21st of May, warrants were issued against the wife of William Basset, of Lynn; Susanna Roots, of Beverly; and Sarah, daughter of John Procter of Salem Farms; a few days after, against Benjamin, a son of[ii.208] said John Procter; Mary Derich, wife of Michael Derich, and daughter of William Basset of Lynn; and the wife of Robert Pease of Salem. Such papers as relate to these persons vary in no particular worthy of notice from those already presented.

On May 21st, warrants were issued for the wife of William Basset from Lynn; Susanna Roots from Beverly; and Sarah, the daughter of John Procter from Salem Farms. A few days later, warrants were issued for Benjamin, a son of[ii.208] John Procter; Mary Derich, the wife of Michael Derich and daughter of William Basset from Lynn; and the wife of Robert Pease from Salem. The documents related to these individuals are not noticeably different from those already presented.

On the 28th of May, warrants were issued against Martha Carrier, of Andover; Elizabeth Fosdick, of Malden; Wilmot Read, of Marblehead; Sarah Rice, of Reading; Elizabeth How, of Topsfield; Captain John Alden, of Boston; William Procter, of Salem Farms; Captain John Flood, of Rumney Marsh; —— Toothaker and her daughter, of Billerica; and ---- Abbot, between Topsfield and Wenham line. On the 30th, a warrant was issued against Elizabeth, wife of Stephen Paine, of Charlestown; on the 4th of June, against Mary, wife of Benjamin Ireson, of Lynn. Besides these, there are notices of complaints made and warrants issued against a great number of people in all parts of the country: Mary Bradbury, of Salisbury; Lydia and Sarah Dustin, of Reading; Ann Sears, of Woburn; Job Tookey, of Beverly; Abigail Somes, of Gloucester; Elizabeth Carey, of Charlestown; Candy, a negro woman; and many others. Some of them have points of interest, demanding particular notice.

On May 28th, warrants were issued for Martha Carrier from Andover; Elizabeth Fosdick from Malden; Wilmot Read from Marblehead; Sarah Rice from Reading; Elizabeth How from Topsfield; Captain John Alden from Boston; William Procter from Salem Farms; Captain John Flood from Rumney Marsh; —— Toothaker and her daughter from Billerica; and ---- Abbot, who lives between Topsfield and Wenham. On May 30th, a warrant was issued for Elizabeth, the wife of Stephen Paine from Charlestown; and on June 4th, against Mary, the wife of Benjamin Ireson from Lynn. In addition to these, there are reports of complaints and warrants issued against many people across the country: Mary Bradbury from Salisbury; Lydia and Sarah Dustin from Reading; Ann Sears from Woburn; Job Tookey from Beverly; Abigail Somes from Gloucester; Elizabeth Carey from Charlestown; Candy, a Black woman; and many others. Some of these cases have interesting details that deserve special attention.

The case of Martha Carrier has some remarkable features. It has been shown, by passages already adduced, that every idle rumor; every thing that the gossip of the credulous or the fertile imaginations of the malignant could produce; every thing, gleaned from the memory or the fancy, that could have an unfavora[ii.209]ble bearing upon an accused person, however foreign or irrelevant it might be to the charge, was allowed to be brought in evidence before the magistrates, and received at the trials. We have seen that a child under five years of age was arrested, and put into prison. Children were not only permitted, but induced, to become witnesses against their parents, and parents against their children. Husbands and wives were made to criminate each other as witnesses in court. When Martha Carrier was arrested, four of her children were also taken into custody. An indictment against one of them is among the papers. Under the terrors brought to bear upon them, they were prevailed on to be confessors. The following shows how these children were trained to tell their story:—

The case of Martha Carrier has some striking features. It has been shown, through previous examples, that every idle rumor; everything that the gossip of the gullible or the vivid imaginations of the malicious could come up with; everything, drawn from memory or fantasy, that could cast a negative light on an accused person, no matter how irrelevant it was to the charges, was allowed to be presented as evidence before the magistrates and accepted during the trials. We have seen that a child under five years old was arrested and sent to prison. Children were not only allowed but encouraged to testify against their parents, and parents against their children. Husbands and wives were made to incriminate each other as witnesses in court. When Martha Carrier was arrested, four of her children were also taken into custody. An indictment against one of them is among the documents. Under the pressures they faced, they were coerced into confessing. The following shows how these children were trained to tell their story:—

"It was asked Sarah Carrier by the magistrates,—

"It was asked Sarah Carrier by the magistrates,—

"How long hast thou been a witch?—Ever since I was six years old.

"How long have you been a witch?—Since I was six years old."

"How old are you now?—Near eight years old: brother Richard says I shall be eight years old in November next.

"How old are you now?—Almost eight years old: my brother Richard says I’ll turn eight in November."

"Who made you a witch?—My mother: she made me set my hand to a book.

"Who turned you into a witch?—My mom: she had me write in a book."

"How did you set your hand to it?—I touched it with my fingers, and the book was red: the paper of it was white.

"How did you start working on it?—I touched it with my fingers, and the book was red: the paper was white."

"She said she never had seen the black man: the place where she did it was in Andrew Foster's pasture, and Elizabeth Johnson, Jr., was there. Being asked who was there besides, she answered, her aunt Toothaker and her cousin.[ii.210] Being asked when it was, she said, when she was baptized.

"She said she had never seen the black man: the spot where it happened was in Andrew Foster's pasture, and Elizabeth Johnson, Jr., was there. When asked who else was there, she replied, her aunt Toothaker and her cousin.[ii.210] When asked when it was, she said it was when she was baptized."

"What did they promise to give you?—A black dog.

"What did they promise to give you?—A black dog."

"Did the dog ever come to you?—No.

"Did the dog ever come to you?—No."

"But you said you saw a cat once: what did that say to you?—It said it would tear me in pieces, if I would not set my hand to the book.

"But you said you saw a cat once: what did that mean to you?—It meant it would rip me apart if I didn't put my hand on the book."

"She said her mother baptized her, and the Devil, or black man, was not there, as she saw; and her mother said, when she baptized her, 'Thou art mine for ever and ever. Amen.'

"She said her mom baptized her, and the Devil, or black man, wasn't there, as she saw; and her mom said, when she baptized her, 'You are mine forever and ever. Amen.'"

"How did you afflict folks?—I pinched them.

"How did you bother people?—I pinched them."

"And she said she had no puppets, but she went to them that she afflicted. Being asked whether she went in her body or her spirit, she said in her spirit. She said her mother carried her thither to afflict.

"And she said she had no puppets, but she went to those she tormented. When asked if she traveled in her body or her spirit, she replied that it was in her spirit. She said her mother took her there to torment."

"How did your mother carry you when she was in prison?—She came like a black cat.

"How did your mom carry you when she was in prison?—She came like a black cat."

"How did you know it was your mother?—The cat told me so, that she was my mother. She said she afflicted Phelps's child last Saturday, and Elizabeth Johnson joined with her to do it. She had a wooden spear, about as long as her finger, of Elizabeth Johnson; and she had it of the Devil. She would not own that she had ever been at the witch-meeting at the village. This is the substance.

"How did you know it was your mom?—The cat told me it was her. It said she hurt Phelps's kid last Saturday, and Elizabeth Johnson helped her do it. She had a wooden spear, about the length of her finger, from Elizabeth Johnson; and she got it from the Devil. She wouldn't admit that she had ever been to the witch meeting in the village. That's the gist of it."

"Simon Willard."

"Simon Willard."

The confession of another of her children is among the papers. It runs thus:—

The confession of another one of her kids is among the documents. It goes like this:—

"Have you been in the Devil's snare?—Yes.

"Have you been in the Devil's snare?—Yes."

"Is your brother Andrew ensnared by the Devil's snare?—Yes.[ii.211]

"Is your brother Andrew caught in the Devil's trap?—Yes.[ii.211]

"How long has your brother been a witch?—Near a month.

"How long has your brother been a witch?"—"Almost a month."

"How long have you been a witch?—Not long.

"How long have you been a witch?" — "Not long."

"Have you joined in afflicting the afflicted persons?—Yes.

"Have you participated in hurting those who are already suffering?—Yes."

"You helped to hurt Timothy Swan, did you?—Yes.

"You helped to hurt Timothy Swan, didn't you?—Yes."

"How long have you been a witch?—About five weeks.

"How long have you been a witch?" — "About five weeks."

"Who was in company when you covenanted with the Devil?—Mrs. Bradbury.

"Who was with you when you made a deal with the Devil?—Mrs. Bradbury."

"Did she help you afflict?—Yes.

"Did she help you hurt?—Yes."

"Who was at the village meeting when you were there?—Goodwife How, Goodwife Nurse, Goodwife Wildes, Procter and his wife, Mrs. Bradbury, and Corey's wife.

"Who was at the village meeting when you were there?—Goodwife How, Goodwife Nurse, Goodwife Wildes, Procter and his wife, Mrs. Bradbury, and Corey's wife."

"What did they do there?—Eat, and drank wine.

"What did they do there?—They ate and drank wine."

"Was there a minister there?—No, not as I know of.

"Was there a minister there?—No, not that I know of."

"From whence had you your wine?—From Salem, I think, it was.

"Where did you get your wine?—I think it was from Salem."

"Goodwife Oliver there?—Yes: I knew her."

"Is Goodwife Oliver there?—Yes: I know her."

In concluding his report of the trial of this wretched woman, whose children were thus made to become the instruments for procuring her death, Dr. Cotton Mather expresses himself in the following language:—

In wrapping up his report on the trial of this unfortunate woman, whose children were used as tools to bring about her death, Dr. Cotton Mather states the following:—

"This rampant hag (Martha Carrier) was the person of whom the confessions of the witches, and of her own children among the rest, agreed that the Devil had promised her that she should be queen of Hell."

"This wild witch (Martha Carrier) was the one whom the witches’ confessions, including those of her own children, all claimed that the Devil had promised her she would be queen of Hell."

It is quite evident that this "rampant hag" had no better opinion of the dignitaries and divines who managed matters at the time than they had of her.[ii.212] The record of her examination shows that she was not afraid to speak her mind, and in plain terms too. When brought before the magistrates, the following were their questions and her answers. The accusing witnesses having severally made their charges against her, declaring that she had tormented them in various ways, and threatened to cut their throats if they would not sign the Devil's book, which, they said, she had presented to them, the magistrates addressed her in these words: "What do you say to this you are charged with?" She answered, "I have not done it." One of the accusers cried out that she was, at that moment, sticking pins into her. Another declared that she was then looking upon "the black man,"—the shape in which they pretended the Devil appeared. The magistrate asked the accused, "What black man is that?" Her answer was, "I know none." The accusers cried out that the black man was present, and visible to them. The magistrate asked her, "What black man did you see?" Her answer was, "I saw no black man but your own presence." Whenever she looked upon the accusers, they were knocked down. The magistrate, entirely deluded by their practised acting, said to her, "Can you look upon these, and not knock them down?" Her answer was, "They will dissemble, if I look upon them." He continued: "You see, you look upon them, and they fall down." She broke out, "It is false: the Devil is a liar. I looked upon none since I came into the room but you." Susanna Sheldon cried out, in a trance, "I wonder what could[ii.213] you murder thirteen persons for." At this, her spirit became aroused: the accusers fell into the most intolerable outcries and agonies. The accused rebuked the magistrate, charging him with unfairness in not paying any regard to what she said, and receiving every thing that the accusers said. "It is a shameful thing, that you should mind these folks that are out of their wits;" and, turning to those who were bringing these false and ridiculous charges against her, she said, "You lie: I am wronged." The energy and courage of the prisoner threw the accusers, magistrates, and the whole crowd into confusion and uproar. The record closes the description of the scene in these words: "The tortures of the afflicted were so great that there was no enduring of it, so that she was ordered away, and to be bound hand and foot with all expedition; the afflicted, in the mean while, almost killed, to the great trouble of all spectators, magistrates, and others."

It's pretty clear that this "rampant hag" thought just as little of the officials and clergy running things at the time as they thought of her.[ii.212] The records of her questioning show that she wasn’t shy about sharing her opinions, and she did so quite directly. When she was brought before the magistrates, here are the questions they asked her and her responses. After the witnesses individually made their claims against her, saying she had tormented them in various ways and had threatened to slit their throats if they didn’t sign the Devil's book—which they claimed she had presented to them—the magistrates asked her, "What do you say to the charges against you?" She replied, "I haven’t done it." One accuser yelled that she was currently sticking pins into her. Another said she was staring at "the black man," the figure they claimed the Devil took. The magistrate asked the accused, "What black man is that?" Her response was, "I don't know any." The accusers insisted that the black man was present and visible to them. The magistrate asked her, "Which black man did you see?" She replied, "I saw no black man but your own presence." Whenever she looked at the accusers, they collapsed. The magistrate, completely fooled by their practiced performance, said to her, "Can you look at them and not knock them down?" She answered, "They will pretend to be affected if I look at them." He continued, "You see, you look at them, and they fall down." She exclaimed, "That’s false: the Devil is a liar. I’ve looked at no one since I came into the room except you." Susanna Sheldon shouted, in a trance, "I wonder why you would murder thirteen people." At this, the spirit of the accused was stirred: the accusers erupted in loud cries and convulsions. The accused scolded the magistrate for his bias, complaining that he ignored her words while accepting everything the accusers claimed. "It’s disgraceful that you listen to these folks who have lost their minds," and turning to those making these false and absurd accusations against her, she said, "You lie: I’m being wronged." The strength and bravery of the accused threw the accusers, magistrates, and the entire crowd into chaos and uproar. The record concludes the scene with these words: "The torments of the afflicted were so severe that they were unbearable, leading her to be ordered away and bound hand and foot without delay; meanwhile, the afflicted were almost in a state of collapse, much to the distress of all the onlookers, magistrates, and others."

Parris closes his report of this examination as follows:—

Parris wraps up his report on this examination with the following:—

"Note.—As soon as she was well bound, they all had strange and sudden ease. Mary Walcot told the magistrates that this woman told her she had been a witch this forty years."

"Note.—Once she was securely tied up, everyone felt an unusual sense of relief. Mary Walcot informed the magistrates that this woman had confessed to her that she had been a witch for the past forty years."

This shows the sort of communications the girls were allowed to hold with the magistrates, exciting their prejudices against accused persons, and filling their ears with all sorts of exaggerated and false stories. However much she may have been maligned[ii.214] by her neighbors, some of whom had long been in the habit of circulating slanders against her, the whole tenor of the papers relating to her shows that she always indignantly repelled the charge of being a witch, and was the last person in the world to have volunteered such a statement as Mary Walcot reported.

This illustrates the type of interactions the girls were permitted to have with the magistrates, stirring up their biases against the accused and filling their heads with all kinds of exaggerated and false tales. No matter how much she may have been slandered[ii.214] by her neighbors, some of whom had long been spreading rumors about her, the entire content of the documents related to her indicates that she always strongly denied the accusation of being a witch and was the least likely person to have made the statement that Mary Walcot claimed.

The examination of Martha Carrier must have been one of the most striking scenes of the whole drama of the witchcraft proceedings. The village meeting-house presented a truly wild and exciting spectacle. The fearful and horrible superstition which darkened the minds of the people was displayed in their aspect and movements. Their belief, that, then and there, they were witnessing the great struggle between the kingdoms of God and of the Evil One, and that every thing was at stake on the issue, gave an awe-struck intensity to their expression. The blind, unquestioning confidence of the magistrates, clergy, and all concerned in the prosecutions, in the evidence of the accusers; the loud outcries of their pretended sufferings; their contortions, swoonings, and tumblings, excited the usual consternation in the assembly. In addition to this, there was the more than ordinary bold and defiant bearing of the prisoner, stung to desperation by the outrage upon human nature in the abuse practised upon her poor children; her firm and unshrinking courage, facing the tempest that was raised to overwhelm her, sternly rebuking the magistrates,—"It is a shameful thing that you should mind these folks[ii.215] that are out of their wits;"—her whole demeanor, proclaiming her conscious innocence, and proving that she chose chains, the dungeon, and the scaffold, rather than to belie herself. Seldom has a scene in real life, or a picture wrought by the inspiration of genius and the hand of art, in its individual characters or its general grouping, surpassed that presented on this occasion.

The trial of Martha Carrier must have been one of the most memorable moments in the whole witchcraft drama. The village meeting house created a truly chaotic and thrilling scene. The frightening and horrifying superstition that clouded the minds of the people was evident in their appearances and actions. They believed that, at that moment, they were witnessing a major battle between the forces of good and evil, with everything on the line, which gave an intense and fearful look to their expressions. The blind, unwavering faith of the magistrates, clergy, and everyone involved in the prosecutions in the testimonies of the accusers; the loud cries of their supposed suffering; their dramatic contortions, fainting, and falling created the usual panic in the crowd. In addition to this, there was the unusually bold and defiant attitude of the accused, driven to desperation by the injustice done to her innocent children; her steadfast and unwavering bravery in the face of the storm meant to destroy her, sternly scolding the magistrates—"It's shameful that you should listen to these people that are out of their minds;” her entire presence declared her innocence, showing that she would choose chains, a prison cell, and even execution rather than betray herself. Rarely has a scene in real life, or a portrayal created by the inspiration of genius and the hand of an artist, in its individual characters or its overall arrangement, surpassed what was shown on this occasion.

Hutchinson has preserved the record of another examination of a different character. An ignorant negro slave-woman was brought before the magistrates. She was cunning enough, not only to confess, but to cover herself with the cloak of having been led into the difficulty by her mistress.

Hutchinson has documented another examination of a different kind. An uneducated Black slave woman was brought before the magistrates. She was clever enough not only to confess but also to claim that she had been guided into the situation by her mistress.

"Candy, are you a witch?—Candy no witch in her country. Candy's mother no witch. Candy no witch, Barbados. This country, mistress give Candy witch.

"Candy, are you a witch?—Candy is not a witch in her country. Candy's mother is not a witch. Candy is not a witch, Barbados. In this country, the mistress gives Candy a witch."

"Did your mistress make you a witch in this country?—Yes: in this country, mistress give Candy witch.

"Did your mistress turn you into a witch in this country?—Yes: in this country, my mistress gave Candy the title of witch."

"What did your mistress do to make you witch?—Mistress bring book and pen and ink; make Candy write in it."

"What did your boss do to turn you into a witch?—Boss brings a book and pen and ink; makes Candy write in it."

Upon being asked what she wrote, she took a pen and ink, and made a mark. Upon being asked how she afflicted people, and where were the puppets she did it with, she said, that, if they would let her go out for a moment, she would show them how. They allowed her to go out, and she presently returned with two pieces of cloth or linen,—one with two knots, the other with one tied in it. Immediately on seeing these articles, the "afflicted children" were "greatly[ii.216] affrighted," and fell into violent fits. When they came to, they declared that the "black man," Mrs. Hawkes, and the negro, stood by the puppets of rags, and pinched them. Whereupon they fell into fits again. "A bit of one of the rags being set on fire," they all shrieked that they were burned, and "cried out dreadfully." Some pieces being dipped in water, they went into the convulsions and struggles of drowning persons; and one of them rushed out of the room, and raced down towards the river.

When asked what she wrote, she picked up a pen and ink and made a mark. When asked how she hurt people and where the puppets she used were, she said that if they let her step outside for a moment, she'd show them how. They permitted her to go outside, and she soon returned with two pieces of cloth or linen—one tied with two knots and the other with one. As soon as they saw these items, the "afflicted children" were "greatly[ii.216] frightened" and fell into violent fits. When they came to, they claimed that the "black man," Mrs. Hawkes, and the black figure were standing by the rag puppets and pinching them. This caused them to have fits again. When a bit of one of the rags was set on fire, they all screamed that they were being burned and "cried out dreadfully." After some pieces were dipped in water, they convulsed and struggled as if they were drowning; one of them rushed out of the room and ran towards the river.

Candy and the girls having played their parts so well, there was no escape for poor Mrs. Hawkes but in confession, which she forthwith made. They were both committed to prison. Fortunately, it was not convenient to bring them to trial until the next January, when, the delusion having blown over, they were acquitted.

Candy and the girls did their parts so convincingly that poor Mrs. Hawkes had no choice but to confess, which she did immediately. Both she and Candy were sent to prison. Luckily, it wasn't practical to put them on trial until the following January, when, after the hype had died down, they were found not guilty.

Besides those already mentioned, there were others, among the victims of this delusion, whose cases excite our tenderest sensibility, and deepen our horror in the contemplation of the scene. It seems, that, some time before the transactions took place in Salem Village, a difficulty arose between two families on the borders of Topsfield and Ipswich, such as often occur among neighbors, about some small matter of property, fences, or boundaries. Their names were Perley and How. A daughter of Perley, about ten years of age, hearing, probably, strong expressions by her parents, became excited against the Hows, and charged the wife of How with bewitching her. She acted much[ii.217] after the manner of the "afflicted girls" in Salem Village, which was near the place of her residence. Very soon the idea became current that Mrs. How was a witch; and every thing that happened amiss to any one was laid at her door. She was cried out against by the "afflicted children" in Salem Village, and carried before the magistrates for examination on the 31st of May, 1692. Upon being brought into her presence, the accusers fell into their usual fits and convulsions, and charged her with tormenting them. To the question, put by the magistrates, "What say you to this charge?" her answer was, "If it was the last moment I was to live, God knows I am innocent of any thing in this nature." The papers connected with her trial bear abundant testimony to the excellent character of this pious and amiable woman. A person, who had lived near her twenty-four years, states, in her deposition, "that she had found her a neighborly woman, conscientious in her dealing, faithful to her promises, and Christianlike in her conversation." Several others join in a deposition to this effect: "For our own parts, we have been well acquainted with her for above twenty years. We never saw but that she carried it very well, and that both her words and actions were always such as well became a good Christian."

Besides those already mentioned, there were others among the victims of this delusion whose stories deeply touch our hearts and intensify our horror at what happened. It seems that some time before the events in Salem Village, a conflict arose between two families on the borders of Topsfield and Ipswich, similar to disputes that often occur among neighbors, over a minor issue of property, fences, or boundaries. Their names were Perley and How. A daughter of Perley, around ten years old, likely hearing strong comments from her parents, became upset with the Hows and accused Mrs. How of witchcraft. She behaved much like the "afflicted girls" in Salem Village, which was close to her home. Soon, the idea spread that Mrs. How was a witch, and anything that went wrong for anyone was blamed on her. The "afflicted children" in Salem Village called her out, and she was brought before the magistrates for questioning on May 31, 1692. When she was presented to her accusers, they fell into their usual fits and convulsions, claiming she was tormenting them. When the magistrates asked her, "What do you say to this charge?" she replied, "If it were my last moment alive, God knows I am innocent of anything like this." The documents related to her trial provide ample evidence of the excellent character of this devout and kind woman. A person who had lived near her for twenty-four years stated in her testimony, "I found her to be a good neighbor, honest in her dealings, true to her promises, and Christlike in her conversation." Several others joined in providing similar testimony: "For our part, we have known her well for over twenty years. We always saw her conduct as admirable, and her words and actions were always consistent with being a good Christian."

The following passages illustrate the wicked arts sometimes used to bring accusations upon innocent persons, and give affecting proof of the excellence of the character and heart of Elizabeth How:[ii.218]

The following passages show the deceitful tactics sometimes used to accuse innocent people and provide moving evidence of the integrity and kindness of Elizabeth How:[ii.218]

"The Testimony of Samuel Phillips, aged about sixty-seven, minister of the word of God in Rowley, who saith that Mr. Payson (minister of God's word also in Rowley) and myself went, being desired, to Samuel Perly, of Ipswich, to see their young daughter, who was visited with strange fits; and, in her fits (as her father and mother affirmed), did mention Goodwife How, the wife of James How, Jr., of Ipswich, as if she was in the house, and did afflict her. When we were in the house, the child had one of her fits, but made no mention of Goodwife How; and, when the fit was over, and she came to herself, Goodwife How went to the child, and took her by the hand, and asked her whether she had ever done her any hurt; and she answered, 'No, never; and, if I did complain of you in my fits, I knew not that I did so.' I further can affirm, upon oath, that young Samuel Perley, brother to the afflicted girl, looked out of a chamber window (I and the afflicted child being without doors together), and said to his sister, 'Say Goodwife How is a witch,—say she is a witch;' and the child spake not a word that way. But I looked up to the window where the youth stood, and rebuked him for his boldness to stir up his sister to accuse the said Goodwife How; whereas she had cleared her from doing any hurt to his sister in both our hearing; and I added, 'No wonder that the child, in her fits, did mention Goodwife How, when her nearest relations were so frequent in expressing their suspicions, in the child's hearing, when she was out of her fits, that the said Goodwife How was an instrument of mischief to the child.'"

The Testimony of Samuel Phillips, around sixty-seven years old, a minister of the word of God in Rowley, says that Mr. Payson (another minister of God in Rowley) and I were asked to go to Samuel Perly's house in Ipswich to see their young daughter, who was experiencing strange fits. During these fits (according to her parents), she would mention Goodwife How, the wife of James How, Jr., as if she were in the house and was bothering her. When we were at their home, the child had one of her fits but did not mention Goodwife How at all. After the fit ended and she returned to normal, Goodwife How approached the child, took her hand, and asked if she had ever harmed her. The child replied, 'No, never; and if I did complain about you in my fits, I didn’t mean it.' I can also testify, under oath, that young Samuel Perley, the brother of the afflicted girl, looked out of a window (while I was outside with the affected child) and told his sister, 'Say Goodwife How is a witch—say she’s a witch;' but the child didn’t respond that way. I then looked up at the window where the boy stood and scolded him for his audacity in trying to get his sister to accuse Goodwife How, especially since she had already cleared herself of any harm to his sister in front of both of us. I added, 'It’s no wonder the child mentioned Goodwife How during her fits when her closest relatives were often expressing their suspicions about her within earshot when she was not having fits.'

Mr. Payson, in reference to the same occasion, deposed as follows:[ii.219]

Mr. Payson, regarding the same event, testified as follows:[ii.219]

"Being in Perley's house some considerable time before the said Goodwife How came in, their afflicted daughter, upon something that her mother spake to her with tartness, presently fell into one of her usual strange fits, during which she made no mention (as I observed) of the abovesaid How her name, or any thing relating to her. Some time after, the said How came in, when said girl had recovered her capacity, her fit being over. Said How took said girl by the hand, and asked her whether she had ever done her any hurt. The child answered, 'No; never,' with several expressions to that purpose."

"While I was at Perley’s house for quite a while before Goodwife How arrived, their troubled daughter, reacting to something her mother said with sharpness, suddenly fell into one of her usual strange episodes. During this time, I noticed she didn’t mention How’s name or anything related to her. Eventually, How came in, and the girl had returned to normal after her episode. How took the girl by the hand and asked her if she had ever harmed her. The child replied, 'No, never,' along with a few other affirmations."

The bearing of Elizabeth How, under accusations so cruelly and shamefully fabricated and circulated against her, exhibits one of the most beautiful pictures of a truly forgiving spirit and of Christlike love anywhere to be found. Several witnesses say, "We often spoke to her of some things that were reported of her, that gave some suspicion of that she is now charged with; and she, always professing her innocency, often desired our prayers to God for her, that God would keep her in his fear, and support her under her burden. We have often heard her speaking of those persons that raised those reports of her, and we never heard her speak badly of them for the same; but, in our hearing, hath often said that she desired God that he would sanctify that affliction, as well as others, for her spiritual good." Others testified to the same effect. Simon Chapman, and Mary, his wife, say that "they had been acquainted with the wife of James How, Jr., as a neighbor, for this nine or[ii.220] ten years;" that they had resided in the same house with her "by the fortnight together;" that they never knew any thing but what was good in her. They "found, at all times, by her discourse, she was a woman of affliction, and mourning for sin in herself and others; and, when she met with any affliction, she seemed to justify God and say that it was all better than she deserved, though it was by false accusations from men. She used to bless God that she got good by affliction; for it made her examine her own heart. We never heard her revile any person that hath accused her with witchcraft, but pitied them, and said, 'I pray God forgive them; for they harm themselves more than me. Though I am a great sinner, I am clear of that; and such kind of affliction doth but set me to examining my own heart, and I find God wonderfully supporting me and comforting me by his word and promises.'"

The way Elizabeth How handled the cruel and false accusations against her shows an incredible example of a truly forgiving spirit and Christlike love. Several witnesses said, "We often talked to her about things that were said about her that raised some suspicion regarding the charges she now faces; and she, always insisting on her innocence, regularly asked us to pray to God for her, that He would keep her in His fear and support her through her struggles. We often heard her talk about the people who spread those rumors, and we never heard her speak poorly of them; instead, she often said that she hoped God would use that suffering, like others, for her spiritual benefit." Others confirmed this. Simon Chapman and his wife Mary said that "they had known James How, Jr.'s wife as a neighbor for about nine or ten years;" that they had lived in the same house with her "for two weeks at a time;" and that they only ever saw good in her. They "found, at all times, through her conversations, that she was a woman of suffering and mourning for her own sins and those of others; and when she faced any hardship, she seemed to justify God, saying it was all better than she deserved, even though it was due to false accusations. She often thanked God for the good that came from her suffering because it made her examine her own heart. We never heard her insult anyone who accused her of witchcraft; instead, she pitied them, saying, 'I pray God forgives them; for they harm themselves more than they harm me. Though I am a great sinner, I am innocent of that; and those kinds of challenges only lead me to examine my own heart, and I find God wonderfully supporting and comforting me through His word and promises.'"

Joseph Knowlton and his wife Mary, who had lived near her, and sometimes in the same family with her, testified, that, having heard the stories told about her, they were led to—

Joseph Knowlton and his wife Mary, who lived close to her and sometimes even in the same household, testified that after hearing the stories told about her, they were led to—

"take special notice of her life and conversation ever since. And I have asked her if she could freely forgive them that raised such reports of her. She told me yes, with all her heart, desiring that God would give her a heart to be more humble under such a providence; and, further, she said she was willing to do any good she could to those who had done unneighborly by her. Also this I have taken notice, that she would deny herself to do a neighbor a good turn."

"pay close attention to her life and conversations since then. I asked her if she could truly forgive those who spread rumors about her. She replied that she could, with all her heart, expressing a desire for God to give her a more humble heart in such circumstances. Additionally, she mentioned that she was willing to do any good she could for those who had been unkind to her. I've also noticed that she would inconvenience herself to help a neighbor."

The father of her husband,—James How, Sr., aged about ninety-four years,—in a communication addressed to the Court, declared that—

The father of her husband, James How, Sr., who is about ninety-four years old, stated in a message to the Court that—

"he, living by her for about thirty years, hath taken notice that she hath carried it well becoming her place, as a daughter, as a wife, in all relations, setting aside human infirmities, as becometh a Christian; with respect to myself as a father, very dutifully; and as a wife to my son, very careful, loving, obedient, and kind,—considering his want of eyesight, tenderly leading him about by the hand. Desiring God may guide your honors, ... I rest yours to serve."

"He has lived with her for about thirty years and has observed that she has fulfilled her roles as a daughter and a wife very well, setting aside any human flaws, as is fitting for a Christian. As for me, she has been a very devoted daughter, and as a wife to my son, she has been very caring, loving, obedient, and kind, especially considering his visual impairment, gently guiding him by the hand. I pray that God guides your honors, ... I remain yours to serve."

The only evidence against this good woman—beyond the outcries and fits of the "afflicted children," enacted in their usual skilful and artful style—consisted of the most wretched gossip ever circulated in an ignorant and benighted community. It came from people in the back settlements of Ipswich and Topsfield, and disclosed a depth of absurd and brutal superstition, which it is difficult to believe ever existed in New England. So far as those living in secluded and remote localities are regarded, this was the most benighted period of our history. Except where, as in Salem Village, special circumstances had kept up the general intelligence, there was much darkness on the popular mind. The education that came over with the first emigrants from the mother-country had gone with them to their graves. The system of common schools had not begun to produce its fruit in the thinly peopled outer settlements. There is no more disgraceful page in our annals than that which[ii.222] details the testimony given at the trial, and records the conviction and execution, of Elizabeth How.

The only evidence against this good woman—beyond the screams and fits of the "afflicted children," performed in their usual skillful and deceitful manner—was the most pathetic gossip ever spread in an ignorant and backward community. It came from people in the remote areas of Ipswich and Topsfield and revealed a shocking level of absurd and cruel superstition, which is hard to believe ever existed in New England. For those living in secluded and isolated places, this was the darkest period in our history. Unless, as in Salem Village, special circumstances had maintained some level of general intelligence, there was a lot of ignorance among the people. The education that came with the first settlers from the mother country had died with them. The system of public schools hadn’t started to show any results in the sparsely populated outer settlements. There is no more disgraceful chapter in our history than that which[ii.222] details the testimony given at the trial and records the conviction and execution of Elizabeth How.

But the dark shadows of that day of folly, cruelty, and crime, served to bring into a brighter and purer light virtues exhibited by many persons. We meet affecting instances, all along, of family fidelity and true Christian benevolence. James How, as has been stated, was stricken with blindness. He had two daughters, Mary and Abigail. Although their farm was out of the line of the public-roads, travel very difficult, and they must have encountered many hardships, annoyances, and, it is to be feared, sometimes unfeeling treatment by the way, one of them accompanied their father, twice every week, to visit their mother in her prison-walls. They came on horseback; she managing the bridle, and guiding him by the hand after alighting. Their humble means were exhausted in these offices of reverence and affection. One of the noble girls made her way to Boston, sought out the Governor, and implored a reprieve for her mother; but in vain. The sight of these young women, leading their blind father to comfort and provide for their "honored mother,—as innocent," as they declared her to be, "of the crime charged, as any person in the world,"—so faithful and constant in their filial love and duty, relieved the horrors of the scene; and it ought to be held in perpetual remembrance. The shame of that day is not, and will not be, forgotten; neither should its beauty and glory.

But the dark shadows of that day filled with foolishness, cruelty, and crime served to highlight the brighter and purer virtues shown by many people. Throughout the account, we see touching examples of family loyalty and genuine Christian kindness. James How, as mentioned, became blind. He had two daughters, Mary and Abigail. Though their farm was off the public roads, travel was very difficult, and they likely faced many hardships, annoyances, and, sadly, sometimes unkind treatment along the way. Still, one of them rode with their father twice a week to visit their mother in her prison. They traveled on horseback, with her managing the reins and guiding him by the hand after they got off. Their limited resources were drained in these acts of respect and love. One of the brave girls made her way to Boston, found the Governor, and begged for a reprieve for her mother, but it was to no avail. The sight of these young women leading their blind father to offer comfort and care for their "honored mother"—whom they insisted was "as innocent of the crime charged as any person in the world"—so faithful and dedicated in their love and duty, eased the horrors of that scene; and it should be remembered forever. The shame of that day will not be forgotten; neither should its beauty and glory.

The name of Elizabeth How, before marriage, was[ii.223] Jackson. Among the accounts rendered against the country for expenses incurred in the witchcraft prosecutions are these two items: "For John Jackson, Sr., one pair of fetters, five shillings; for John Jackson, Jr., one pair of fetters, five shillings." There is also an item for carrying "the two Jacksons" from one jail to another, and back again. No other reference to them is found among the papers. They were, perhaps, a brother and nephew of Elizabeth How. There is reason to suppose that her husband, James How, Jr., was a nephew of the Rev. Francis Dane, of Andover.

The name of Elizabeth How, before she got married, was[ii.223] Jackson. Among the expenses charged to the government for the witchcraft trials are these two items: "For John Jackson, Sr., one pair of shackles, five shillings; for John Jackson, Jr., one pair of shackles, five shillings." There’s also a charge for moving "the two Jacksons" from one jail to another, and back again. No other mention of them can be found in the documents. They might have been a brother and nephew of Elizabeth How. It’s believed that her husband, James How, Jr., was a nephew of Rev. Francis Dane, from Andover.

The examination of Job Tookey, of Beverly, presents some points worthy of notice. He is described as a "laborer," but was evidently a person, although perhaps inconsiderate of speech, of more than common discrimination, and not wholly deluded by the fanaticism of the times. He is charged with having said that he "would take Mr. Burroughs's part;" "that he was not the Devil's servant, but the Devil was his." When the girls testified that they saw his shape afflicting persons, he answered, like a sensible man, if they really saw any such thing, "it was not he, but the Devil in his shape, that hurts the people." Susanna Sheldon, Mary Warren, and Ann Putnam, all declared, that, at that very moment while the examination was going on, two men and two women and one child "rose from the dead, and cried, 'Vengeance! vengeance!'" Nobody else saw or heard any thing: but the girls suddenly became dumb; their eyes were[ii.224] fixed on vacancy, all looking towards the same spot; and their whole appearance gave assurance of the truth of what they said. In a short time, Mary Warren recovered the use of her vocal organs, and exclaimed, "There are three men, and three women, and two children. They are all in their winding-sheets: they look pale upon us, but red upon Tookey,—red as blood." Again, she exclaimed, in a startled and affrighted manner, "There is a young child under the table, crying out for vengeance." Elizabeth Booth, pointing to the same place, was struck speechless. In this way, the murder of about every one who had died at Royal Side, for a year or two past, was put upon Tookey. Some of them were called by name; the others, the girls pretended not to recognize. The wrath and horror of the whole community were excited against him, and he was committed to jail, by the order of the magistrates,—Bartholomew Gedney, Jonathan Corwin, and John Hathorne.

The examination of Job Tookey from Beverly highlights some noteworthy points. He’s labeled a "laborer," but it's clear he is a person, albeit perhaps a bit careless with his words, with more than average insight and not entirely fooled by the craziness of the time. He’s accused of claiming that he "would take Mr. Burroughs's side;" "that he wasn’t the Devil’s servant, but the Devil was his." When the girls testified that they saw his form tormenting people, he replied, like a rational person, that if they really saw anything, "it wasn’t him, but the Devil in his shape that hurts the people." Susanna Sheldon, Mary Warren, and Ann Putnam all stated that at that very moment during the examination, two men, two women, and one child "rose from the dead and cried, 'Vengeance! vengeance!'" No one else saw or heard anything: but the girls suddenly went quiet; their eyes were[ii.224] fixated on nothing, all staring at the same spot; and their whole demeanor confirmed the truth of what they claimed. Soon, Mary Warren regained her voice and shouted, "There are three men, three women, and two children. They are all in their burial shrouds: they look pale at us, but red at Tookey—red as blood." Again, she cried out in shock and fear, "There’s a young child under the table, begging for vengeance." Elizabeth Booth, pointing to the same spot, was rendered speechless. This way, the murders of nearly everyone who had died at Royal Side in the past year or two were attributed to Tookey. Some were named; others, the girls pretended not to recognize. The anger and fear of the entire community were stirred up against him, leading to his commitment to jail by the order of the magistrates—Bartholomew Gedney, Jonathan Corwin, and John Hathorne.

No character, indeed, however blameless lovely or venerable, was safe. The malignant accusers struck at the highest marks, and the consuming fire of popular frenzy was kindled and attracted towards the most commanding objects. Mary Bradbury is described, in the indictment against her, as the "wife of Captain Thomas Bradbury, of Salisbury, in the county of Essex, gentleman." A few of the documents that are preserved, belonging to her case, will give some idea what sort of a person she was:[ii.225]

No character, truly, no matter how innocent, attractive, or respected, was safe. The ruthless accusers targeted the most notable individuals, and the raging fire of public hysteria was ignited and drawn towards the most prominent figures. Mary Bradbury is described in the charges against her as the "wife of Captain Thomas Bradbury, of Salisbury, in the county of Essex, gentleman." A few of the documents preserved from her case will give some insight into what kind of person she was:[ii.225]

"The Answer of Mary Bradbury to the Charge of Witchcraft, or Familiarity with the Devil.

"The Answer of Mary Bradbury to the Charge of Witchcraft, or Familiarity with the Devil."

"I do plead 'Not guilty.' I am wholly innocent of any such wickedness, through the goodness of God that have kept me hitherto. I am the servant of Jesus Christ, and have given myself up to him as my only Lord and Saviour, and to the diligent attendance upon him in all his holy ordinances, in utter contempt and defiance of the Devil and all his works, as horrid and detestable, and, accordingly, have endeavored to frame my life and conversation according to the rules of his holy word; and, in that faith and practice, resolve, by the help and assistance of God, to continue to my life's end.

"I plead 'Not guilty.' I am completely innocent of any such wrongdoing, thanks to the goodness of God that has kept me safe so far. I am a servant of Jesus Christ and have devoted myself to Him as my only Lord and Savior, attending to Him in all His holy practices and utterly rejecting the Devil and all his works, which I see as horrible and vile. Therefore, I have tried to shape my life and conduct according to the teachings of His holy word, and with God’s help, I am committed to doing so for the rest of my life."

"For the truth of what I say, as to matter of practice, I humbly refer myself to my brethren and neighbors that know me, and unto the Searcher of all hearts, for the truth and uprightness of my heart therein (human frailties and unavoidable infirmities excepted, of which I bitterly complain every day).

"For the truth of what I'm saying regarding practice, I humbly turn to my friends and neighbors who know me, and to the Searcher of all hearts, for the honesty and integrity of my heart in this matter (acknowledging human weaknesses and unavoidable shortcomings, which I complain about every day)."

Mary Bradbury."

Mary Bradbury.

"July 28, 1692.—Concerning my beloved wife, Mary Bradbury, this is what I have to say: We have been married fifty-five years, and she hath been a loving and faithful wife to me. Unto this day, she hath been wonderful laborious, diligent, and industrious, in her place and employment, about the bringing-up of our family (which have been eleven children of our own, and four grandchildren). She was both prudent and provident, of a cheerful spirit, liberal and charitable. She being now very aged and weak, and grieved under her affliction, may not be able to speak much for herself, not being so free of speech as some others may be. I hope her life and conversation have been such amongst her[ii.226] neighbors as gives a better and more real testimony of her than can be expressed by words.

"July 28, 1692.—About my beloved wife, Mary Bradbury, here’s what I have to say: We have been married for fifty-five years, and she has been a loving and faithful partner to me. To this day, she has worked hard, been diligent, and industrious in her role, raising our family (which includes eleven children and four grandchildren). She has been wise and resourceful, with a cheerful spirit, generous and kind. Now, as she is very old and weak, and suffering from her illness, she may not be able to speak much for herself and isn't as outspoken as some others are. I hope her life and how she interacts with her[ii.226] neighbors reflect more about her than words can convey."

"Owned by me,

"Owned by me,"

Tho. Bradbury."

Tho. Bradbury.

The Rev. James Allin made oath before Robert Pike, an assistant and magistrate, as follows:—

The Rev. James Allin swore an oath before Robert Pike, who was an assistant and magistrate, stating the following:—

"I, having lived nine years at Salisbury in the work of the ministry, and now four years in the office of a pastor, to my best notice and observation of Mrs. Bradbury, she hath lived according to the rules of the gospel amongst us; was a constant attender upon the ministry of the word, and all the ordinances of the gospel; full of works of charity and mercy to the sick and poor: neither have I seen or heard any thing of her unbecoming the profession of the gospel."

"I have spent nine years in Salisbury working in the ministry and now four years as a pastor. From what I have observed, Mrs. Bradbury has lived according to the principles of the gospel among us. She consistently attended the ministry of the word and all the gospel ordinances, and she was full of charitable acts and mercy toward the sick and the poor. I have not seen or heard anything from her that contradicts the teachings of the gospel."

Robert Pike also affirmed to the truth of Mr. Allin's statement, from "upwards of fifty years' experience," as did John Pike also: they both declared themselves ready and desirous to give their testimony before the Court.

Robert Pike also confirmed the truth of Mr. Allin's statement, based on "over fifty years of experience," as did John Pike: they both expressed their willingness and eagerness to provide their testimony before the Court.

One hundred and seventeen of her neighbors—the larger part of them heads of families, and embracing the most respectable people of that vicinity—signed their names to a paper, of which the following is a copy:—

One hundred and seventeen of her neighbors—the majority of them heads of households, including the most respected members of the community—signed their names to a document, of which the following is a copy:—

"Concerning Mrs. Bradbury's life and conversation, we, the subscribers, do testify, that it was such as became the gospel: she was a lover of the ministry, in all appearance, and a diligent attender upon God's holy ordinances, being of a courteous and peaceable disposition and carriage. Neither did any of us (some of whom have lived in the town with her[ii.227] above fifty years) ever hear or ever know that she ever had any difference or falling-out with any of her neighbors,—man, woman, or child,—but was always ready and willing to do for them what lay in her power night and day, though with hazard of her health, or other danger. More might be spoken in her commendation, but this for the present."

"About Mrs. Bradbury's life and conversations, we, the undersigned, attest that it reflected the gospel well. She genuinely loved the ministry and actively participated in God's holy ordinances. She had a courteous and peaceful nature. None of us (some of whom have lived in the town with her[ii.227] for over fifty years) ever heard of or witnessed her having any conflicts with her neighbors—man, woman, or child. She was always ready and willing to help them in any way she could, day or night, even at the risk of her own health or safety. There’s more that could be said in her praise, but this is enough for now."

Although this aged matron and excellent Christian lady was convicted and sentenced to death, it is most satisfactory to find that she escaped from prison, and her life was saved.

Although this elderly woman and fine Christian lady was convicted and sentenced to death, it's very satisfying to see that she escaped from prison and her life was spared.

The following facts show the weight which ought to have been attached to these statements. The position, as well as character and age, of Mary [Perkins] Bradbury entitled her to the highest consideration, in the structure of society at that time. This is recognized in the title "Mrs.," uniformly given her. She had been noted, through life, for business capacity, energy, and influence; and, in 1692, was probably seventy-five years of age, and somewhat infirm in health. Her husband, Thomas Bradbury, had been a prominent character in the colony for more than fifty years. In 1641, he was appointed, by the General Court, Clerk of the Writs for Salisbury, with the functions of a magistrate, to execute all sorts of legal processes in that place. He was a deputy in 1651 and many subsequent years; a commissioner for Salisbury in 1657, empowered to act in all criminal cases, and bind over offenders, where it was proper, to higher courts, to take testimonies upon oath, and to join persons in marriage. He was required to keep a record of all his[ii.228] doings. If the parties agreed to that effect, he was authorized to hear and determine cases of every kind and degree, without the intervention of a jury. The towns north of the Merrimac, and all beyond now within the limits of New Hampshire, constituted the County of Norfolk; and Thomas Bradbury, for a long series of years, was one of its commissioners and associate judges. From the first, he was conspicuous in military matters; having been commissioned by the General Court, in 1648, Ensign of the trainband in Salisbury. He rose to its command; and, in the latter portion of his life, was universally spoken of as "Captain Bradbury." All along, the records of the General Court, for half a century, demonstrate the estimation in which he was held; various important trusts and special services requiring integrity and ability being from time to time committed to him. His family was influentially connected. His son William married the widow of Samuel Maverick, Jr., who was the son of one of the King's Commissioners in 1664: she was the daughter of the Rev. John Wheelwright, a man of great note, intimately related to the celebrated Anne Hutchinson, and united with her by sympathy in sentiment and participation in exile.

The following facts highlight the importance that should have been given to these statements. Mary [Perkins] Bradbury’s social position, character, and age warranted her the highest respect in the society of her time. This is evident from the title "Mrs." that was consistently used for her. Throughout her life, she was known for her business acumen, energy, and influence; by 1692, she was probably around seventy-five years old and somewhat in poor health. Her husband, Thomas Bradbury, had been a notable figure in the colony for over fifty years. In 1641, the General Court appointed him Clerk of the Writs for Salisbury, with the responsibilities of a magistrate to carry out various legal processes in that area. He served as a deputy in 1651 and for many years after that; he was a commissioner for Salisbury in 1657, authorized to handle all criminal cases and send offenders to higher courts when necessary, take testimony under oath, and perform marriage ceremonies. He was expected to keep a record of all his[ii.228] actions. If both parties agreed, he was authorized to hear and decide cases of all kinds and levels without needing a jury. The towns north of the Merrimack River and all areas now part of New Hampshire made up the County of Norfolk; Thomas Bradbury served as one of its commissioners and associate judges for many years. From the beginning, he was prominent in military affairs, having been commissioned as Ensign of the trainband in Salisbury by the General Court in 1648. He rose to lead it, and in the latter years of his life, he was commonly referred to as "Captain Bradbury." Over the course of half a century, the records of the General Court reflect the high regard in which he was held, with various significant responsibilities and special duties requiring integrity and capability entrusted to him. His family was well-connected; his son William married the widow of Samuel Maverick, Jr., who was the son of one of the King's Commissioners in 1664. She was the daughter of Rev. John Wheelwright, a notable figure closely related to the famous Anne Hutchinson, sharing sympathy in sentiment and experiences of exile with her.

Robert Pike, born in 1616, was a magistrate in 1644. He was deputy from Salisbury in 1648, and many times after; Associate Justice for Norfolk in 1650; and Assistant in 1682, holding that high station, by annual elections, to the close of the first charter, and during the whole period of the intervening and insur[ii.229]gent government. He was named as one of the council that succeeded to the House of Assistants, when, under the new charter, Massachusetts became a royal province. He was always at the head of military affairs, having been commissioned, by the General Court, Lieutenant of the Salisbury trainband in 1648; and, in the later years of his life, he held the rank and title of major. John Pike, probably his son, resided in Hampton in 1691, and was minister of Dover at his death in 1710.

Robert Pike, born in 1616, became a magistrate in 1644. He served as deputy from Salisbury in 1648 and numerous times afterward; he was Associate Justice for Norfolk in 1650 and was appointed Assistant in 1682, holding that position through annual elections until the end of the first charter and throughout the entire period of the intervening and insurrectionist government. He was named to the council that took over from the House of Assistants when, under the new charter, Massachusetts became a royal province. He was always at the forefront of military matters, having been appointed Lieutenant of the Salisbury trainband by the General Court in 1648; in his later years, he held the rank and title of major. John Pike, likely his son, lived in Hampton in 1691 and was the minister of Dover at the time of his death in 1710.

Surely, the attestations of such men as the Pikes, father and son, and the Rev. James Allin, to the Christian excellence of Mary Bradbury, must be allowed to corroborate fully the declarations of her neighbors, her husband, and herself.

Surely, the testimonies of people like the Pikes, father and son, and the Rev. James Allin about Mary Bradbury's Christian character should be taken to fully support what her neighbors, her husband, and she herself have said.

The motives and influences that led to her arrest and condemnation in 1692 demand an explanation. The question arises, Why should the attention of the accusing girls have been led to this aged and most respectable woman, living at such a distance, beyond the Merrimac? A critical scrutiny of the papers in the case affords a clew leading to the true answer.

The reasons and influences that resulted in her arrest and condemnation in 1692 need to be explained. The question is, why did the accusing girls focus on this elderly and highly respected woman, who lived far away, across the Merrimac? A close examination of the documents in the case provides a clue that leads to the real answer.

The wife of Sergeant Thomas Putnam, as has been stated (vol. i. p. 253), was Ann Carr of Salisbury. Her father, George Carr, was an early settler in that place, and appears to have been an enterprising and prosperous person. The ferry for the main travel of the country across the Merrimac was from points of land owned by him, and always under his charge. He was engaged in ship-building,—employing, and[ii.230] having in his family, young men; among them a son of Zerubabel Endicott, bearing the same name.

The wife of Sergeant Thomas Putnam was Ann Carr from Salisbury. Her father, George Carr, was one of the early settlers in that area and seemed to be a driven and successful person. He owned the ferry that was the main route for travel across the Merrimac and was always responsible for its operation. He was involved in shipbuilding, employing young men in his family, including a son of Zerubabel Endicott who shared the same name.

Among the papers in the case is the following:—

Among the documents in the case is the following:—

"The Deposition of Richard Carr, who testifieth and saith, that, about thirteen years ago, presently after some difference that happened to be between my honored father, Mr. George Carr, and Mrs. Bradbury, the prisoner at the bar, upon a sabbath at noon, as we were riding home, by the house of Captain Tho: Bradbury, I saw Mrs. Bradbury go into her gate, turn the corner of, and immediately there darted out of her gate a blue boar, and darted at my father's horse's legs, which made him stumble; but I saw it no more. And my father said, 'Boys, what do you see?' We both answered, 'A blue boar.'

"The Testimony of Richard Carr, who testifies and states that about thirteen years ago, soon after a disagreement that occurred between my respected father, Mr. George Carr, and Mrs. Bradbury, the defendant present, on a Sunday at noon, as we were riding home by Captain Tho: Bradbury's house, I saw Mrs. Bradbury go into her gate, turn the corner, and immediately a blue boar rushed out of her gate and charged at my father's horse's legs, causing it to stumble; but after that, I didn't see anything further. My father asked, 'Boys, what do you see?' and we both replied, 'A blue boar.'

"Zerubabel Endicott testifieth and saith, that I lived at Mr. George Carr, now deceased, at the time above mentioned, and was present with Mr. George Carr and Mr. Richard Carr. And I also saw a blue boar dart out of Mr. Bradbury's gate to Mr. George Carr's horse's legs, which made him stumble after a strange manner. And I also saw the blue boar dart from Mr. Carr's horse's legs in at Mrs. Bradbury's window. And Mr. Carr immediately said, 'Boys, what did you see?' And we both said, 'A blue boar.' Then said he, 'From whence came it?' And we said, 'Out of Mr. Bradbury's gate.' Then said he, 'I am glad you see it as well as I.' Jurat in Curia, Sept. 9, '92."

"Zerubabel Endicott testifies and says that I lived at Mr. George Carr's house, now deceased, at the time mentioned above, and was present with Mr. George Carr and Mr. Richard Carr. I also saw a blue boar dash out from Mr. Bradbury's gate towards Mr. George Carr's horse's legs, which caused the horse to stumble in a strange way. I then saw the blue boar rush from Mr. Carr's horse's legs back into Mrs. Bradbury's window. Mr. Carr immediately asked, 'Boys, what did you see?' We both replied, 'A blue boar.' Then he asked, 'Where did it come from?' We answered, 'Out of Mr. Bradbury's gate.' He then said, 'I'm glad you see it too.' Jurat in Curia, Sept. 9, '92."

Stephen Sewall, the clerk of the courts, with his usual eagerness to make the most of the testimony against persons accused, adds to the deposition the following:[ii.231]

Stephen Sewall, the court clerk, always eager to maximize the testimony against the accused, adds the following to the deposition:[ii.231]

"And they both further say, on their oaths, that Mr. Carr discoursed with them, as they went home, about what had happened, and they all concluded that it was Mrs. Bradbury that so appeared as a blue boar."

"And they both also say, under oath, that Mr. Carr talked with them, on their way home, about what had happened, and they all agreed that it was Mrs. Bradbury who appeared as a blue boar."

At the date of this occurrence, Richard Carr was twenty years of age, and Zerubabel Endicott a lad of of fifteen.

At the time of this event, Richard Carr was twenty years old, and Zerubabel Endicott was a fifteen-year-old boy.

It is not to be wondered at that there was "some difference between" George Carr and Mrs. Bradbury, if he was in the habit of indulging in such talk about her as he took the leading part in on this occasion. He evidently encouraged in his "boys" the absurd imaginations with which their credulity had been stimulated. They were prepared by preconceived notions to witness something preternatural about the premises of Mrs. Bradbury; and, in their jaundiced vision, any animal, moving in and out of the gate, might naturally assume the likeness of a "blue boar." Such ideas circulating in the family, and among the apprentices of Carr, would soon be widely spread. No doubt, Zerubabel, on his visits to his home, told wondrous stories about Mrs. Bradbury. His brother Samuel, then a youth of eighteen, had his imagination filled with them; and some time after, on a voyage to "Barbadoes and Saltitudos," in which severe storms and various disasters were experienced, attributed them all to Mrs. Bradbury; and, "in a bright moonshining night, sitting upon the windlass, to which he had been sent forward to look out for land," the wild fancies of his excited imagination took effect. He heard "a[ii.232] rumbling noise," and thought he saw the legs of some person. "Presently he was shook, and looked over his shoulder, and saw the appearance of a woman, from her middle upwards, having a white cap and white neckcloth on her, which then affrighted him very much; and, as he was turning of the windlass, he saw the aforesaid two legs." Such superstitious phantasms seem to be natural to the experiences of sailor-life, and perhaps still linger in the forecastle and at the night-watch.

It's not surprising that there was "some difference between" George Carr and Mrs. Bradbury, especially since he liked to talk about her in such a way on this occasion. He clearly encouraged his "boys" to indulge in the ridiculous fantasies that their gullibility had sparked. They were primed by their preconceived ideas to expect something supernatural about Mrs. Bradbury's place; in their distorted view, any animal coming in and out of the gate could easily be seen as a "blue boar." With these ideas circulating in the family and among Carr's apprentices, they were bound to spread fast. No doubt, Zerubabel, during his visits home, told amazing stories about Mrs. Bradbury. His brother Samuel, who was just eighteen at the time, was filled with these tales; and later, on a trip to "Barbados and Saltitudos," where they experienced severe storms and various disasters, he blamed it all on Mrs. Bradbury. One clear moonlit night, while sitting on the windlass he was sent to to keep an eye out for land, his imagination ran wild. He heard "a rumbling noise" and thought he saw someone’s legs. "Soon he was shaken, looked over his shoulder, and saw the upper half of a woman, dressed in a white cap and white neckcloth, which scared him quite a bit; and while he was turning the windlass, he saw the aforementioned two legs." Such superstitious visions seem to come naturally to sailors and might still linger in the forecastle and during night watch.

The habit of maligning Mrs. Bradbury as a witch dated back in the Carr family more than thirteen years, as the following deposition proves. I give it precisely as it is in the original. As in a few other instances in this work, the spelling and punctuation are preserved as curiosities. Like all the papers in the case, with one exception, presented in court against Mrs. Bradbury, it is in the handwriting of Sergeant Thomas Putnam:—

The habit of accusing Mrs. Bradbury of being a witch goes back over thirteen years in the Carr family, as the following statement shows. I present it exactly as it appears in the original. As in a few other instances in this work, the spelling and punctuation are kept as curiosities. Like all the documents in the case, with one exception, presented in court against Mrs. Bradbury, it is in the handwriting of Sergeant Thomas Putnam:—

[Transcriber's Note: Spelling and punctuation in the passage below are as in the original.]

[Transcriber's Note: Spelling and punctuation in the passage below are as in the original.]

"The Deposistion of James Carr. who testifieth and saith that about 20 years agoe one day as I was accidently att the house of mr wheleright and his daughter the widdow maverick then liued there: and she then did most curtuously invite me to com oftener to the house and wondered I was grown such a stranger. and with in a few days affter one evening I went thether againe: and when I came thether againe: william Bradbery was yr who was then a suter to the said widdow but I did not know it tell affterwards: affter I came in the widdow did so corsely treat the sd william Bradbery that he went away semeing to be angury:[ii.233] presently affter this I was taken affter a strange maner as if liueing creaturs did run about euery part of my body redy to tare me to peaces and so I continewed for about 3 qurters of a year by times & I applyed myself to doctor Crosbe who gave me a grate deal of visek but could make non work tho he steept tobacco in bosit drink he could make non to work where upon he tould me that he beleved I was behaged: and I tould him I had thought so a good while: and he asked me by hom I tould him I did not care for spaking for one was counted an honest woman: but he uging I tould him and he said he did beleve that mis Bradbery was a grat deal worss then goody martin: then presently affter this one night I being a bed & brod awake there came sumthing to me which I thought was a catt and went to strick it ofe the bed and was sezed fast that I could not stir hedd nor foot. but by and coming to my strenth I herd sumthing a coming to me againe and I prepared my self to strick it: and it coming upon the bed I did strick at it and I beleve I hit it: and after that visek would work on me and I beleve in my hart that mis Bradbery the prisoner att the barr has often afflected me by acts of wicthcraft.

The Deposition of James Carr. who testifies and says that about 20 years ago, one day when I was accidentally at Mr. Wheeler's house, his daughter, the widow Maverick, lived there. She kindly invited me to come by more often and wondered why I had become such a stranger. A few days later, one evening I went there again, and when I arrived, William Bradbury was there, who was then a suitor to the widow, though I didn't know it at the time. After I came in, the widow treated William Bradbury so harshly that he left looking upset.[ii.233] Shortly after this, I began to feel strange sensations, as if living creatures were running all over my body, ready to tear me apart, and this continued for about three-quarters of a year. I sought help from Dr. Crosbe, who gave me a lot of medicine but nothing worked, even when he steeped tobacco in hot drink. He then told me he believed I was bewitched, and I admitted I had thought that for some time. He asked me by whom, and I said I didn't want to speak because one was considered an honest woman. But after some urging, I told him, and he said he believed that Mrs. Bradbury was much worse than Goody Martin. Then, shortly after this, one night while I was in bed and half-awake, something came to me which I thought was a cat. I tried to swat it off the bed but felt seized, unable to move my head or feet. Gathering my strength, I heard something coming towards me again and prepared to strike it. When it came onto the bed, I did strike at it, and I believe I hit it. After that, the medicine began to work on me, and in my heart, I believe that Mrs. Bradbury, the prisoner at the bar, has often afflicted me through acts of witchcraft.

"Jurat in Curia Sep.mr. 9. 92."[B]

"Jurat in Curia Sep. 9, 92." __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

But the whole of George Carr's family did not sympathize in this morbid state of prejudice, or cherish such foolish and malignant fancies, against Mrs. Bradbury. One of the sons, William, had married, Aug. 20, 1672, Elizabeth, daughter of Robert Pike. It appears, by the following deposition, which is in the handwriting of Major Pike, that there had been another love affair between the families, leading to a melancholy result, inflaming still more the morbid and malign prejudice against Mrs. Bradbury; but William repudiated it utterly:—

But not everyone in George Carr's family shared this unhealthy bias or entertained such foolish and harmful ideas about Mrs. Bradbury. One of the sons, William, had married Elizabeth, the daughter of Robert Pike, on August 20, 1672. According to the following statement, which is written in Major Pike's handwriting, there had been another romantic involvement between the families that ended sadly, further fueling the negative feelings against Mrs. Bradbury; however, William completely rejected this idea:—

"The Testimony of William Carr, aged forty-one, or thereabouts, is that my brother John Carr, when he was young, was a man of as good capacity as most men of his age; but falling in love with Jane True (now wife of Captain[ii.235] John March), and my father being persuaded by [——] of the family (which I shall not name) not to let him marry so young, my father would not give him a portion, whereupon the match broke off, which my brother laid so much to heart that he grew melancholy, and by degrees much crazed, not being the man, that he was before, to his dying day.

The Testimony of William Carr, who is about forty-one years old, states that my brother John Carr, when he was younger, had as much potential as most men his age. However, after falling in love with Jane True (now the wife of Captain [ii.235] John March), and my father being convinced by someone from the family (whom I won’t name) not to let him marry so young, my father refused to provide him with a dowry. As a result, the engagement fell apart, which affected my brother deeply, causing him to become melancholic. Over time, he became much more unstable and was not the same person he had been before, right up until his death.

"I do further testify that my said brother was sick about a fortnight or three weeks, and then died; and I was present with him when he died. And I do affirm that he died peaceably and quietly, never manifesting the least trouble in the world about anybody, nor did not say any thing of Mrs. Bradbury nor anybody else doing him hurt; and yet I was with him till the breath and life were out of his body."

"I also testify that my brother was sick for about two weeks or so, and then he passed away; I was with him when he died. I confirm that he died peacefully and calmly, never showing the slightest distress about anyone, nor did he mention Mrs. Bradbury or anyone else harming him; I stayed with him until his last breath."

The usual form, jurat in curia, is written at the foot of this deposition, but evidently by a much later hand; and this leads me to mention the improbability that any testimony in favor of the accused ever reached the Court at the trials. They had no counsel: the attorney-general had prejudged all the cases; and his mind and those of the judges repudiated utterly any thing like an investigation. Every friendly voice was silenced. The doors were closed against the defence. Robert Pike, an assistant under the old and a councillor under the new government, endeavored in vain to enter them.

The usual form, jurat in curia, is written at the end of this deposition, but clearly in a much later handwriting; this makes me consider the unlikelihood that any testimony supporting the accused ever made it to the court during the trials. They didn't have any legal representation: the attorney-general had already made up his mind about all the cases; both he and the judges completely rejected any idea of an investigation. Any supportive voices were silenced. The doors were closed to the defense. Robert Pike, who was an assistant in the old government and a councilor in the new one, tried unsuccessfully to get in.

William Carr was a person of great respectability, and bore the appointment, by the General Court, of land-surveyor for the towns in the northern part of the present county of Essex.

William Carr was a highly respected individual and held the position of land surveyor for the towns in the northern part of what is now Essex County, appointed by the General Court.

The member of the family who—as stated in the[ii.236] foregoing deposition—prevented the match, all the circumstances seem to indicate, was Mrs. Ann Putnam. She perhaps had experienced the effects of a too early marriage, bringing the burden of life upon the constitution and the character before they are mature enough to bear it. She may have attributed to this cause the troubles and trials with which her cup had been so bitterly filled, and the blasting of the happiness of her youth. Half deranged, as perpetual excitement from the parish quarrels in reference to Mr. Bayley had made her, she may have become morbidly opposed to the equally early marriage of a brother. Added to this was the fact that Henry True had married one of Mrs. Bradbury's daughters, and that Jane True was his sister. It cannot be doubted that she entertained the same ideas about Mrs. Bradbury as her father and brothers, James and Richard; and, for this reason, also opposed the match of her brother John. Wishing to be relieved from the self-reproach of having caused his derangement and death, when the witchcraft delusion broke out at Salem Village and she became wholly absorbed by it, as all other deaths and misfortunes were ascribed to it, she avowed and maintained the belief, as some had suspected at the time, that the happiness, health, reason, and life of her brother had been destroyed by diabolical agency, practised by Mrs. Bradbury.

The family member who—as mentioned in the[ii.236] previous statement—prevented the match, seems to have been Mrs. Ann Putnam. She likely experienced the effects of marrying too young, taking on life's burdens on her health and character before she was ready. She may have blamed this for the hardships and struggles that filled her life with bitterness and ruined her youthful happiness. Being somewhat unbalanced from the ongoing conflicts in the parish over Mr. Bayley, she might have become irrationally opposed to her brother's early marriage. Additionally, the fact that Henry True married one of Mrs. Bradbury's daughters and that Jane True was his sister may have influenced her views. It's clear she shared the same negative feelings about Mrs. Bradbury as her father and brothers, James and Richard, and that's another reason she opposed her brother John's match. Wanting to escape the guilt of causing his mental breakdown and death, when the witchcraft panic erupted in Salem Village and she became completely consumed by it—just as all other deaths and misfortunes were attributed to it—she publicly declared and insisted on the belief, as some had suspected at the time, that her brother's happiness, health, sanity, and life were destroyed by witchcraft, supposedly carried out by Mrs. Bradbury.

In the state of things long subsisting between the Bradbury and Carr families, we find an explanation of the movement made against Mrs. Bradbury. Young[ii.237] Ann Putnam may have often heard her unpleasantly spoken of by her mother, and it was natural that she should have "cried out against her."

In the ongoing situation between the Bradbury and Carr families, we see why there was action taken against Mrs. Bradbury. Young[ii.237] Ann Putnam might have frequently heard her mother speak poorly of her, so it makes sense that she would have "cried out against her."

The family of Mrs. Ann Putnam seem to have had constitutional traits that illustrate and explain her own character and conduct. They were excitable and sensitive to an extraordinary degree. Their judgment, reason, and physical systems, were subject to the power of their fancies and affections. One of her brothers, in consequence of being badly coquetted with and jilted by a young widow, was thrown into an awful condition of body and mind "for about three-quarters of a year." The reason, health, and heart of another were broken; and he sunk into an early grave, in consequence of having been crossed in love. The death of her sister Bayley may have been caused by the unhappy controversies in the village parish. We have seen, and shall see, the all but maniac condition to which excitement brought her own mind. At last, the heaviest blow that can fall upon a fond wife suddenly snapped the brittle cord of her life. These considerations must be borne in mind, while we attempt to explain her conduct, and should throw the weight of pity and charity into the scales, if mortal judgment ventures to estimate her guilt. They are known to the Infinite Mind, and never overlooked by divine mercy.

The family of Mrs. Ann Putnam seems to have had traits that reflect and explain her character and behavior. They were incredibly excitable and sensitive. Their judgment, reasoning, and physical health were heavily influenced by their emotions and feelings. One of her brothers, after being mistreated and dumped by a young widow, fell into a terrible state of body and mind "for about three-quarters of a year." Another's reason, health, and heart were shattered, leading him to an early death due to heartbreak. The death of her sister Bayley might have been a result of the unhappy disputes in the village parish. We've seen, and will continue to see, the nearly maniacal state to which excitement drove her own mind. Ultimately, the hardest blow that can strike a loving wife dashed the fragile cord of her life. These factors should be considered as we try to understand her actions and should add a sense of compassion and forgiveness if we dare to judge her guilt. They are known to the Infinite Mind and never overlooked by divine mercy.

I have introduced these singular private details to illustrate what the documents all along show,—that the proceedings against persons charged with witch[ii.238]craft, in 1692, were instigated by all sorts of personal grudges and private piques, many of them of long standing, fomented and kept alive by an unhappy indulgence of unworthy feelings, always ready to mix themselves with popular excitements, and leading all concerned headlong to the utmost extent of mischief and wrong.

I have shared these unique personal details to show what the documents have always indicated—that the actions taken against people accused of witchcraft in 1692 were driven by all kinds of personal grudges and petty conflicts, many of which were longstanding. These feelings were stirred up and maintained by an unhealthy tolerance of negative emotions, always ready to merge with public hysteria, leading everyone involved straight into severe harm and injustice.

The case of Mary Bradbury has been allowed to occupy so large a space, because I desire to disabuse the public mind of a great error on this subject. It has been too much supposed, that the sufferers in the witchcraft delusion were generally of the inferior classes of society, and particularly ignorant and benighted. They were the very reverse. They mostly belonged to families in the better conditions of life, and, many of them, to the highest social level. They were all persons of great moral firmness and rectitude, as was demonstrated by their bearing under persecutions and outrage, and when confronting the terrors of death. Their names do not deserve reproach, and their memories ought to be held in honor.

The case of Mary Bradbury has been given significant attention because I want to clear up a major misconception about this issue. It's been widely believed that the victims of the witchcraft hysteria mostly came from lower social classes and were especially ignorant. In fact, the opposite is true. Most of them came from families in better circumstances, and many were from the highest social ranks. They were all individuals of great moral strength and integrity, which was evident in how they handled persecution, violence, and the fear of death. Their names do not deserve to be criticized, and their memories should be honored.

The following account of the examination of Elizabeth Cary of Charlestown, given by her husband, Captain Cary, a shipmaster, has the highest interest, as written at the time by one who was an eye-witness, and participated in the sufferings of the occasion:—

The following account of the examination of Elizabeth Cary from Charlestown, provided by her husband, Captain Cary, a shipmaster, is of great interest, as it was written at the time by someone who was an eyewitness and experienced the hardships of that moment:—

"May 24.—I having heard, some days, that my wife was accused of witchcraft; being much disturbed at it, by advice went to Salem Village, to see if the afflicted knew her: we arrived there on the 24th of May. It happened[ii.239] to be a day appointed for examination; accordingly, soon after our arrival, Mr. Hathorne and Mr. Corwin, &c., went to the meeting-house, which was the place appointed for that work. The minister began with prayer; and, having taken care to get a convenient place, I observed that the afflicted were two girls of about ten years old, and about two or three others of about eighteen: one of the girls talked most, and could discern more than the rest.

"May 24.—I had heard for several days that my wife was accused of witchcraft, and I was quite disturbed by it. Following some advice, I went to Salem Village to see if the afflicted recognized her. We arrived there on May 24. It happened to be a day set for examination; soon after we arrived, Mr. Hathorne, Mr. Corwin, and others went to the meeting house, which was the designated place for this. The minister started with a prayer, and after ensuring we had a good spot, I noticed that the afflicted were two girls around ten years old and a couple of others about eighteen. One of the girls spoke the most and seemed to have a clearer perception than the others."

"The prisoners were called in one by one, and, as they came in, were cried out at, &c. The prisoners were placed about seven or eight feet from the justices, and the accusers between the justices and them. The prisoners were ordered to stand right before the justices, with an officer appointed to hold each hand, lest they should therewith afflict them: and the prisoners' eyes must be constantly on the justices; for, if they looked on the afflicted, they would either fall into fits, or cry out of being hurt by them. After an examination of the prisoners, who it was afflicted these girls, &c., they were put upon saying the Lord's Prayer, as a trial of their guilt. After the afflicted seemed to be out of their fits, they would look steadfastly on some one person, and frequently not speak; and then the justices said they were struck dumb, and after a little time would speak again: then the justices said to the accusers, 'Which of you will go and touch the prisoner at the bar?' Then the most courageous would adventure, but, before they had made three steps, would ordinarily fall down as in a fit: the justices ordered that they should be taken up and carried to the prisoner, that she might touch them; and as soon as they were touched by the accused, the justices would say, 'They are well,' before I could discern any alteration,—by which I observed that the justices understood the manner of it.[ii.240] Thus far I was only as a spectator: my wife also was there part of the time, but no notice was taken of her by the afflicted, except once or twice they came to her, and asked her name. But I, having an opportunity to discourse Mr. Hale (with whom I had formerly acquaintance), I took his advice what I had best do, and desired of him that I might have an opportunity to speak with her that accused my wife; which he promised should be, I acquainting him that I reposed my trust in him. Accordingly, he came to me after the examination was over, and told me I had now an opportunity to speak with the said accuser, Abigail Williams, a girl eleven or twelve years old; but that we could not be in private at Mr. Parris's house, as he had promised me: we went therefore into the alehouse, where an Indian man attended us, who, it seems, was one of the afflicted; to him we gave some cider: he showed several scars, that seemed as if they had been long there, and showed them as done by witchcraft, and acquainted us that his wife, who also was a slave, was imprisoned for witchcraft. And now, instead of one accuser, they all came in, and began to tumble down like swine; and then three women were called in to attend them. We in the room were all at a stand to see who they would cry out of; but in a short time they cried out 'Cary;' and, immediately after, a warrant was sent from the justices to bring my wife before them, who were sitting in a chamber near by, waiting for this. Being brought before the justices, her chief accusers were two girls. My wife declared to the justices, that she never had any knowledge of them before that day. She was forced to stand with her arms stretched out. I requested that I might hold one of her hands, but it was denied me: then she desired me to wipe the tears from her eyes, and the sweat from her[ii.241] face, which I did; then she desired she might lean herself on me, saying she should faint. Justice Hathorne replied she had strength enough to torment these persons, and she should have strength enough to stand. I speaking something against their cruel proceedings, they commanded me to be silent, or else I should be turned out of the room. The Indian before mentioned was also brought in, to be one of her accusers; being come in, he now (when before the justices) fell down, and tumbled about like a hog, but said nothing. The justices asked the girls who afflicted the Indian: they answered she (meaning my wife), and that she now lay upon him. The justices ordered her to touch him, in order to his cure, but her head must be turned another way, lest, instead of curing, she should make him worse by her looking on him, her hand being guided to take hold of his; but the Indian took hold of her hand, and pulled her down on the floor in a barbarous manner: then his hand was taken off, and her hand put on his, and the cure was quickly wrought. I being extremely troubled at their inhuman dealings, uttered a hasty speech, 'That God would take vengeance on them, and desired that God would deliver us out of the hands of unmerciful men.' Then her mittimus was writ. I did with difficulty and charge obtain the liberty of a room, but no beds in it; if there had been, could have taken but little rest that night. She was committed to Boston prison; but I obtained a habeas corpus to remove her to Cambridge prison, which is in our county of Middlesex. Having been there one night, next morning the jailer put irons on her legs (having received such a command); the weight of them was about eight pounds: these irons and her other afflictions soon brought her into con[ii.242]vulsion fits, so that I thought she would have died that night. I sent to entreat that the irons might be taken off; but all entreaties were in vain, if it would have saved her life, so that in this condition she must continue. The trials at Salem coming on, I went thither to see how things were managed: and finding that the spectre evidence was there received, together with idle, if not malicious stories, against people's lives, I did easily perceive which way the rest would go; for the same evidence that served for one would serve for all the rest. I acquainted her with her danger; and that, if she were carried to Salem to be tried, I feared she would never return. I did my utmost that she might have her trial in our own county; I with several others petitioning the judge for it, and were put in hopes of it: but I soon saw so much, that I understood thereby it was not intended; which put me upon consulting the means of her escape, which, through the goodness of God, was effected, and she got to Rhode Island, but soon found herself not safe when there, by reason of the pursuit after her; from thence she went to New York, along with some others that had escaped their cruel hands, where we found his Excellency Benjamin Fletcher, Esq., Governor, who was very courteous to us. After this, some of my goods were seized in a friend's hands, with whom I had left them, and myself imprisoned by the sheriff, and kept in custody half a day, and then dismissed; but to speak of their usage of the prisoners, and the inhumanity shown to them at the time of their execution, no sober Christian could bear. They had also trials of cruel mockings, which is the more, considering what a people for religion, I mean the profession of it, we have been; those that suffered being many of[ii.243] them church members, and most of them unspotted in their conversation, till their adversary the Devil took up this method for accusing them.

The prisoners were called in one by one, and as they entered, they were shouted at, etc. The prisoners stood about seven or eight feet from the judges, with their accusers placed between the judges and themselves. They were instructed to stand directly before the judges, with an officer assigned to hold each hand, so they wouldn't harm anyone. The prisoners had to keep their eyes on the judges because if they looked at the afflicted, they would either fall into fits or cry out that they were being hurt by them. After questioning the prisoners about who was afflicting the girls, they were made to say the Lord's Prayer as a test of their guilt. Once the afflicted seemed to recover from their fits, they would stare intensely at one person and often not speak. The judges then claimed they were struck dumb, and after a while, they would speak again. The judges would ask the accusers, "Which of you will go touch the prisoner at the bar?" Then the bravest would try, but usually, before they took three steps, they would fall down as if in a fit. The judges ordered them to be picked up and brought to the prisoner so she could touch them; as soon as they were touched by the accused, the judges would declare, "They are well," before I could notice any change—indicating that the judges understood the act. [ii.240] At this point, I was just a spectator: my wife was also there part of the time, but the afflicted paid no attention to her, except a time or two when they asked her name. I had a chance to talk to Mr. Hale (whom I knew previously), and I asked his advice on what to do. I requested a chance to speak with the girl who accused my wife, and he agreed to arrange that, trusting him fully. After the examination, he came to me and said I could now speak with the accuser, Abigail Williams, an eleven- or twelve-year-old girl; however, we couldn't be private at Mr. Parris's house as he'd promised. So we went to the tavern, where an Indian man was waiting for us, who apparently was one of the afflicted. We offered him some cider, and he showed us several scars that looked old and claimed they were caused by witchcraft, informing us that his wife, also a slave, was imprisoned for witchcraft. Suddenly, instead of one accuser, they all came in, falling to the ground like pigs, and three women were called in to attend them. Everyone in the room watched to see who they would accuse next, and soon they shouted "Cary," after which a warrant was sent from the judges to bring my wife before them, who were sitting in a nearby room, waiting for this. When she was brought before the judges, her main accusers were two girls. My wife told the judges that she had never known them before that day. She was forced to stand with her arms outstretched. I asked if I could hold one of her hands, but that was denied. Then she asked me to wipe the tears from her eyes and the sweat from her[ii.241] face, which I did. She then asked if she could lean on me, saying she was going to faint. Justice Hathorne replied that she had enough strength to torment these people, so she should have enough strength to stand. When I spoke up against their cruel actions, they ordered me to be silent or face being thrown out of the room. The aforementioned Indian was also brought in as one of her accusers; when he entered, he fell down and rolled around like a pig but said nothing. The judges asked the girls who afflicted the Indian, and they pointed to my wife, saying she was now lying on him. The judges ordered her to touch him to cure him, but her head had to be turned away so that she wouldn't make things worse by looking at him. Her hand was guided to touch his; but the Indian grabbed her hand and pulled her down on the floor violently. Then his hand was removed, and hers placed on his, and the cure happened quickly. I was extremely distressed by their inhumane treatment, and I yelled, "May God take vengeance on them, and please deliver us from the hands of these merciless men." Then her mittimus was written. I struggled to arrange a room for her, though it had no beds; even if it did, I would have gotten little rest that night. She was sent to Boston prison, but I managed to get a habeas corpus to transfer her to Cambridge jail, which is in our county of Middlesex. After spending one night there, the next morning, the jailer put irons on her legs (following orders), weighing around eight pounds. These shackles and her other suffering soon threw her into convulsive fits, so I thought she might die that night. I sent to ask that the irons be removed, but all pleas were in vain, even if it could have saved her life; she had to endure this condition. With the Salem trials approaching, I went there to see how things were handled. Finding that spectral evidence was accepted there, along with silly, if not malicious, stories against people's lives, I quickly understood how the rest would unfold; the same evidence that worked for one would work for all the others. I warned her of her danger, fearing she would never return if taken to Salem for trial. I did everything I could to have her trial in our own county, petitioning the judge with several others, and we were given hope for it. But soon, I realized it was not intended, pushing me to find ways for her escape, which, by God's goodness, was accomplished, and she made it to Rhode Island. However, she quickly found herself unsafe there due to the pursuit after her; from there, she went to New York with some others who had escaped, where we encountered his Excellency Benjamin Fletcher, Esq., the Governor, who treated us very kindly. Afterward, some of my belongings were seized from a friend's place where I had left them, and I was imprisoned by the sheriff and held for half a day before being released; but to discuss their treatment of the prisoners and the cruelty they displayed during the executions would be unbearable for any sober Christian. They also faced trials of cruel ridicule, which is even more shocking considering our history as a religious people, I mean the profession of it; those who suffered were mostly church members and known for their integrity until their adversary, the Devil, raised these accusations against them.

Jonathan Cary."

Jonathan Cary.

The only account we have, written by one who had actually experienced, in his own person, what it was to fall into the hands of those who got up and carried on the prosecutions, is the following. Captain Alden had probably been from an early stage in their operations in the eye of the accusing girls. He was meant, perhaps, by what often fell from them about "the tall man in Boston." We are left entirely to conjecture as to the reason why they singled him out, as not one of them, we may be quite sure, had ever seen him. It may be that some person who had experienced discipline under his orders as a naval commander bore him a grudge, and took pains to suggest his name to the girls, and provided them with the coarse, vulgar, and ridiculous scandal they so recklessly poured out upon him:—

The only account we have, written by someone who actually went through the experience of falling into the hands of those who initiated and continued the prosecutions, is the following. Captain Alden had likely been under the scrutiny of the accusing girls from the early stages of their actions. He might have been the person referred to when they talked about "the tall man in Boston." We can only guess why they chose him specifically since none of them had ever seen him. It’s possible that someone who had been under his command as a naval officer held a grudge against him and made a point to suggest his name to the girls, supplying them with the crude, vulgar, and absurd rumors they carelessly spread about him:—

"An Account how John Alden, Sr., was dealt with at Salem Village.

An Account of How John Alden, Sr., Was Treated at Salem Village.

"John Alden, Sr., of Boston, in the county of Suffolk, mariner, on the twenty-eighth day of May, 1692, was sent for by the magistrates of Salem, in the county of Essex, upon the accusation of a company of poor distracted or possessed creatures or witches; and, being sent by Mr. Stoughton, arrived there on the 31st of May, and appeared at Salem Village before Mr. Gedney, Mr. Hathorne, and Mr. Corwin.

"John Alden, Sr., of Boston, in Suffolk County, a sailor, was summoned by the magistrates of Salem, in Essex County, on May 28, 1692, due to accusations from a group of disturbed or possessed individuals or witches; and, having been sent by Mr. Stoughton, he arrived there on May 31 and appeared at Salem Village before Mr. Gedney, Mr. Hathorne, and Mr. Corwin."

"Those wenches being present who played their jug[ii.244]gling tricks, falling down, crying out, and staring in people's faces, the magistrates demanded of them several times, who it was, of all the people in the room, that hurt them. One of these accusers pointed several times at one Captain Hill, there present, but spake nothing. The same accuser had a man standing at her back to hold her up. He stooped down to her ear: then she cried out, 'Alden, Alden afflicted her.' One of the magistrates asked her if she had ever seen Alden. She answered, 'No.' He asked her how she knew it was Alden. She said the man told her so.

"Those ladies who were there put on their juggling tricks, falling down, crying out, and staring at people’s faces. The magistrates repeatedly asked them who, among all the people in the room, had harmed them. One of the accusers pointed multiple times at a Captain Hill, who was present, but didn’t say anything. The same accuser had a man standing behind her to support her. He leaned down to her ear, and then she shouted, 'Alden, Alden did this to her.' One of the magistrates asked her if she had ever seen Alden. She replied, 'No.' He then asked her how she knew it was Alden. She said the man told her so."

"Then all were ordered to go down into the street, where a ring was made; and the same accuser cried out, 'There stands Alden, a bold fellow, with his hat on before the judges: he sells powder and shot to the Indians and French, and lies with the Indian squaws, and has Indian papooses.' Then was Alden committed to the marshal's custody, and his sword taken from him; for they said he afflicted them with his sword. After some hours, Alden was sent for to the meeting-house in the Village, before the magistrates, who required Alden to stand upon a chair, to the open view of all the people.

"Then everyone was ordered to go down to the street, where a circle was formed; and the same accuser shouted, 'There stands Alden, a bold guy, with his hat on in front of the judges: he sells gunpowder and ammunition to the Indians and the French, sleeps with the Indian women, and has Indian kids.' Then Alden was taken into custody by the marshal, and his sword was taken away from him; they claimed he threatened them with his sword. After a few hours, Alden was called to the meeting house in the Village, in front of the magistrates, who asked Alden to stand on a chair for everyone to see."

"The accusers cried out that Alden pinched them then, when he stood upon the chair, in the sight of all the people, a good way distant from them. One of the magistrates bid the marshal to hold open Alden's hands, that he might not pinch those creatures. Alden asked them why they should think that he should come to that village to afflict those persons that he never knew or saw before. Mr. Gedney bid Alden to confess, and give glory to God. Alden said he hoped he should give glory to God, and hoped he should never gratify the Devil: but appealed to all that ever knew him, if they ever suspected him to be such a person;[ii.245] and challenged any one that could bring in any thing on their own knowledge, that might give suspicion of his being such an one. Mr. Gedney said he had known Alden many years, and had been at sea with him, and always looked upon him to be an honest man; but now he saw cause to alter his judgment. Alden answered, he was sorry for that, but he hoped God would clear up his innocency, that he would recall that judgment again; and added, that he hoped that he should, with Job, maintain his integrity till he died. They bid Alden look upon the accusers, which he did, and then they fell down. Alden asked Mr. Gedney what reason there could be given why Alden's looking upon him did not strike him down as well; but no reason was given that I heard. But the accusers were brought to Alden to touch them; and this touch, they said, made them well. Alden began to speak of the providence of God in suffering these creatures to accuse innocent persons. Mr. Noyes asked Alden why he should offer to speak of the providence of God: God, by his providence (said Mr. Noyes), governs the world, and keeps it in peace; and so went on with discourse, and stopped Alden's mouth as to that. Alden told Mr. Gedney that he could assure him that there was a lying spirit in them; for I can assure you that there is not a word of truth in all these say of me. But Alden was again committed to the marshal, and his mittimus written.

The accusers shouted that Alden pinched them when he was standing on a chair, visible to everyone, quite far away from them. One of the magistrates instructed the marshal to hold Alden's hands open so he couldn't pinch those people. Alden asked why they thought he had come to that village to harm people he had never known or seen before. Mr. Gedney told Alden to confess and give glory to God. Alden said he hoped to give glory to God and wished he would never please the Devil; he appealed to everyone who knew him, asking if they ever suspected him of being such a person, and challenged anyone to present any evidence from their own knowledge that might suggest he was like that. Mr. Gedney said he had known Alden for many years and had been at sea with him, always believing him to be an honest man; but now he had reason to change his mind. Alden replied that he was sorry to hear that but hoped God would prove his innocence, allowing Gedney to reconsider his judgment; he added that he hoped to maintain his integrity like Job until he died. They told Alden to look at the accusers, which he did, and then they fell down. Alden asked Mr. Gedney why his looking at him didn't strike him down too, but no reason was given that I heard. However, the accusers were brought to Alden to be touched, and they claimed that this touch made them feel better. Alden began to speak about God's providence in allowing these people to accuse innocent persons. Mr. Noyes asked Alden why he should discuss God's providence, saying that God governs the world and keeps it peaceful, and continued speaking, cutting off Alden's response. Alden told Mr. Gedney that he could assure him there was a lying spirit among them; he confirmed that there was not one word of truth in all the accusations against him. But Alden was once again taken into custody by the marshal, and his mittimus was written.

"To Boston Alden was carried by a constable: no bail would be taken for him, but was delivered to the prison-keeper, where he remained fifteen weeks; and then, observing the manner of trials, and evidence then taken, was at length prevailed with to make his escape.

"To Boston, Alden was taken by a constable: no bail would be accepted for him, and he was handed over to the prison keeper, where he stayed for fifteen weeks; and then, after watching the trials and the evidence being presented, he was finally persuaded to make his escape."

"Per John Alden."

"According to John Alden."

Alden made his escape about the middle of September, at the bloodiest crisis of the tragedy, and just before the execution of nine of the victims, including that of Giles Corey. He is understood to have fled to Duxbury, where his relatives secreted him. He made his appearance among them late at night; and, on their asking an explanation of his unexpected visit at that hour, replied that he was flying from the Devil, and the Devil was after him. After a while, when the delusion had abated, and people were coming to their senses, he delivered himself up, and was bound over to the Superior Court at Boston, the last Tuesday in April, 1693, when, no one appearing to prosecute, he, with some hundred and fifty others, was discharged by proclamation, and all judicial proceedings brought to a close. It is to be feared, that ever after, to his dying day, when the subject of his experience on the 31st of May, 1692, was referred to, the old sailor indulged in rather strong expressions in relating his reminiscences of Rev. "Mr. Nicholas Noyes," "Mr. Bartholomew Gedney," and the "wenches" of Salem Village.

Alden made his escape around the middle of September, at the peak of the tragedy, just before the execution of nine victims, including Giles Corey. It's believed he fled to Duxbury, where his relatives hid him. He showed up among them late at night, and when they asked why he was visiting at such an unexpected hour, he replied that he was running away from the Devil, who was after him. After some time, when the panic had settled and people were starting to regain their senses, he turned himself in and was taken to the Superior Court in Boston on the last Tuesday in April, 1693. Since no one showed up to prosecute, he, along with about one hundred and fifty others, was released by proclamation, bringing all legal proceedings to an end. It’s feared that from then on, until his dying day, whenever the topic of his experience on May 31, 1692, came up, the old sailor would use pretty strong language when recalling his memories of Rev. "Mr. Nicholas Noyes," "Mr. Bartholomew Gedney," and the "wenches" of Salem Village.

Captain John Alden was a son of John Alden, ever memorable as one of the first founders of Plymouth Colony. He had been for more than thirty years a resident of Boston, a member of the church, and in all respects a leading and distinguished man. For some time, he had been commander of the armed vessel belonging to the colony, and was a brave and efficient officer and an able and experienced mari[ii.247]ner. He had seen service in French and Indian wars, had acted two years before, that is in 1690, as commissioner in conducting negotiations with the native tribes, and, at a later period, was charged with important trusts as a naval commander. He was a man of large property, and seventy years of age. He was, as well he might be, utterly confounded and amazed in finding himself charged as a principal culprit in the Salem witchcraft. The accusing girls were evidently delighted to get hold of such a notable and doughty character; and their tongues were released, on the occasion, from all restraints of decorum and decency. When the ring was formed around him "in the street," in front of Deacon Ingersoll's door, his sword unbuckled from his side, and such foul and vulgar aspersions cast upon his good name, he felt, no doubt, that it would have been better to have fallen into the hands of savages of the wilderness or pirates on the sea, than of the crowd of audacious girls that hustled him about in Salem Village. It was a relief to his wounded honor, and gave leisure for the workings of his indignant resentment, to escape from them into Boston jail. Not only his old shipmate, Bartholomew Gedney, but, as will be seen, the learned attorney-general, who was present, and witnessed the whole affair, was fully convinced of his guilt.

Captain John Alden was the son of John Alden, who is well-remembered as one of the first founders of Plymouth Colony. He had lived in Boston for over thirty years, was a member of the church, and was a prominent and respected man. For some time, he had been the commander of the colony's armed vessel, known for being a brave and efficient officer as well as an experienced mariner. He had served in the French and Indian wars and, two years earlier, in 1690, acted as a commissioner in negotiations with the native tribes. Later on, he was entrusted with significant responsibilities as a naval commander. He was a wealthy man, aged seventy. He was understandably shocked and bewildered to find himself accused as a key culprit in the Salem witch trials. The accusing girls seemed thrilled to target such a notable figure, freely expressing themselves without regard for decorum or decency. When a crowd formed around him "in the street," in front of Deacon Ingersoll's door, with his sword unbuckled and vile accusations thrown at his good name, he must have felt that it would have been better to face the savages of the wilderness or pirates at sea than this rambunctious group of girls in Salem Village. Escaping into Boston jail provided some relief for his wounded honor and allowed him some time to process his furious resentment. Not only his old shipmate, Bartholomew Gedney, but also, as we will see, the learned attorney general who was present and witnessed everything was thoroughly convinced of his guilt.

The wife of an honest and worthy man in Andover was sick of a fever. After all the usual means had failed to check the symptoms of her disease, the idea[ii.248] became prevalent that she was suffering under an "evil hand." The husband, pursuant of the advice of friends, posted down to Salem Village to ascertain from the afflicted girls who was bewitching his wife. Two of them returned with him to Andover. Never did a place receive such fatal visitors. The Grecian horse did not bring greater consternation to ancient Ilium. Immediately after their arrival, they succeeded in getting more than fifty of the inhabitants into prison, several of whom were hanged. A perfect panic swept like a hurricane over the place. The idea seized all minds, as Hutchinson expresses it, that the only "way to prevent an accusation was to become an accuser."—"The number of the afflicted increased every day, and the number of the accused in proportion." In this state of things, such a great accession being made to the ranks of the confessing witches, the power of the delusion became irresistibly strengthened. Mr. Dudley Bradstreet, the magistrate of the place, after having committed about forty persons to jail, concluded he had done enough, and declined to arrest any more. The consequence was that he and his wife were cried out upon, and they had to fly for their lives. They accused his brother, John Bradstreet, with having "afflicted" a dog. Bradstreet escaped by flight. The dog was executed. The number of persons who had publicly confessed that they had entered into a league with Satan, and exercised the diabolical power thus acquired, to the injury, torment, and death of innocent parties, pro[ii.249]duced a profound effect upon the public mind. At the same time, the accusers had everywhere increased in number, owing to the inflamed state of imagination universally prevalent which ascribed all ailments or diseases to the agency of witches, to a mere love of notoriety and a passion for general sympathy, to a desire to be secure against the charge of bewitching others, or to a malicious disposition to wreak vengeance upon enemies. The prisons in Salem, Ipswich, Boston, and Cambridge, were crowded. All the securities of society were dissolved. Every man's life was at the mercy of every other man. Fear sat on every countenance, terror and distress were in all hearts, silence pervaded the streets; all who could, quit the country; business was at a stand; a conviction sunk into the minds of men, that a dark and infernal confederacy had got foot-hold in the land, threatening to overthrow and extirpate religion and morality, and establish the kingdom of the Prince of darkness in a country which had been dedicated, by the prayers and tears and sufferings of its pious fathers, to the Church of Christ and the service and worship of the true God. The feeling, dismal and horrible indeed, became general, that the providence of God was removed from them; that Satan was let loose, and he and his confederates had free and unrestrained power to go to and fro, torturing and destroying whomever he willed. We cannot, by any extent of research or power of imagination, enter fully into the ideas of the people of that day; and it is there[ii.250]fore absolutely impossible to appreciate the awful condition of the community at the point of time to which our narrative has led us.

The wife of an honest and decent man in Andover was suffering from a fever. After all the usual remedies failed to improve her condition, there was a widespread belief that she was under an "evil hand." Acting on the advice of friends, her husband went to Salem Village to find out from the afflicted girls who was supposedly bewitching his wife. Two of them came back with him to Andover. Never did a place welcome such deadly visitors. The Trojan horse didn’t bring more panic to ancient Troy. Right after their arrival, they got over fifty residents thrown in jail, several of whom were hanged. A total panic swept through the community like a hurricane. The idea took hold, as Hutchinson noted, that the only way to avoid being accused was to become an accuser. The number of afflicted people grew every day, as did the number of those accused. In this situation, with so many confessing to being witches, the delusion gained even more power. Mr. Dudley Bradstreet, the local magistrate, after sending about forty people to jail, decided he had done enough and refused to arrest anyone else. As a result, both he and his wife were accused and had to flee for their lives. They accused his brother, John Bradstreet, of "afflicting" a dog. John escaped by running away, but the dog was executed. The number of people who publicly confessed to making a pact with Satan and using that power to harm innocent people had a profound effect on public perception. Meanwhile, the number of accusers rose everywhere due to the rampant paranoia that attributed all illness or misfortune to witches, along with a craving for attention, a need for sympathy, a wish to avoid accusations, or a malicious desire for revenge. The prisons in Salem, Ipswich, Boston, and Cambridge were overcrowded. All societal protections had broken down. Every person’s life was at the mercy of every other person. Fear was visible on every face, terror and distress filled every heart, and silence dominated the streets; those who could left the country; business came to a halt; and there was a growing belief that a dark and evil conspiracy had taken root, threatening to overthrow religion and morality, and establish the dominion of darkness in a land that had been dedicated, through the prayers, tears, and sacrifices of its devout founders, to the Church of Christ and the true God. The widespread feeling, indeed grim and horrifying, was that God’s protection had been withdrawn; that Satan was unleashed, free to roam around, torturing and destroying whoever he chose. We cannot, no matter how much we study or imagine, fully grasp the mindset of the people of that time; and it’s therefore impossible to truly appreciate the dire condition of the community at this point in our narrative.

In the midst of this state of things, the old colony of Massachusetts was transformed into a royal province, and a new government organized. Sir William Phips, the governor, arrived at Boston, with the new charter, on the evening of the 14th of May. William Stoughton, of Dorchester, superseded Thomas Danforth as deputy-governor. In the Council, which took the place of the Assistants, most of the former body were retained. Bartholomew Gedney had a few years before been dropped from the board of Assistants. He was now placed in the Council with John Hathorne, Jonathan Corwin, Samuel Appleton, and Robert Pike, of this county. The new government did not interfere with the proceedings in progress relating to the witchcraft prosecutions, at the moment. Examinations and commitments went on as before; only the magistrates, acting on those occasions, were re-enforced by Mr. Gedney, who presided at their sessions. The affair had become so formidable, and the public infatuation had reached such a point, that it was difficult to determine what ought to be done. Sir William Phips, no doubt, felt that it was beyond his depth, and yielded himself to the views of the leading men of his council. Stoughton was in full sympathy with Cotton Mather, whose interest had been used in procuring his appointment over Danforth. Through him, Mather acquired, and held for some time, great as[ii.251]cendency with the governor. It was concluded best to appoint a special court of Oyer and Terminer for the witchcraft trials. Stoughton, the deputy-governor, was commissioned as chief-justice. Nathaniel Saltonstall of Haverhill; Major John Richards of Boston; Major Bartholomew Gedney of Salem; Mr. Wait Winthrop, Captain Samuel Sewall, and Mr. Peter Sargent, all three of Boston,—were made associate judges. Saltonstall early withdrew from the service; and Jonathan Corwin, of Salem, succeeded to his place on the bench of the special court. A majority of the judges were citizens of Boston.

In the middle of all this, the old colony of Massachusetts was turned into a royal province, and a new government was set up. Governor Sir William Phips arrived in Boston with the new charter on the evening of May 14th. William Stoughton from Dorchester took over from Thomas Danforth as deputy governor. In the Council, which replaced the Assistants, most of the previous members were kept. Bartholomew Gedney had been dropped from the Assistants a few years earlier, but now he was added to the Council along with John Hathorne, Jonathan Corwin, Samuel Appleton, and Robert Pike from this county. The new government didn’t interfere with the ongoing witchcraft prosecutions at that time. Examinations and commitments continued as before; the magistrates were just joined by Mr. Gedney, who led their sessions. The situation had become so serious, and the public obsession had reached such a level, that it was hard to figure out what should be done. Sir William Phips likely felt out of his depth and went along with the opinions of the key members of his council. Stoughton fully supported Cotton Mather, who had helped secure his appointment over Danforth. Through him, Mather gained, and maintained for a while, significant influence with the governor. It was decided that the best course of action would be to create a special court of Oyer and Terminer for the witchcraft trials. Stoughton, as deputy governor, was appointed chief justice. Nathaniel Saltonstall from Haverhill; Major John Richards from Boston; Major Bartholomew Gedney from Salem; Mr. Wait Winthrop, Captain Samuel Sewall, and Mr. Peter Sargent, all three from Boston,—were appointed as associate judges. Saltonstall left the service early, and Jonathan Corwin from Salem took his place on the special court bench. Most of the judges were residents of Boston.

Jonathan Corwin had been associated with Hathorne in conducting the examinations that have been described. He was a son of George Corwin, who has been noticed in the account of Salem Village.

Jonathan Corwin had worked with Hathorne in carrying out the examinations mentioned earlier. He was the son of George Corwin, who was mentioned in the account of Salem Village.

A shade of illegality rests upon the very existence of this special court. There has always been a question whether the new charter gave to the governor and council power to create it without the concurrence of the House of Representatives. It has been held that such a court could have no other lawful foundation than an act of the General Court. Hutchinson was evidently of this opinion. This question was a very serious one; for, as that considerate and able historian and eminent judicial officer says, the tribunal that passed sentence in the witchcraft prosecutions was "the most important court to the life of the subject which was ever held in the province." The time required to convene the popular branch of the[ii.252] government is itself, in all cases, an element of safety. In this case, it would have carried the country beyond the period of the delusion, and saved its annals from their darkest and bloodiest page. The condition of things when he arrived, had his counsellors been wise, would have led Sir William Phips forthwith to issue writs of election of deputies, before taking any action whatever. In a free republican government, the executive department ought never to attempt to dispose of difficult matters of vital importance without the joint deliberations and responsibility of the representatives of the people.

A shadow of illegality hangs over the existence of this special court. There's always been doubt about whether the new charter allowed the governor and council to create it without the approval of the House of Representatives. It's been argued that such a court could only be lawfully established by an act of the General Court. Hutchinson clearly held this view. This was a serious issue; as a thoughtful and skilled historian and distinguished judicial figure noted, the court that sentenced those involved in the witchcraft trials was "the most important court to the life of the subject that was ever held in the province." The time it takes to gather the popular branch of the [ii.252] government is a crucial safety measure in all cases. In this instance, it would have allowed the country to move beyond the delusion period and spared its history from its darkest and bloodiest chapter. Given the circumstances when he arrived, had his advisors been wise, Sir William Phips should have immediately issued writs for the election of deputies before taking any other action. In a free republican government, the executive branch should never handle complex issues of critical importance without the joint discussions and accountability of the people's representatives.

So far as the composition of the court is considered, no objection can be made. The justices were all members of the council, and belonged to the highest order, not only of the magistracy, but of society generally. They constituted as respectable a body of gentlemen as could have been collected. Thomas Newton, of Boston, was commissioned to act as attorney-general. The official title of marshal ceasing with the new government, George Corwin was appointed sheriff of the county of Essex. Herrick appears to have continued in the service as deputy. Sheriff Corwin was twenty-six years of age. He was the grandson of the original George Corwin, and the son of John. His mother was grand-daughter of Governor Winthrop of Massachusetts, and daughter of Governor Winthrop of Connecticut. His wife was a daughter of Bartholomew Gedney; so that it appears that two of the judges were his uncles, and one his[ii.253] father-in-law. These personal connections may be borne in mind, as affording ground to believe, that, in the discharge of his painful duties, he did not act without advice and suggestions from the highest quarter.

As far as the court's composition is concerned, there are no objections. The justices were all council members and belonged to the highest social and legal ranks. They formed a highly respectable group of gentlemen. Thomas Newton from Boston was appointed as the attorney-general. With the new government, the official title of marshal was eliminated, and George Corwin was appointed sheriff of Essex County. Herrick seems to have continued serving as a deputy. Sheriff Corwin was twenty-six years old. He was the grandson of the original George Corwin and the son of John. His mother was the granddaughter of Governor Winthrop of Massachusetts and the daughter of Governor Winthrop of Connecticut. His wife was the daughter of Bartholomew Gedney; thus, it appears that two of the judges were his uncles, and one was his father-in-law. These personal connections should be noted, as they suggest that, in carrying out his difficult responsibilities, he likely received advice and input from the highest levels.

The court-house in which the trials were held stood in the middle of what is now Washington Street, near where Lynde and Church Streets, which did not then exist, now enter it, fronting towards Essex Street. The building was also used as a town-house; Washington Street being, for this reason, then called "Town-house Lane." Off against the court-house, on the west side of the lane, was the house of the Rev. Nicholas Noyes, on the site of the residence of the late Robert Brookhouse. Opposite to it was the estate of Edward Bishop, which fronted westerly on "Town-house Lane" a little over a hundred feet, including the present Jeffrey Court, and extending a few feet beyond the corner of the house of Dr. S.M. Cate, over a portion of Church Street. Its depth, towards St. Peter Street, was about three hundred and forty-five feet. Edward Bishop held this estate in the right of his wife Bridget, the widow of Thomas Oliver who had died about 1679. Not long after this marriage, Bishop removed to his farm at Royal Side. In 1685, the "old Oliver house" was either removed or rebuilt, and a new one erected on the same premises, which was occupied by tenants in 1692. These items are given because they will help to illustrate the narrative, and enable us to understand points of evidence in the approaching trial. It is a curious[ii.254] circumstance, that the first public victim of the prosecutions, Bridget Bishop, had been the nearest neighbor and lived directly opposite, to the person who, more than any other inhabitant of the town, was responsible for the blood that was shed,—Nicholas Noyes. The jail, at that time, was on the western side of Prison Lane, now St. Peter Street, north of the point where Federal Street now enters it. The meeting-house stood on what has always been the site of the First Church. The "Ship Tavern" was on ground the front of which is occupied, at present, by "West's Block," nearly opposite the head of Central Street. It had long been owned and kept by John Gedney, Sr. Two of his sons, John and Bartholomew, had married Susanna and Hannah Clarke. John died in 1685. His widow moved into the family of her father-in-law; and, after his death in 1688, continued to keep the house. In 1698 she was married to Deliverance Parkman, and died in 1728. The tavern, in 1692, was known as the "Widow Gedney's." The estate had an extensive orchard in the rear, contiguous, along its northern boundary, to the orchard of Bridget Bishop, which occupied ground now covered by the Lyceum building, and one or two others to the east of it.

The courthouse where the trials took place was located in the middle of what is now Washington Street, near where Lynde and Church Streets, which didn’t exist at the time, now intersect, facing Essex Street. The building also served as a town hall, which is why Washington Street was then called "Town-house Lane." Across from the courthouse, on the west side of the lane, was the home of Rev. Nicholas Noyes, on the site where the late Robert Brookhouse lived. Opposite it was Edward Bishop's estate, which faced west on "Town-house Lane" for just over a hundred feet, including the current Jeffrey Court, and extended a few feet beyond the corner of Dr. S.M. Cate’s house, covering part of Church Street. Its depth toward St. Peter Street was about three hundred and forty-five feet. Edward Bishop owned this estate through his wife Bridget, the widow of Thomas Oliver, who passed away around 1679. Shortly after their marriage, Bishop moved to his farm at Royal Side. In 1685, the "old Oliver house" was either removed or rebuilt, and a new one was constructed on the same property, which was rented out by 1692. These details are provided to help illustrate the narrative and to clarify points of evidence in the upcoming trial. It’s an interesting fact that the first public victim of the prosecutions, Bridget Bishop, was the closest neighbor and lived directly across from the person who was more responsible for the bloodshed than anyone else in town—Nicholas Noyes. At that time, the jail was located on the west side of Prison Lane, now St. Peter Street, north of where Federal Street now connects. The meeting house was situated on what has always been the site of the First Church. The "Ship Tavern" occupied the area where "West's Block" now stands, nearly opposite the start of Central Street. It had long been owned and operated by John Gedney, Sr. Two of his sons, John and Bartholomew, married Susanna and Hannah Clarke. John died in 1685. His widow moved in with her father-in-law, and after his death in 1688, she continued to run the tavern. In 1698, she married Deliverance Parkman and died in 1728. By 1692, the tavern was known as "Widow Gedney's." The estate had a large orchard at the back, which connected along its northern boundary to the orchard of Bridget Bishop, covering ground now occupied by the Lyceum building and a couple of others to the east.

The Court was opened at Salem in the first week of June, 1692. In the mean time, the attorney-general, to prepare for the management of the cases, came to Salem. He addressed the following letter to Isaac Addington, Secretary of the province:[ii.255]

The court started in Salem during the first week of June, 1692. In the meantime, the attorney general arrived in Salem to get ready for the cases. He sent the following letter to Isaac Addington, Secretary of the province:[ii.255]

"Salem, 31st May, 1692.

Salem, May 31, 1692.

"Worthy Sir,—I have herewith sent you the names of the prisoners that are desired to be transmitted by habeas corpus; and have presumed to send you a copy thereof, being more, as I presume, accustomed to that practice than yourself, and beg pardon if I have infringed upon you therein. I fear we shall not this week try all that we have sent for; by reason the trials will be tedious, and the afflicted persons cannot readily give their testimonies, being struck dumb and senseless, for a season, at the name of the accused. I have been all this day at the Village, with the gentlemen of the council, at the examination of the persons, where I have beheld strange things, scarce credible but to the spectators, and too tedious here to relate; and, amongst the rest, Captain Alden and Mr. English have their mittimus. I must say, according to the present appearances of things, they are as deeply concerned as the rest; for the afflicted spare no person of what quality soever, neither conceal their crimes, though never so heinous. We pray that Tituba the Indian, and Mrs. Thacher's maid, may be transferred as evidence, but desire they may not come amongst the prisoners but rather by themselves; with the records in the Court of Assistants, 1679, against Bridget Oliver, and the records relating to the first persons committed, left in Mr. Webb's hands by the order of the council. I pray pardon that I cannot now further enlarge; and, with my cordial service, only add that I am, sir, your most humble servant,

"Good Sir,—I am sending you the names of the prisoners that need to be brought forward by habeas corpus; and I took the liberty of sending you a copy as I am, I believe, more used to this procedure than you are, and I apologize if I overstepped. I worry we might not be able to try everyone we've summoned this week because the trials will be lengthy, and the affected individuals struggle to give their testimonies, often becoming mute and dazed at the mention of the accused. I spent the entire day at the Village with the council members, examining the individuals, where I witnessed strange events, almost unbelievable except to those who were there, and too long to recount here; among them, Captain Alden and Mr. English received their mittimus. I must say, based on what I see, they are as implicated as the others; the afflicted do not spare anyone, regardless of their status, nor do they hide their misdeeds, no matter how terrible. We request that Tituba the Indian and Mrs. Thacher's maid be transferred as evidence, but we hope they will not be among the prisoners, instead coming separately; along with the records from the Court of Assistants in 1679 against Bridget Oliver, and the records concerning the first individuals committed, left in Mr. Webb's care by the council's order. I apologize for not being able to elaborate further right now; and, with my sincere regards, I will just add that I am, sir, your most humble servant,"

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Hutchinson says that there was no colony or province law against witchcraft in force when the trials began; and that the proceedings were under an act of James the First, passed in 1603. By that act, persons convicted were to be sentenced to "the pains and penalties of death as felons." By the colonial law, conviction of capital crimes did not incapacitate the party affected from disposing of property. In this and other respects, there were points of difference, which caused some inconvenience in carrying out the practice of the mother-country; and the attorney-general had to supply the want of experience in the local officers.

Hutchinson states that there were no colony or province laws against witchcraft in effect when the trials started; the proceedings were based on an act from James the First, passed in 1603. According to that act, those convicted were to receive "the pains and penalties of death as felons." Under colonial law, being convicted of capital crimes didn't prevent people from managing their property. There were several differences like this that made it challenging to apply the practices from the mother country, and the attorney-general had to fill the gaps in experience among the local officials.

It may here be mentioned, that no record of the doings of this special court are now to be found, and our only information respecting them is obtained in brief and imperfect statements of writers of the time. Perhaps Hutchinson had the use of the records. He gives the dates of the several sessions of the courts, and of the conviction and execution of the prisoners. Some of the depositions sworn to in court are on file, but without giving in many instances the date when thus offered in the trials. In some cases, they state when they were laid before the grand jury. Only a small part of them are preserved. The matter they contain was, to a considerable extent, brought forward at the preliminary examinations, and has been already adduced. In the following account of the trials, some further use will be made of these depositions.

It's worth noting that there are no existing records of this particular court's activities, and the only information we have about them comes from brief and incomplete accounts by writers of the time. Hutchinson may have had access to the records, as he provides the dates of the court sessions, as well as the conviction and execution of the prisoners. Some of the depositions sworn in court are on file, but often without the specific dates when they were presented during the trials. In certain instances, they indicate when they were presented to the grand jury. Only a small portion of them has been preserved. Much of the information they contain was largely discussed during the preliminary examinations and has already been mentioned. In the following account of the trials, these depositions will be referenced further.

Bridget Bishop was the only person tried at the first session of the Court. She was brought through[ii.257] Prison Lane, up Essex Street, by the First Church, into Town-house Lane, to the Court-house. Cotton Mather says,—

Bridget Bishop was the only person put on trial at the first session of the Court. She was taken through[ii.257] Prison Lane, up Essex Street, by the First Church, into Town-house Lane, to the Court-house. Cotton Mather says,—

"There was one strange thing with which the court was newly entertained. As this woman was under a guard, passing by the great and spacious meeting-house, she gave a look towards the house; and immediately a demon, invisibly entering the meeting-house, tore down a part of it: so that, though there was no person to be seen there, yet the people, at the noise, running in, found a board, which was strongly fastened with several nails, transported into another quarter of the house."

"There was one unusual incident that caught the court's attention. As this woman was being guarded and walked by the large meeting house, she glanced at it; and suddenly, a demon, unseen, entered the meeting house and ripped down a section of it. Even though there was no one visibly present, the people, drawn by the noise, rushed in and discovered a board that had been securely fastened with multiple nails had been moved to another part of the house."

It is probable that the streets were thronged by crowds eager to get a sight of the prisoner; and that the doors, fences, and house-tops were occupied. Some, perhaps, got into the meeting-house; and, in clambering up to the windows, a board may have been put in requisition, and left misplaced. Incredible almost as it is, this circumstance seems, from Mather's language,—"the court was entertained,"—to have been brought in evidence at the trial, and regarded as weighty and conclusive proof of Bridget's guilt.

It’s likely that the streets were crowded with people eager to catch a glimpse of the prisoner, and the doors, fences, and rooftops were filled. Some might have even gotten into the meeting house, and while climbing up to the windows, a board could have been borrowed and left in the wrong place. Hard to believe as it is, this detail seems, based on Mather's words—"the court was entertained"—to have been presented as evidence during the trial and seen as significant and convincing proof of Bridget's guilt.

One or two points in the evidence adduced against her, in addition to those mentioned heretofore, deserve consideration. The position taken, at her trial, by the Rev. John Hale of Beverly demands criticism. The charge of witchcraft had been made against her on more than one occasion before; particularly about the year 1687, when she resided near the bounds of Beverly, at Royal Side. A woman in the neighbor[ii.258]hood, subject to fits of insanity, had, while passing into one of them, brought the accusation against her; but, on the return of her reason, solemnly recanted, and deeply lamented the aspersion. In a violent recurrence of her malady, this woman committed suicide. Mr. Hale had examined the case at the time, and exonerated Bridget Bishop, who was a communicant in his church, from the charge made against her by the unhappy lunatic. He was satisfied, as he states, that "Sister Bishop" was innocent, and in no way deserved to be ill thought of. He hoped "better of said Goody Bishop at that time." Without any pretence of new evidence touching the facts of the case, he came into court in 1692, and related them, to the effect and with the intent to make them bear against her. He described the appearance of the throat of the woman, after death, as follows:—

One or two points in the evidence brought against her, in addition to those mentioned earlier, deserve attention. The stance taken by Rev. John Hale from Beverly during her trial is worth critiquing. The accusation of witchcraft had been made against her more than once before, especially around 1687, when she lived near Beverly, at Royal Side. A woman in the neighborhood, who suffered from fits of insanity, accused her while in one of these fits; however, once she regained her sanity, she took back her accusation and deeply regretted the slander. During a severe episode of her illness, this woman took her own life. Mr. Hale had looked into the case at that time and cleared Bridget Bishop, who was a member of his church, of the accusation made by the troubled woman. He was convinced, as he stated, that "Sister Bishop" was innocent and in no way deserved to be thought ill of. He hoped for "better of said Goody Bishop at that time." Without any claim of new evidence regarding the facts of the case, he appeared in court in 1692 and recounted them, intending to use them against her. He described the condition of the woman's throat after death as follows:—

"As to the wounds she died of, I observed three deadly ones; a piece of her windpipe cut out, and another wound above that through the windpipe and gullet, and the vein they call jugular. So that I then judged and still do apprehend it impossible for her, with so short a pair of scissors, to mangle herself so without some extraordinary work of the Devil or witchcraft."

"As for the wounds that led to her death, I noticed three fatal ones: a section of her windpipe was cut out, another wound above that went through her windpipe and throat, and there was damage to the vein they call the jugular. So, I concluded then and still believe now that it was impossible for her to have inflicted such injuries on herself with such a small pair of scissors without some extraordinary influence from the Devil or witchcraft."

If this was his impression at the time, it is strange that he did not then say so. But there is no appearance of any criminal proceedings having been had, by the grand jury or otherwise, against "Sister Bishop" on the occasion. On the contrary, Mr. Hale seems to have acquiesced in the opinion, that the derangement of[ii.259] the woman was aggravated, if not caused, by her being overmuch given to searching and pondering upon the dark passages and mysterious imagery of prophecy. The truth, in all probability, is, that Mr. Hale's suspicion was an after-thought. The effect produced upon his mental condition by the statements and actings of the "afflicted children" in 1692 was unconsciously transferred to 1687. The delusion, in which he was then fully participating, led him to put a different interpretation upon the suicidal wounds and horrible end of the wretched maniac, five or six years before.

If this was his impression at the time, it's odd that he didn't mention it then. However, there’s no sign of any legal action being taken, either by the grand jury or anyone else, against "Sister Bishop" at that time. On the contrary, Mr. Hale seems to have accepted the idea that the woman's mental breakdown was worsened, if not caused, by her excessive interest in exploring and dwelling on the dark passages and mysterious images of prophecy. The truth is likely that Mr. Hale's suspicion came later. The impact of the statements and actions of the "afflicted children" in 1692 was unconsciously applied to the events of 1687. The delusion he was completely caught up in led him to interpret the suicidal wounds and tragic end of the unfortunate maniac from five or six years earlier in a different way.

A piece of evidence, which illustrates the state of opinion at that time, relating to our subject, given in this case, is worthy of notice. Samuel Shattuck was a hatter and dyer. His house was on the south side of Essex Street, opposite the western entrance to the grounds of the North Church. Before her removal to the village, Bridget Bishop was in the habit of calling at Shattuck's to have articles of dress dyed. He states that she treated him and his family politely and kindly; or, as he characterized her deportment after his mind had become jaundiced against her, "in a smooth and flattering manner." He tells his story in a deposition written by him, and signed and sworn to in Court by himself and wife, June 2, 1692. It is as follows:—

A piece of evidence that reflects public opinion at that time, related to our topic, is worth noting. Samuel Shattuck was a hat maker and dyer. His house was on the south side of Essex Street, across from the western entrance to the North Church grounds. Before she moved to the village, Bridget Bishop often visited Shattuck's to have clothes dyed. He says she treated him and his family politely and kindly; or, as he described her behavior after his opinion of her soured, "in a smooth and flattering manner." He recounts his story in a deposition he wrote himself, which he and his wife signed and swore to in court on June 2, 1692. It is as follows:—

"Our eldest child, who promised as much health and understanding, both by countenance and actions, as any other children of his years, was taken in a very drooping[ii.260] condition; and, as she came oftener to the house, he grew worse and worse. As he would be standing at the door, would fall out, and bruise his face upon a great step-stone, as if he had been thrust out by an invisible hand; oftentimes falling, and hitting his face against the sides of the house, bruising his face in a very miserable manner.... This child taken in a terrible fit, his mouth and eyes drawn aside, and gasped in such a manner as if he was upon the point of death. After this, he grew worse in his fits, and, out of them, would be almost always crying. That, for many months, he would be crying till nature's strength was spent, and then would fall asleep, and then awake, and fall to crying and moaning; and that his very countenance did bespeak compassion. And at length, we perceived his understanding decayed: so that we feared (as it has since proved) that he would be quite bereft of his wits; for, ever since, he has been stupefied and void of reason, his fits still following of him. After he had been in this kind of sickness some time, he has gone into the garden, and has got upon a board of an inch thick, which lay flat upon the ground, and we have called him; he would come to the edge of the board, and hold out his hand, and make as if he would come, but could not till he was helped off the board.... My wife has offered him a cake and money to come to her; and he has held out his hand, and reached after it, but could not come till he had been helped off the board, by which I judge some enchantment kept him on.... Ever since, this child hath been followed with grievous fits, as if he would never recover more; his head and eyes drawn aside so as if they would never come to rights more; lying as if he were, in a manner, dead; falling anywhere, either into fire or water, if he be not constantly looked to; and, generally, in such an uneasy,[ii.261] restless frame, almost always running to and fro, acting so strange that I cannot judge otherwise but that he is bewitched: and, by these circumstances, do believe that the aforesaid Bridget Oliver—now called Bishop—is the cause of it: and it has been the judgment of doctors, such as lived here and foreigners, that he is under an evil hand of witchcraft."

"Our oldest child, who showed as much health and understanding, both in his appearance and actions, as any other kids his age, ended up in a very poor state; and as she visited our home more often, he continued to deteriorate. While he was standing at the door, he would fall and hit his face on a large step-stone, as if someone invisible had pushed him; often he would fall, slamming his face against the walls of the house, badly bruising himself. This child would experience terrible fits, with his mouth and eyes twisted, gasping as if he were on the brink of death. After that, his fits grew worse, and out of them, he would almost always be crying. For many months, he would cry until he exhausted himself, then fall asleep, only to wake up and start crying and moaning again; his very expression was heartbreaking. Eventually, we noticed his understanding fading: we worried (as it has turned out) that he would completely lose his mind; for since then, he has been dazed and senseless, still plagued by fits. After being sick for some time, he went into the garden and got onto a board that was an inch thick and lying flat on the ground. When we called him, he would come to the edge of the board, reach out his hand as if to come closer, but he couldn’t until someone helped him off the board... My wife offered him a cake and some money to come to her; he would reach out for it but couldn’t come until he was helped off the board, which makes me think some enchantment held him there... Since then, this child has been suffering from severe fits, as if he would never recover; his head and eyes twisted in a way that seems they might never straighten out; lying around as if he were almost dead; falling into fire or water if he’s not constantly watched; and generally, in such an uneasy, restless state, almost always running back and forth, acting so strangely that I can only conclude he is bewitched: and, based on these circumstances, I believe that the aforementioned Bridget Oliver—now known as Bishop—is the cause of it: and doctors, both local and foreign, have judged that he is under the influence of witchcraft."

The means used to give this direction to the suspicions of Shattuck and his wife are described in the notice of Bridget Bishop, in the First Part of this work.

The way this direction was given to the suspicions of Shattuck and his wife is explained in the notice of Bridget Bishop, in the First Part of this work.

Shattuck was a son of the sturdy Quaker of that name who, thirty years before, had given the government of the colony so much trouble, and seems to have inherited some of his notions. In his deposition, he mentions, as corroborative proof of Bridget Bishop's being a witch, that she used to bring to his dye-house "sundry pieces of lace," of shapes and dimensions entirely outside of his conceptions of what could be needed in the wardrobe, or for the toilet, of a plain and honest woman. He evidently regarded fashionable and vain apparel as a snare and sign of the Devil.

Shattuck was the son of the tough Quaker of the same name who, thirty years earlier, had caused the government of the colony a lot of trouble, and he seems to have inherited some of his ideas. In his statement, he mentions, as supporting evidence that Bridget Bishop was a witch, that she used to bring to his dye-house "various pieces of lace," with shapes and sizes completely beyond his understanding of what could be needed in the wardrobe or for the grooming of a plain and honest woman. He clearly saw fashionable and vain clothing as a trap and a sign of the Devil.

The imaginations of several persons in Shattuck's immediate neighborhood seem to have been wrought up to a high point against Bridget Bishop. John Cook lived on the south side of the street, directly opposite the eastern entrance to the grounds of the North Church, on its present site. John Bly's house was on a lot contiguous to the rear of Cook's, fronting on Summer Street. One of Cook's sons (John), aged eighteen, testified, that,[ii.262]

The imaginations of several people in Shattuck's immediate neighborhood seem to have been stirred up to a high degree against Bridget Bishop. John Cook lived on the south side of the street, directly across from the eastern entrance to the grounds of the North Church, at its current location. John Bly's house was on a lot next to the back of Cook's, facing Summer Street. One of Cook's sons (John), who was eighteen, testified that,[ii.262]

"About five or six years ago, one morning about sun-rising, as I was in bed, before I rose, I saw Goodwife Bishop, alias Oliver, stand in the chamber by the window: and she looked on me and grinned on me, and presently struck me on the side of the head, which did very much hurt me; and then I saw her go out under the end window at a little crevice, about so big as I could thrust my hand into. I saw her again the same day,—which was the sabbath-day,—about noon, walk across the room; and having, at the time, an apple in my hand, it flew out of my hand into my mother's lap, who sat six or eight foot distance from me, and then she disappeared: and, though my mother and several others were in the same room, yet they affirmed they saw her not."

"About five or six years ago, one morning at sunrise, while I was in bed, before getting up, I saw Goodwife Bishop, also known as Oliver, standing by the window in the room. She looked at me and grinned, then suddenly struck me on the side of the head, which hurt a lot. After that, I saw her go out through the little opening under the window, about the size of my hand. I saw her again that same day, which was a Sunday, around noon, walking across the room. At that moment, I had an apple in my hand, and it flew out of my hand into my mother's lap, who was sitting six or eight feet away from me, and then she vanished. Even though my mother and several others were in the room, they confirmed they didn't see her."

Bly and his wife Rebecca had a difficulty with Bishop in reference to payment for a hog they had bought of her. The following is from their testimony at her trial. After stating that she came to their house and quarrelled with them about it, they go on to say that the animal—

Bly and his wife Rebecca had a disagreement with Bishop regarding payment for a pig they had purchased from her. The following is from their testimony at her trial. After explaining that she came to their house and argued with them about it, they continue to say that the animal—

"was taken with strange fits, jumping up, and knocking her head against the fence, and seemed blind and deaf, and would not eat, neither let her pigs suck, but foamed at the mouth; which Goody Henderson, hearing of, said she believed she was overlooked, and that they had their cattle ill in such a manner at the Eastward, when they lived there, and used to cure them by giving of them red ochre and milk, which we also gave the sow. Quickly after eating of which, she grew better; and then, for the space of near two hours together, she, getting into the street, did set off, jumping and running between the house of said deponents and said Bishop's, as if[ii.263] she were stark mad, and, after that, was well again: and we did then apprehend or judge, and do still, that said Bishop had bewitched said sow."

"She had strange fits, jumping up and banging her head against the fence, appearing blind and deaf. She wouldn’t eat and wouldn't let her piglets nurse, but she was foaming at the mouth. Goody Henderson, hearing about this, said she believed the sow had been cursed. She mentioned that they had their animals get sick like this back East, where they used red ochre and milk to treat them, which we also gave to the sow. Shortly after eating it, she got better; for nearly two hours afterward, she ran and jumped around the street between the house of the deponents and Bishop's place as if she were completely insane, and then she recovered. We concluded then, and still believe, that Bishop had cursed the sow."

William Stacey testified, that, as he was "agoing to mill," meeting Bishop in the street, some conversation passed between them, and that,—

William Stacey testified that while he was "going to the mill," he met Bishop on the street, and they had a conversation.

"being gone about six rods from her, the said Bishop, with a small load in his cart, suddenly the off-wheel slumped or sunk down into a hole upon plain ground; that this deponent was forced to get one to help him get the wheel out. Afterwards, this deponent went back to look for said hole where his wheel sunk in, but could not find any hole."

"Having gone about six rods from her, the Bishop, with a small load in his cart, suddenly had the off-wheel slump or sink into a hole in the flat ground; this witness was forced to get someone to help him get the wheel out. Later, this witness returned to look for the hole where his wheel had sunk but couldn’t find any hole."

Stacey further deposed, that, on another occasion, he—

Stacey further stated that, on another occasion, he—

"met the said Bishop by Isaac Stearns's brick-kiln. After he had passed by her, this deponent's horse stood still with a small load going up the hill; so that, the horse striving to draw, all his gears and tackling flew in pieces, and the cart fell down."

"met the Bishop by Isaac Stearns's brick-kiln. After he passed her, my horse stopped with a small load going up the hill; so, while the horse struggled to pull, all its gear and harness broke apart, and the cart tumbled down."

These mishaps and marvels occurred in Summer Street, near the foot of Chestnut Street, where the ground was then much lower than it is now. Stacey was ascending the street, on his way through High Street to his father's mill, at the South River.

These mishaps and marvels happened on Summer Street, near the bottom of Chestnut Street, where the ground was a lot lower than it is today. Stacey was walking up the street, heading through High Street to his dad's mill by the South River.

Stacey concluded his testimony as follows:—

Stacey wrapped up his testimony like this:—

"This deponent hath met with several other of her pranks at several times, which would take up a great time to tell of.

"This witness has encountered several of her tricks at different times, which would take a long time to explain."

"This deponent doth verily believe that the said Bridget Bishop was instrumental to his daughter Priscilla's death.[ii.264] About two years ago, the child was a likely, thriving child; and suddenly screeched out, and so continued, in an unusual manner, for about a fortnight, and so died in that lamentable manner."

"This person truly believes that Bridget Bishop played a role in his daughter Priscilla's death.[ii.264] About two years ago, the child was a healthy, thriving little girl; then she suddenly screamed out and continued to do so in a strange way for about two weeks, and eventually died in that unfortunate way."

Many of the extraordinary "pranks," charged upon Bridget Bishop, had their scene near to her dwelling-house. John Louder, a servant of John Gedney, Sr., some years before, had a controversy with her about her fowls, "that used to come into our orchard or garden." He swore as follows:—

Many of the unusual "pranks" attributed to Bridget Bishop took place close to her home. John Louder, a servant of John Gedney, Sr., had a dispute with her years earlier over her chickens, "which would come into our orchard or garden." He swore as follows:—

"Some little time after which, I, going well to bed, about the dead of the night, felt a great weight upon my breast, and, awakening, looked; and, it being bright moonlight, did clearly see said Bridget Bishop, or her likeness, sitting upon my stomach; and, putting my arms off of the bed to free myself from the great oppression, she presently laid hold of my throat, and almost choked me, and I had no strength or power in my hands to resist, or help myself; and, in this condition, she held me to almost day. Some time after this, my mistress (Susannah Gedney) was in our orchard, and I was then with her; and said Bridget Bishop, being then in her orchard,—which was next adjoining to ours,—my mistress told said Bridget that I said or affirmed that she came, one night, and sat upon my breast, as aforesaid, which she denied, and I affirmed to her face to be true, and that I did plainly see her; upon which discourse with her, she threatened me. And, some time after that, I, being not very well, stayed at home on a Lord's Day; and, on the afternoon of said day, the doors being shut, I did see a black pig in the room coming towards me; so I went towards it to kick it, and it vanished away."

"Some time later, I was settling into bed around midnight when I felt a heavy weight on my chest. I woke up and, with the bright moonlight, clearly saw Bridget Bishop—or someone who looked just like her—sitting on my stomach. When I tried to push myself up to get free from the weight, she immediately grabbed my throat and nearly choked me. I had no strength to resist or help myself, and she kept holding me down until nearly daybreak. Sometime after that, I was in the orchard with my mistress, Susannah Gedney, when Bridget Bishop, who had her own orchard next to ours, was also there. My mistress told Bridget that I claimed she had come one night and sat on my chest. Bridget denied it, but I insisted to her face that it was true and that I had clearly seen her. During this conversation, she threatened me. A little while after that, I wasn't feeling well, so I stayed home on a Sunday. Later that afternoon, with the doors shut, I saw a black pig come into the room towards me. I approached it to kick it, and then it just disappeared."

Louder goes on to say, that, immediately after this, on the same occasion while he was staying at home from meeting, he saw a black thing jump into the window, and it came and stood just before his face "upon the bar." The body of it looked like a monkey, only the feet were like a cock's feet with claws, and the face somewhat more like a man's than a monkey's. He says that he was greatly affrighted, "not being able to speak or help myself by reason of fear, I suppose;" and that his mysterious visitor made quite a speech to him, representing that it was a messenger sent to say, that, if he would "be ruled by him, he should want for nothing in this world." The virtuous and indignant Louder says that he answered, "You devil, I will kill you!" and gave it a blow with his fist, but "could feel no substance; and it jumped out of the window again." It immediately came in by the porch, although the doors were shut, and said, "You had better take my counsel." Hereupon Louder struck at it with a stick, hitting the ground-sill and breaking the stick, but felt no substance. Louder concludes his testimony as follows:—

Louder goes on to say that right after this, while he was staying home from the meeting, he saw a black figure jump through the window and stand right in front of him "on the bar." Its body looked a bit like a monkey, but its feet were like a rooster's feet with claws, and its face was somewhat more human than monkey-like. He claims he was really scared, "not being able to speak or help myself because of fear, I guess;" and that his mysterious visitor gave him a speech, telling him that it was a messenger sent to say that if he would "follow its guidance, he would want for nothing in this world." The virtuous and outraged Louder says he replied, "You devil, I will kill you!" and threw a punch at it, but "felt no substance; and it jumped out of the window again." It quickly came back in through the porch, even though the doors were closed, and said, "You’d better take my advice." Louder then swung a stick at it, hitting the ground-sill and breaking the stick, but again felt no substance. Louder wraps up his account with the following:—

"The arm with which I struck was presently disenabled. Then it vanished away, and I opened the back-door and went out; and, going towards the house-end, I espied said Bridget Bishop in her orchard going towards her house, and, seeing her, had no power to set one foot forward, but returned in again: and, going to shut the door, I again did see that or the like creature, that I before did see within doors, in such a posture as it seemed to be agoing to fly at me;[ii.266] upon which I cried out, 'The whole armor of God be between me and you.' So it sprang back and flew over the apple-tree, flinging the dirt with its feet against my stomach, upon which I was struck dumb, and so continued for about three days' time; and also shook many of the apples off from the tree which it flew over."

"The arm I used to strike was quickly incapacitated. Then it disappeared, and I opened the back door and stepped outside. As I walked toward the end of the house, I saw Bridget Bishop in her orchard heading towards her house. Upon seeing her, I felt frozen and couldn’t move forward, so I went back inside. While closing the door, I spotted that same creature I had seen earlier inside, seeming ready to attack me; upon that, I yelled, 'May the whole armor of God be between us.' It recoiled and flew over the apple tree, kicking up dirt that hit my stomach, leaving me speechless for about three days. It also knocked several apples from the tree as it flew over."

Before removing to his farm, Edward and Bridget Bishop made the alterations, before mentioned, on their town estate. John Bly, Sr., aged fifty-seven years, and William Bly, aged fifteen, were employed in the operation of removing the cellar wall of "the ould house;" and testified, that they found in holes and crevices of said cellar wall "several puppets made up of rags and hogs' bristles, with headless pins in them with the points outward."

Before moving to his farm, Edward and Bridget Bishop made the earlier mentioned changes to their town property. John Bly, Sr., who was fifty-seven years old, and William Bly, who was fifteen, were hired to take down the cellar wall of "the old house." They testified that they found "several puppets made of rags and hog bristles, with headless pins in them with the points facing out."

Upon such evidence, Bridget Bishop was condemned, and executed the next week. The death-warrants, in these trials, were collected together in one envelope, marked as such. The envelope remains, but its contents have all been abstracted. The death-warrant of Bridget Bishop was probably overlooked when the others were gathered together. The consequence is that it has been preserved, and is the only one known to be in existence.

Upon this evidence, Bridget Bishop was found guilty and executed the following week. The death warrants from these trials were compiled in one envelope, labeled as such. The envelope still exists, but its contents have all been removed. The death-warrant of Bridget Bishop was likely missed when the others were collected. As a result, it has been preserved and is the only one known to still exist.

The sheriff seems to have proceeded, immediately after the execution, to the clerk's office, and indorsed his return on the warrant. When he wrote it, he added, after the word "dead,"—"and buried her on the spot." On its occurring to him that the burying of the body was not mentioned in the warrant, he drew [ii.267] his pen through the words; as is seen in the photograph. This superfluous clause, thus partially obliterated, is the only positive evidence we have of the disposal of the bodies at the time. They were undoubtedly all thrown into pits dug among the rocks, on the spot, and hastily covered by the officers having in charge the details of the executions. There were no prayers over their graves, except those uttered by themselves in their last moments.

The sheriff seems to have gone straight to the clerk's office right after the execution and signed his return on the warrant. When he wrote it, he added, after the word "dead,"—"and buried her on the spot." Realizing that the burial of the body wasn't mentioned in the warrant, he crossed out those words, as shown in the photograph. This unnecessary clause, now partially erased, is the only clear evidence we have of how the bodies were handled at that time. They were certainly all tossed into pits dug among the rocks, right there, and quickly covered by the officers responsible for the execution details. No prayers were said over their graves, except for those they uttered in their final moments.

[__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ (383K)]

 

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The descendants of Bridget Bishop are very numerous in Salem; embracing some of our oldest and most respectable families, and branching widely from them. There is no evidence of issue by her first marriage. Thomas Oliver, her second husband, had daughters by a former wife, who were represented in the next generation under the names of Hilliard, Hooper, and Jones. By his wife Bridget, he had but one child,—a daughter, Christian, born May 8, 1667. She married Thomas Mason, and died in 1693; leaving an only child, Susannah, born August 23, 1687. Edward Bishop was her guardian. She married John Becket in 1711, and by him had a son, John, and six daughters, as follows: Susannah, married to David Felt, Elizabeth to William Peele, Sarah to Nathaniel Silsbee, Rebecca to William Fairfield, Eunice to Thorndike Deland, and Hannah to William Cloutman.

The descendants of Bridget Bishop are quite numerous in Salem, including some of our oldest and most respected families, and they have spread out widely. There is no evidence of children from her first marriage. Thomas Oliver, her second husband, had daughters from a previous marriage, who were recognized in the next generation with the last names Hilliard, Hooper, and Jones. With his wife Bridget, he had only one child—a daughter named Christian, born on May 8, 1667. She married Thomas Mason and died in 1693, leaving behind an only child, Susannah, who was born on August 23, 1687. Edward Bishop was her guardian. Susannah married John Becket in 1711, and they had a son, John, and six daughters: Susannah, who married David Felt; Elizabeth, who married William Peele; Sarah, who married Nathaniel Silsbee; Rebecca, who married William Fairfield; Eunice, who married Thorndike Deland; and Hannah, who married William Cloutman.

After the condemnation of Bridget Bishop, the Court took a recess, and consulted the ministers of Boston and the neighborhood respecting the prosecutions. The response of the reverend gentlemen, while urging,[ii.268] in general terms, the importance of caution and circumspection in the methods of examination, decidedly and earnestly recommended that the proceedings should be vigorously carried on; and they were, indeed, vigorously carried on.

After Bridget Bishop was condemned, the Court took a break and consulted the ministers from Boston and nearby areas about the prosecutions. The response from the reverend gentlemen, while generally emphasizing the need for caution and carefulness in how they conducted the examinations, strongly and passionately advised that the proceedings should continue with determination; and they were indeed pursued vigorously.

Hutchinson says, that, "at the first trial, there was no colony or provincial law against witchcraft in force. The statute of James the First must therefore have been considered as in force in the province, witchcraft not being an offence at common law. Before the adjournment, the old colony law, which makes witchcraft a capital offence, was revived with the other local laws, as they were called, and made a law of the province." The General Court, which thus revived the law making witchcraft a capital offence, met, June 8, two days before the execution of Bridget Bishop. The proceedings that took place at Salem were thus assumed as a provincial matter, for which the immediate locality was not responsible, but the legislature, clergy, and people of the country at large.

Hutchinson states that "during the first trial, there was no colony or provincial law against witchcraft in effect. The statute of James the First must have therefore been seen as applicable in the province, since witchcraft wasn't considered a crime under common law. Before adjourning, the old colony law, which classified witchcraft as a capital offense, was reinstated along with other so-called local laws and became a law of the province." The General Court, which reinstated the law making witchcraft a capital offense, met on June 8, just two days before Bridget Bishop's execution. The events that occurred in Salem were treated as a provincial issue, for which the immediate local area was not held accountable, but rather the legislature, clergy, and the broader public of the country.

The Court met again on Wednesday, the 29th of June; and, after trial, sentenced to death Sarah Good, Sarah Wildes, Elizabeth How, Susanna Martin, and Rebecca Nurse, who were all executed on the 19th of July.

The Court convened again on Wednesday, June 29th; and, after the trial, sentenced Sarah Good, Sarah Wildes, Elizabeth How, Susanna Martin, and Rebecca Nurse to death, all of whom were executed on July 19th.

Calef says, that, at the trial of Sarah Good,—

Calef says that during the trial of Sarah Good—

"One of the afflicted fell in a fit; and, after coming out of it, cried out of the prisoner for stabbing her in the breast with a knife, and that she had broken the knife in stabbing of her. Accordingly, a piece of the blade of a knife was [ii.269]found about her. Immediately, information being given to the Court, a young man was called, who produced a haft and part of the blade, which the Court, having viewed and compared, saw it to be the same; and, upon inquiry, the young man affirmed that yesterday he happened to break that knife, and that he cast away the upper part,—this afflicted person being then present. The young man was dismissed and she was bidden by the Court not to tell lies; and was improved after (as she had been before) to give evidence against the prisoners."

One of the victims collapsed during a seizure; when she came to, she accused the prisoner of stabbing her in the chest with a knife and claimed she had broken the knife while stabbing her. A piece of the knife's blade was [ii.269] found near her. Immediately, the court was informed, and a young man was called in who presented the handle and part of the blade. After examining and comparing them, the court confirmed they were the same. Upon questioning, the young man stated that he had accidentally broken the knife the day before and had thrown away the top part, while the victim was present. The young man was dismissed, and the court told her not to lie; she was then prepared, as she had been before, to testify against the prisoners.

Hutchinson, in relating this circumstance, refers to a case tried before Sir Matthew Hale, when a similar kind of falsehood was proved against an "afflicted" witness; notwithstanding which he says the person on trial was found guilty, "and the judge and all the court were fully satisfied with the verdict."

Hutchinson, while discussing this situation, mentions a case tried before Sir Matthew Hale, where a similar type of deception was demonstrated against an "afflicted" witness; despite this, he notes that the person on trial was found guilty, "and the judge and all the court were fully satisfied with the verdict."

Sarah Good appears to have been an unfortunate woman, having been subject to poverty, and consequent sadness and melancholy. But she was not wholly broken in spirit. Mr. Noyes, at the time of her execution, urged her very strenuously to confess. Among other things, he told her "she was a witch, and that she knew she was a witch." She was conscious of her innocence, and felt that she was oppressed, outraged, trampled upon, and about to be murdered, under the forms of law; and her indignation was roused against her persecutors. She could not bear in silence the cruel aspersion; and, although she was just about to be launched into eternity, the torrent of her feelings could not be restrained, but burst upon[ii.270] the head of him who uttered the false accusation. "You are a liar," said she. "I am no more a witch than you are a wizard; and, if you take away my life, God will give you blood to drink." Hutchinson says that, in his day, there was a tradition among the people of Salem, and it has descended to the present time, that the manner of Mr. Noyes's death strangely verified the prediction thus wrung from the incensed spirit of the dying woman. He was exceedingly corpulent, of a plethoric habit, and died of an internal hemorrhage, bleeding profusely at the mouth.

Sarah Good seemed to be an unfortunate woman, experiencing poverty, sadness, and melancholy as a result. Yet, she wasn't completely broken in spirit. Mr. Noyes, during her execution, pushed her hard to confess. Among other things, he told her "she was a witch, and that she knew she was a witch." She was aware of her innocence and felt that she was being oppressed, wronged, trampled on, and about to be killed under the guise of the law; her anger ignited against her persecutors. She couldn't stay silent about the cruel accusation; even as she faced eternity, her feelings poured out. "You are a liar," she said. "I am no more a witch than you are a wizard; and if you take my life, God will make you drink blood." Hutchinson notes that, in his time, there was a belief among the people of Salem—which has lasted until today—that the way Mr. Noyes died bizarrely confirmed the prediction forced from the angry spirit of the dying woman. He was very overweight, had a robust build, and died from internal bleeding, hemorrhaging profusely from the mouth.

We have no information relating to the execution of Elizabeth How. Her gentle, patient, humble, benignant, devout, and tender heart bore her, no doubt, with a spirit of saint-like love and faith, through the dreadful scenes. We cannot doubt, that, in death as in life, she forgave, prayed for, and invoked blessing upon her persecutors. Neither has any thing come down in reference to the deportment of Sarah Wildes or Susanna Martin. We may take it for granted, that the former was a patient and humble, but firm and faithful sufferer; and that the latter displayed the great energy of spirit, and probably the strength of language, for which she was remarkable. Of the case of Rebecca Nurse we have more information.

We don’t have any details about Elizabeth How's execution. Her gentle, patient, humble, kind-hearted, devout, and caring nature surely helped her endure those horrific moments with a spirit of saint-like love and faith. We can only assume that, in death as in life, she forgave, prayed for, and blessed her persecutors. There’s also no record of how Sarah Wildes or Susanna Martin behaved. We can assume that Sarah was a patient and humble yet strong and faithful sufferer, while Susanna likely showcased the intense spirit and strong words for which she was known. We have more information about Rebecca Nurse's case.

The character, age, and position of this venerable matron created an impression, which called, to the utmost, all the arts and efforts of the prosecution to counteract. Many who had gone fully and earnestly in support of the proceedings against others paused[ii.271] and hesitated in reference to her; and large numbers who had been overawed into silence before, bravely came forward in her defence. The character of Nathaniel Putnam has been described. He was a man of extraordinary strength and acuteness of mind, and in all his previous life had been proof against popular excitement. The death of his brother Thomas, seven years before, had left him the head and patriarch of his great family: as such, he was known as "Landlord Putnam." Entire confidence was felt by all in his judgment, and deservedly. But he was a strong religionist, a life-long member of the Church, and extremely strenuous and zealous in his ecclesiastical relations. He was getting to be an old man; and Mr. Parris had wholly succeeded in obtaining, for the time, possession of his feelings, sympathy, and zeal in the management of the Church, and secured his full co-operation in the witchcraft prosecutions. He had been led by Parris to take the very front in the proceedings. But even Nathaniel Putnam could not stand by in silence, and see Rebecca Nurse sacrificed. A curious paper, written by him, is among those which have been preserved:—

The character, age, and position of this respected matron made a strong impression, which called upon all the efforts of the prosecution to try to counteract. Many who had fully and earnestly supported the charges against others paused[ii.271] and hesitated when it came to her; and many who had been intimidated into silence before bravely stepped up to defend her. The character of Nathaniel Putnam has been described. He was a man of remarkable strength and sharp intellect, and throughout his life had resisted popular opinion. The death of his brother Thomas seven years earlier had made him the head of his large family: he was known as "Landlord Putnam." Everyone had complete confidence in his judgment, and rightly so. However, he was a devout religious man, a lifelong member of the Church, and very passionate and enthusiastic about his church duties. He was becoming an old man, and Mr. Parris had fully succeeded in winning over his feelings, sympathy, and enthusiasm in managing the Church, securing his full support in the witchcraft trials. Parris had encouraged Putnam to take a leading role in the proceedings. But even Nathaniel Putnam could not stand by and watch Rebecca Nurse be sacrificed. An interesting document written by him is among those that have been preserved:—

"Nathaniel Putnam, Sr., being desired by Francis Nurse, Sr., to give information of what I could say concerning his wife's life and conversation, I, the abovesaid, have known this said aforesaid woman forty years, and what I have observed of her, human frailties excepted, her life and conversation have been according to her profession; and she hath brought up a great family of children and educated[ii.272] them well, so that there is in some of them apparent savor of godliness. I have known her differ with her neighbors; but I never knew or heard of any that did accuse her of what she is now charged with."

"Nathaniel Putnam, Sr., was asked by Francis Nurse, Sr., to share what I could say about his wife's life and conduct. I have known this woman for forty years, and from my observations, aside from normal human flaws, her life and conduct have matched her beliefs. She has raised a large family of children and educated[ii.272] them well, so some of them show a clear sense of godliness. I have seen her disagree with her neighbors, but I have never known or heard of anyone accusing her of what she is currently being charged with."

A similar paper was signed by thirty-nine other persons of the village and the immediate vicinity, all of the highest respectability. The men and women who dared to do this act of justice must not be forgotten:—

A similar document was signed by thirty-nine other individuals from the village and surrounding area, all of whom were of the highest respectability. The men and women who took this courageous step for justice should not be forgotten:—

"We whose names are hereunto subscribed, being desired by Goodman Nurse to declare what we know concerning his wife's conversation for time past,—we can testify, to all whom it may concern, that we have known her for many years; and, according to our observation, her life and conversation were according to her profession, and we never had any cause or grounds to suspect her of any such thing as she is now accused of.

"We, the undersigned, at the request of Goodman Nurse, want to share what we know about his wife's behavior in the past. We can confirm, to anyone interested, that we have known her for many years. From what we've seen, her life and behavior have been in line with her profession, and we've never had any reason to suspect her of anything she is currently being accused of."

"Israel Porter. Samuel Abbey.
Liz Porter. Hepzibah Rea.
Edward Bishop, Sr. Dan Andrews.
Hannah Bishop. Sarah Andrew.
Joshua Rea. Daniel Rea.
Sarah Rea. Sarah Putnam.
Sarah Leach. Jonathan Putnam.
John Putnam. Lydia Putnam.
Rebecca Putnam. Walter Phillips, Sr.
Joseph Hutchinson, Sr. Nathaniel Felton, Sr.
Lydia Hutchinson. Maggie Phillips.
William Osburn. Tabitha Phillips.
Hannah Osburn. Joseph Houlton, Jr.
Joseph Holton, Sr. Samuel Endicott.
Sarah Holton. Elizabeth Buxton.
Ben Putnam. Samuel Aborn, Sr.
Sarah Putnam. Isaac Cook.
Job Swinnerton. Liz Cook.
Esther Swinnerton. Joseph Putnam."
Joseph Herrick, Sr.  

An examination of the foregoing names in connection with the history of the Village will show conclusive proof, that, if the matter had been left to the people there, it would never have reached the point to which it was carried. It was the influence of the magistracy and the government of the colony, and the public sentiment prevalent elsewhere, overruling that of the immediate locality, that drove on the storm.

Looking at the names mentioned earlier in relation to the history of the Village will provide clear evidence that if the local people had been in charge, things would never have escalated to this level. It was the influence of the local authorities and the colonial government, along with public opinion from outside the area, that fueled the situation.

Israel Porter was the head of a great and powerful family. His wife Elizabeth was, as has been stated, a sister of Hathorne, the examining magistrate. Edward and Hannah Bishop were the venerable heads and founders of a large family. They lived in Beverly, and must each have been about ninety years of age. The list contains the names of the heads of the principal families in the village,—such as John and Rebecca Putnam, the Hutchinsons, Reas, Leaches, Houltons, and Herricks; and, in the neighborhood, such as the Feltons, Osbornes, and Samuel Endicott. The most remarkable fact it discloses is that it contains the name of one of the two complainants who procured the warrant against Rebecca Nurse,—Jonathan Putnam, the eldest son of John; and also of his wife Lydia. Subsequent reflection, and the return of his better judgment, satisfied him that he had done a great wrong to an innocent and worthy person; and he had the manliness to come out in her favor. This document ought to have been effectual in saving the life of Rebecca Nurse. It will for ever vindicate her character, and reflect honor upon each and every name subscribed to it.[ii.274]

Israel Porter was the head of a powerful family. His wife Elizabeth was, as mentioned, a sister of Hathorne, the examining magistrate. Edward and Hannah Bishop were the respected founders of a large family. They lived in Beverly and were each around ninety years old. The list includes the names of the heads of the main families in the village, such as John and Rebecca Putnam, the Hutchinsons, Reas, Leaches, Houltons, and Herricks; along with neighbors like the Feltons, Osbornes, and Samuel Endicott. The most noteworthy detail is that it includes the name of one of the two complainants who obtained the warrant against Rebecca Nurse—Jonathan Putnam, the eldest son of John, along with his wife Lydia. After thinking it over, and with the return of his better judgment, he realized he had wronged an innocent and deserving person, and he had the courage to support her. This document should have been enough to save Rebecca Nurse's life. It will forever clear her name and bring honor to everyone who signed it.[ii.274]

One of the most cruel features in the prosecution of the witchcraft trials, and which was practised in all countries where they took place, was the examination of the bodies of the prisoners by a jury of the same sex, under the direction and in the presence of a surgeon or physician. The person was wholly exposed, and every part subjected to the most searching scrutiny. The process was always an outrage upon human nature; and in the cases of the victims on this occasion, many of them of venerable years and delicate feelings, it was shocking to every natural and instinctive sentiment. There is reason to fear that it was often conducted in a rough, coarse, and brutal manner. Marshal Herrick testifies, that, "by order of Their Majesties' justices," he, accompanied by the jail-keeper Dounton, and Constable Joseph Neal, made an examination of the body of George Jacobs. In persons of his great age, there would, in all likelihood, be shrivelled, desiccated, and callous places. They found one on the old man, under his right shoulder. Herrick made oath that it was a veritable witch teat, and his deposition describes it as follows: "About a quarter of an inch long or better, with a sharp point drooping downwards, so that I took a pin, and run it through the said teat; but there was neither water, blood, or corruption, nor any other matter." As proof positive that this was "the Devil's mark," Herrick and the turnkey testify that "the said Jacobs was not in the least sensible of what had been done"!

One of the most brutal aspects of the witchcraft trials, which happened in all the countries where they occurred, was the examination of the prisoners' bodies by a jury of the same gender, under the supervision and in the presence of a surgeon or physician. The person was completely exposed, and every part of their body underwent intense scrutiny. This process was always a violation of human dignity; for many of the victims this time, who were older and sensitive, it was appalling to every natural and instinctive sentiment. There are reasons to believe that it was often done in a rough, crude, and brutal way. Marshal Herrick reports that "by order of Their Majesties' justices," he, along with the jailer Dounton and Constable Joseph Neal, examined the body of George Jacobs. In someone of his advanced age, there would likely be shriveled, dried, and hardened areas. They found one on the old man, beneath his right shoulder. Herrick swore that it was a genuine witch's teat, describing it as follows: "About a quarter of an inch long or more, with a sharp point drooping downwards, so that I took a pin and ran it through the said teat; but there was neither water, blood, or corruption, nor any other substance." As definitive proof that this was "the Devil's mark," Herrick and the jailer testified that "the said Jacobs was not at all aware of what had been done"!

The mind loathes the thought of handling in this[ii.275] way refined and sensitive females of matronly character, or persons of either sex, with infirmities of body rendered sacred by years. The results of the examination were reduced to written reports, going into details, and, among other evidences in the trials, spread before the Court and jury.[C]

The mind hates the idea of dealing in this[ii.275] manner with delicate and sensitive women of a motherly nature or individuals of any gender who have physical limitations that have become revered with age. The findings were compiled into written reports, detailing everything and presenting, alongside other evidence in the trials, before the Court and jury.[C]

The evidence in the case of Rebecca Nurse was made up of the usual representations and actings of the "afflicted children." Mary Walcot and Abigail Williams charged her with having committed several murders; mentioning particularly Benjamin Houlton, John Harwood, and Rebecca Shepard, and averring that she was aided therein by her sister Cloyse. Mr. Parris, too, gave in a deposition against her; from which it ap[ii.276]pears, that, a certain person being sick, Mercy Lewis was sent for. She was struck dumb on entering the chamber. She was asked to hold up her hand, if she saw any of the witches afflicting the patient. Presently she held up her hand, then fell into a trance; and after a while, coming to herself, said that she saw the spectres of Goody Nurse and Goody Carrier having hold of the head of the sick man. Mr. Parris swore to this statement with the utmost confidence in Mercy's declarations.

The evidence in the case of Rebecca Nurse consisted of the usual claims and actions from the "afflicted children." Mary Walcot and Abigail Williams accused her of committing several murders, specifically naming Benjamin Houlton, John Harwood, and Rebecca Shepard, and claimed that she was helped in this by her sister Cloyse. Mr. Parris also provided a statement against her; it indicates that when a certain person became ill, Mercy Lewis was called. She was rendered speechless upon entering the room. When asked to raise her hand if she saw any of the witches tormenting the patient, she eventually raised her hand, then fell into a trance. After a while, she came to and said she saw the spirits of Goody Nurse and Goody Carrier holding the head of the sick man. Mr. Parris swore to this account with complete confidence in Mercy's claims.

The testimony of three persons particularly is required to be given, as illustrating the extraordinary extent to which the minds of those involved in the affair were under infatuation or hallucination.

The testimony of three people is specifically needed to show just how deeply the minds of those involved in the situation were affected by obsession or delusion.

Mrs. Ann Putnam was about thirty years of age. For six months she had been constantly absorbed in what was then, as now, regarded as spiritualism. Her[ii.277] house had been the scene of a perpetual series of wonders supposed to be disclosures and manifestations of a supernatural character. Apparitions, spectral shapes of living witches, ghosts of their murdered victims, and demons generally, were of daily and hourly occurrence. The dread secrets of the world unknown had been revealed to her in waking fancies and dreams by night. An originally sensitive and imaginative nature had been wrought into a condition in which her mental faculties were at once enfeebled and exalted. Besides all this, there were the trials to which her constitution had been subjected by the experiences of maternity so early begun, and the pressure upon her mind and heart of the anxieties and cares incident to a large family of young children. An accumulation of disappointments, vexations, and consuming griefs, spread like a dark cloud over her life,—the deaths of her own children, and of her sister Bayley and her children, and of her sister Baker's children; and, finally, the long-continued, and constantly recurring sufferings, tortures, convulsions, fits, and trances of her daughter Ann, and her servant-woman Mercy Lewis, under, as she fully believed, a diabolical hand.—These things must have given to her countenance and tones of voice a wonderful impressiveness to all who looked upon or listened to them. Her eminent social position, her general reputation,—for Lawson, who knew her well, calls her "a very sober and pious woman," so far as he could judge,—the stamp of profound earnestness marked on all her[ii.278] language, the glow which morbid excitement long experienced gave to her expression, must have arrested, to a high degree, the attention of the assembled multitude. An air of sadness, in the wild ravings of imagination, pervades her testimony. I present her deposition in full, as one of the phenomena of this strange transaction:—

Mrs. Ann Putnam was about thirty years old. For six months, she had been constantly consumed by what was then, and still is today, seen as spiritualism. Her[ii.277] house had been the site of a continuous series of events believed to be supernatural revelations and manifestations. Ghostly apparitions, spectral forms of living witches, the spirits of their murdered victims, and demons were seen daily, even hourly. The terrifying secrets of the unknown world had been revealed to her in waking visions and dreams at night. Originally sensitive and imaginative, her nature had transformed into a state where her mental abilities were both weakened and heightened. Additionally, her health had been tested by the challenges of early motherhood and the stress of caring for a large family of young children. A buildup of disappointments, frustrations, and overwhelming grief loomed over her life, including the deaths of her own children, her sister Bayley and her children, and her sister Baker's children; and finally, the prolonged and frequently recurring sufferings, tortures, convulsions, fits, and trances of her daughter Ann and her servant Mercy Lewis, which she firmly believed were caused by a demonic force. These experiences must have given her face and voice a striking intensity that captivated anyone who saw or heard her. Her prominent social status, her general reputation—as Lawson, who knew her well, described her as "a very sober and pious woman" to the best of his judgment—the deep seriousness evident in all her[ii.278] words, and the unsettling excitement reflected in her expression likely captured the attention of the gathered crowd. A sense of sadness, mixed with wild imaginings, colored her testimony. I present her deposition in full, as an example of this bizarre situation:—

"The Deposition of Ann Putnam, the wife of Thomas Putnam, aged about thirty years, who testifieth and saith, that, on the 18th March, 1692, I being wearied out in helping to tend my poor afflicted child and maid, about the middle of the afternoon I lay me down on the bed to take a little rest; and immediately I was almost pressed and choked to death, that, had it not been for the mercy of a gracious God and the help of those that were with me, I could not have lived many moments: and presently I saw the apparition of Martha Corey, who did torture me so as I cannot express, ready to tear me all to pieces, and then departed from me a little while; but, before I could recover strength or well take breath, the apparition of Martha Corey fell upon me again with dreadful tortures, and hellish temptation to go along with her. And she also brought to me a little red book in her hand and a black pen, urging me vehemently to write in her book; and several times that day she did most grievously torture me, almost ready to kill me. And, on the 19th March, Martha Corey again appeared to me; and also Rebecca Nurse, the wife of Francis Nurse, Sr.: and they both did torture me a great many times this day with such tortures as no tongue can express, because I would not yield to their hellish temptations, that, had I not been upheld by an Almighty arm, I could not have lived[ii.279] while night. The 20th March, being sabbath-day, I had a great deal of respite between my fits. 21st March, being the day of the examination of Martha Corey, I had not many fits, though I was very weak; my strength being, as I thought, almost gone: but, on the 22d March, 1692, the apparition of Rebecca Nurse did again set upon me in a most dreadful manner, very early in the morning, as soon as it was well light. And now she appeared to me only in her shift, and brought a little red book in her hand, urging me vehemently to write in her book; and, because I would not yield to her hellish temptations, she threatened to tear my soul out of my body, blasphemously denying the blessed God, and the power of the Lord Jesus Christ to save my soul; and denying several places of Scripture which I told her of, to repel her hellish temptations. And for near two hours together, at this time, the apparition of Rebecca Nurse did tempt and torture me, and also the greater part of this day, with but very little respite. 23d March, am again afflicted by the apparitions of Rebecca Nurse and Martha Corey, but chiefly by Rebecca Nurse. 24th March, being the day of the examination of Rebecca Nurse, I was several times afflicted in the morning by the apparition of Rebecca Nurse, but most dreadfully tortured by her in the time of her examination, insomuch that the honored magistrates gave my husband leave to carry me out of the meeting-house; and, as soon as I was carried out of the meeting-house doors, it pleased Almighty God, for his free grace and mercy's sake, to deliver me out of the paws of those roaring lions, and jaws of those tearing bears, that, ever since that time, they have not had power so to afflict me until this 31st May, 1692. At the same moment that I was hearing my evidence read by the honored magistrates, to take my[ii.280] oath, I was again re-assaulted and tortured by my before-mentioned tormentor, Rebecca Nurse."

"The Testimony of Ann Putnam, the wife of Thomas Putnam, around thirty years old, testifies and says that on March 18, 1692, after being exhausted from caring for my sick child and maid, I lay down on the bed for a short rest in the early afternoon. Almost immediately, I felt nearly crushed and choked to death; if it hadn't been for the mercy of a gracious God and the help of those around me, I wouldn't have survived for more than a few moments. Then I saw the ghost of Martha Corey, who tortured me in ways I can't describe, ready to tear me apart, and then she left me for a bit. But before I could recover or catch my breath, Martha Corey’s apparition attacked me again with horrible torments and evil temptations to join her. She even brought a little red book and a black pen, insisting that I write in her book. Several times that day, she tortured me terribly, almost to the point of death. On March 19, Martha Corey appeared to me again, along with Rebecca Nurse, the wife of Francis Nurse, Sr. They both tormented me many times that day with such agonies that no words can describe, because I refused to give in to their wicked temptations. If I hadn't been supported by an Almighty power, I wouldn't have survived the night. On March 20, being the Sabbath day, I had a bit of a break between my fits. On March 21, the day Martha Corey was examined, I didn't have many fits, although I felt incredibly weak, thinking my strength was nearly gone. But on March 22, 1692, the ghost of Rebecca Nurse attacked me again in a terrifying way, very early in the morning, as soon as it was light. She appeared to me only in her nightgown, bringing a little red book and insisting that I write in it. Since I refused to give in to her wicked temptations, she threatened to rip my soul out of my body, blasphemously denying the blessed God and the power of Jesus Christ to save my soul, and rejecting several Scripture passages I mentioned to fend off her hellish temptations. For nearly two hours at this time, the apparition of Rebecca Nurse tempted and tortured me, and for most of that day, I had very little respite. On March 23, I was again tormented by the apparitions of Rebecca Nurse and Martha Corey, but mostly by Rebecca Nurse. On March 24, the day of Rebecca Nurse's examination, I was disturbed several times in the morning by the ghost of Rebecca Nurse, but I was most horrifically tortured by her during her examination. The honored magistrates allowed my husband to carry me out of the meeting-house; and as soon as I crossed the doors, it pleased Almighty God, for His free grace and mercy, to deliver me from the paws of those roaring lions and the jaws of those tearing bears. Since then, they have not had the power to afflict me until May 31, 1692. At the same moment I was hearing my testimony read by the honored magistrates to take my[ii.279] oath, I was again assaulted and tortured by my previously mentioned tormentor, Rebecca Nurse."

"The Testimony of Ann Putnam, Jr., witnesseth and saith, that, being in the room when her mother was afflicted, she saw Martha Corey, Sarah Cloyse, and Rebecca Nurse, or their apparition, upon her mother."

"The Testimony of Ann Putnam, Jr., testifies and says that, while she was in the room when her mother was being tormented, she saw Martha Corey, Sarah Cloyse, and Rebecca Nurse, or their ghostly figures, appearing before her mother."

Mrs. Ann Putnam made another deposition under oath, at the same trial, which shows that she was determined to overwhelm the prisoner by the multitude of her charges. She says that Rebecca Nurse's apparition declared to her that "she had killed Benjamin Houlton, John Fuller, and Rebecca Shepard;" and that she and her sister Cloyse, and Edward Bishop's wife, had killed young John Putnam's child; and she further deposed as followeth:—

Mrs. Ann Putnam gave another sworn statement during the same trial, which shows that she was intent on overwhelming the accused with numerous allegations. She claims that Rebecca Nurse's spirit told her that "she had killed Benjamin Houlton, John Fuller, and Rebecca Shepard;" and that she, along with her sister Cloyse and Edward Bishop's wife, had killed young John Putnam's child; and she further stated as follows:—

"Immediately there did appear to me six children in winding-sheets, which called me aunt, which did most grievously affright me; and they told me that they were my sister Baker's children of Boston; and that Goody Nurse, and Mistress Carey of Charlestown, and an old deaf woman at Boston, had murdered them, and charged me to go and tell these things to the magistrates, or else they would tear me to pieces, for their blood did cry for vengeance. Also there appeared to me my own sister Bayley and three of her children in winding-sheets, and told me that Goody Nurse had murdered them."

"Suddenly, six children wrapped in shrouds appeared to me, calling me 'aunt,' which terrified me greatly. They told me they were my sister Baker's children from Boston, and that Goody Nurse, Mistress Carey from Charlestown, and an old deaf woman in Boston had killed them. They urged me to go tell the magistrates about this, or else they would tear me apart, as their blood cried out for justice. Then, my own sister Bayley and three of her children in shrouds appeared and told me that Goody Nurse had killed them too."

There is in this deposition a passage which illustrates one of the doctrines held at the time on the subject of witchcraft. Mrs. Ann Putnam "testifieth and saith, that, on the first day of June, 1692, the[ii.281] apparition of Rebecca Nurse did again fall upon me, and almost choke me; and she told me, that, now she was come out of prison, she had power to afflict me, and that now she would afflict me all this day long." The reference here is probably to the fact, that, on the 1st of June, she with many other prisoners was transferred from the jail in Boston to that in Salem; and that, "all that day long" being outside of prison walls, she had greater power to afflict than when chained in a cell. This was undoubtedly the received opinion, and it is curiously illustrated in the foregoing passage.

There’s a part in this testimony that shows one of the beliefs about witchcraft during that time. Mrs. Ann Putnam "testifies and says that, on June 1, 1692, the apparition of Rebecca Nurse appeared to me again and almost choked me; she told me that now that she was out of prison, she had the power to torment me, and that she would torment me all day long." This likely refers to the fact that on June 1, she and many other prisoners were moved from the jail in Boston to the one in Salem; being outside of prison walls "all day long" gave her greater power to afflict than when she was locked in a cell. This was probably the common belief at the time, and it’s interestingly highlighted in this passage.

The only breath of disparagement against the character of Goodwife Nurse that can be found in any of the papers is in the following deposition:—

The only negative comment about Goodwife Nurse's character that can be found in any of the records is in the following statement:—

"The Deposition of Sarah Houlton, relict of Benjamin Houlton, deceased, who testifieth and saith, that, about this time three years, my dear and loving husband, Benjamin Houlton, deceased, was as well as ever I knew him in my life till one Saturday morning, that Rebecca Nurse, who now stands charged for witchcraft, came to our house, and fell a railing at him because our pigs got into her field. Though our pigs were sufficiently yoked, and their fence was down in several places, yet all we could say to her could no ways pacify her; but she continued railing and scolding a great while together, calling to her son Benj. Nurse to go and get a gun and kill our pigs, and let none of them go out of the field, though my poor husband gave her never a misbeholding word. And, within a short time after this, my poor husband going out very early in the morning, as he[ii.282] was coming in again, he was taken with a strange fit in the entry; being struck blind and stricken down two or three times, so that, when he came to himself, he told me he thought he should never have come into the house any more. And, all summer after, he continued in a languishing condition, being much pained at his stomach, and often struck blind: but, about a fortnight before he died, he was taken with strange and violent fits, acting much like to our poor bewitched persons when we thought they would have died; and the doctor that was with him could not find what his distemper was. And, the day before he died, he was very cheerly; but, about midnight, he was again most violently seized upon with violent fits, till the next night, about midnight, he departed this life by a cruel death.

The Testimony of Sarah Houlton, widow of Benjamin Houlton, deceased, testifies and says that about three years ago, my dear and loving husband, Benjamin Houlton, deceased, was as well as I had ever known him until one Saturday morning when Rebecca Nurse, who is now accused of witchcraft, came to our house and began to yell at him because our pigs got into her field. Even though our pigs were properly secured and her fence was broken in several places, nothing we said could calm her down; she kept yelling and cursing for quite a while, calling for her son Benj. Nurse to go get a gun and kill our pigs, insisting that none of them should leave her field, even though my poor husband never said a single harsh word to her. Shortly after that, my poor husband went out early in the morning, and as he was coming back in, he was struck with a strange fit in the entrance; he became blind and fell down two or three times, and when he came to his senses, he told me he thought he would never make it back into the house again. For the entire summer after, he remained in a weak condition, suffering from stomach pains and often going blind; about two weeks before he died, he experienced strange and violent fits similar to those of our unfortunate bewitched people when we thought they were about to die. The doctor who attended him could not determine what his illness was. The day before he died, he was in good spirits, but around midnight, he was seized again with severe fits, and then the following night, around midnight, he passed away in great agony.

"Jurat in Curia."

"Jurat in Court."

In explanation of the import of this testimony, it is to be observed, that the estate of Benjamin Houlton was contiguous to that of Francis Nurse. They were separated by a fence, which, as in such cases, was required for half its length to be kept in order by one party, the remaining half by the other. What the exact facts were cannot be ascertained, as we have the story of one side only. The widow Houlton appears to have been a tender-hearted, and, for aught we know, good woman. Some years afterwards, she was married, as his second wife, to Benjamin Putnam,—a very respectable person, and, on the death of his father Nathaniel, the head of that branch of the family. He was, for many years, deacon of the church. But she was, it must be conceded, a prejudiced witness; and[ii.283] her judgment for the time was wholly beclouded by the prevalent superstitions. The garden had been, from the days of Townsend Bishop, a choice portion of the Nurse estate. In all farms, it was a most important and valuable item; and was generally under the special care and management of the wife, daughters, and younger lads of the husbandman. Rebecca Nurse was an efficient helpmeet; contributing her whole share to the success of the great enterprise of clearing the estate, as well as in bringing up and educating a large family. It was, no doubt, very provoking to her, as it would be to any one, to have vegetable and flower beds devastated by the ravages of a neighbor's stray pigs. To what extent her "railing and scolding" went, she was not allowed to contribute her statement, to enable us to judge. The affair probably produced considerable gossip, and seems to be alluded to in Nathaniel Putnam's certificate in behalf of Rebecca Nurse. There is reason to believe that the widow Houlton was one of the first to realize what great injustice had been done by her and others to the good name of Rebecca Nurse.

To explain the importance of this testimony, it should be noted that Benjamin Houlton's property was next to Francis Nurse's. They were separated by a fence, which, as is typical in such situations, required one party to maintain half of it, while the other party took care of the remaining half. The exact facts are unclear since we have only one side of the story. Widow Houlton seems to have been a kind-hearted woman, and for all we know, a good person as well. A few years later, she married Benjamin Putnam as his second wife. He was a very respected man and became the head of his family after his father Nathaniel passed away. He served as a deacon of the church for many years. However, it's fair to say she was a biased witness, and her judgment was clouded by the superstitions of the time. The garden had been a prized part of the Nurse estate since Townsend Bishop's days. In any farm, it was a vital and valuable asset and was usually managed by the wife, daughters, and younger sons of the farmer. Rebecca Nurse was a capable partner, contributing significantly to the demanding task of clearing the estate and raising a large family. It must have been quite frustrating for her, as it would be for anyone, to have her vegetable and flower beds ruined by a neighbor's stray pigs. We aren't allowed to know exactly how much she "railed and scolded," so we can't judge the extent of it. The situation likely caused quite a bit of gossip and seems to be referenced in Nathaniel Putnam's certificate for Rebecca Nurse. There’s reason to believe that widow Houlton was one of the first to realize the significant injustice done to Rebecca Nurse’s reputation by herself and others.

Notwithstanding this evidence, so deeply were the jury impressed with the eminent virtue and true Christian excellence of this venerable woman, that, in spite of the clamors of the outside crowd, the monstrous statements of accusing witnesses, and the strong leaning of the Court against her, the jury brought in a verdict of "Not guilty." Calef, and Hutchinson after him, describe the effect, and what followed:[ii.284]

Notwithstanding this evidence, the jury was so moved by the remarkable character and genuine Christian values of this respected woman that, despite the shouts from the crowd outside, the outrageous claims of the accusing witnesses, and the Court's clear bias against her, they returned a verdict of "Not guilty." Calef and Hutchinson, following his lead, detail the impact and what happened next:[ii.284]

"Immediately, all the accusers in the Court, and, suddenly after, all the afflicted out of Court, made an hideous outcry; to the amazement, not only of the spectators, but the Court also seemed strangely surprised. One of the judges expressed himself not satisfied: another of them, as he was going off the bench, said they would have her indicted anew. The chief-justice said he would not impose on the jury, but intimated as if they had not well considered one expression of the prisoner when she was upon trial; viz., that when one Hobbs, who had confessed herself to be a witch, was brought into Court to witness against her, the prisoner, turning her head to her, said, 'What! do you bring her? She is one of us;' or words to that effect. This, together with the clamors of the accusers, induced the jury to go out again, after their verdict, 'Not guilty.'"

"Right away, all the accusers in the courtroom, and soon after, all the affected people outside the courtroom, made a loud uproar; this amazed not only the spectators but also left the court looking quite surprised. One of the judges expressed his dissatisfaction; another, as he was leaving the bench, stated they would have her charged again. The chief justice said he wouldn't pressure the jury, but hinted that they might not have fully considered one statement from the defendant during the trial; specifically, when a woman named Hobbs, who had admitted to being a witch, was brought into the courtroom to testify against her. The defendant turned to her and said, 'What! You’re bringing her? She’s one of us,' or something like that. This, along with the shouts of the accusers, led the jury to deliberate again after their verdict of 'Not guilty.'"

The foreman of the jury, Thomas Fisk, made this statement on the 4th of July, a few days after the trial:—

The jury foreman, Thomas Fisk, made this statement on July 4th, just a few days after the trial:—

"After the honored Court had manifested their dissatisfaction of the verdict, several of the jury declared themselves desirous to go out again, and thereupon the Court gave leave; but, when we came to consider the case, I could not tell how to take her words as an evidence against her, till she had a further opportunity to put her sense upon them, if she would take it. And then, going into Court, I mentioned the words aforesaid, which by one of the Court were affirmed to have been spoken by her, she being then at the bar, but made no reply nor interpretation of them; whereupon these words were to me a principal evidence against her."

"After the respected Court expressed their dissatisfaction with the verdict, several jurors stated that they wanted to deliberate again, and the Court allowed it. However, when we reviewed the case, I struggled to interpret her words as evidence against her until she had another chance to clarify them, if she chose to. Then, returning to the Court, I referenced those words, which one of the Court confirmed she had spoken while she stood at the bar, but she offered no response or explanation. As a result, those words became the main evidence against her."

Upon being informed of the use made of her words, the prisoner put in the following declaration:—

Upon hearing how her words were used, the prisoner made the following statement:—

"These presents do humbly show to the honored Court and jury, that I being informed that the jury brought me in guilty upon my saying that Goodwife Hobbs and her daughter were of our company; but I intended no otherwise than as they were prisoners with us, and therefore did then, and yet do, judge them not legal evidence against their fellow-prisoners. And I being something hard of hearing and full of grief, none informing me how the Court took up my words, and therefore had no opportunity to declare what I intended when I said they were of our company."

"These presents humbly show to the respected Court and jury that I was informed the jury found me guilty because I stated that Goodwife Hobbs and her daughter were with us; however, I meant nothing more than that they were prisoners alongside us. Therefore, I have always believed they are not valid evidence against their fellow prisoners. Also, being somewhat hard of hearing and overwhelmed with grief, no one let me know how the Court interpreted my words, so I had no chance to explain what I meant when I said they were with us."

It was perfectly natural for her to have spoken of them as "of our company," not only from the fact that they had long been crowded together in the same jails, but as they had accompanied each other in the transferrence from one jail to another, from time to time. A few days before, a large party, of which she was one, had been brought from Boston, spending the whole day together on the route. Sarah Good, John Procter and wife, Susanna Martin, Bridget Bishop, and Alice Parker happen to be mentioned as belonging to it. Calef further states:—

It was totally natural for her to refer to them as "our group," not only because they had been packed into the same jails for a long time, but also because they had moved together from one jail to another over time. A few days earlier, a big group, including her, had been brought from Boston, spending the entire day together on the way. Sarah Good, John Procter and his wife, Susanna Martin, Bridget Bishop, and Alice Parker happened to be mentioned as part of it. Calef further states:—

"After her condemnation, the governor saw cause to grant a reprieve, which, when known (and some say immediately upon granting), the accusers renewed their dismal outcries against her; insomuch that the governor was by some Salem gentlemen prevailed with to recall the reprieve, and she was executed with the rest.[ii.286]

"After her condemnation, the governor found a reason to grant a reprieve, which, when announced (and some say almost immediately after it was granted), led the accusers to ramp up their harsh protests against her. As a result, some gentlemen from Salem convinced the governor to revoke the reprieve, and she was executed along with the others.[ii.286]

"The testimonials of her Christian behavior, both in the course of her life and at her death, and her extraordinary care in educating her children, and setting them a good example, under the hands of so many, are so numerous, that for brevity they are here omitted."

"The testimonials of her Christian conduct, both throughout her life and at her death, along with her exceptional dedication to educating her children and being a positive role model despite the influence of many others, are so numerous that they are omitted here for the sake of brevity."

The extraordinary conduct of "the Salem gentlemen," in preventing the intended exercise of executive discretion and clemency on this occasion, is explained, it is probable, by the fact, stated by Neal in his "History of New England," that there was an organized association of private individuals, a committee of vigilance, in Salem, during the continuance of the delusion, who had undertaken to ferret out and prosecute all suspected persons. He says that many were arrested and thrown into prison by their influence and interference. It is hardly to be doubted, that the persons who busied themselves to prevent the reprieve of Rebecca Nurse acted under the authority and by the direction of this self-constituted body of inquisitors. The agency of such unauthorized and irresponsible combinations is always of questionable expediency. When acting in the same line with an excited populace, they are extremely dangerous.

The unusual actions of "the Salem gentlemen," in stopping the planned use of executive discretion and mercy in this situation, can likely be explained by the fact, as noted by Neal in his "History of New England," that there was an organized group of private individuals, a vigilance committee, in Salem, during the time of the delusion, who took it upon themselves to track down and prosecute anyone they suspected. He mentions that many were arrested and imprisoned because of their influence and interference. It’s hard to doubt that those who worked to prevent the reprieve of Rebecca Nurse were acting under the authority and direction of this self-appointed group of inquisitors. The role of such unauthorized and unaccountable groups is always of questionable value. When they act alongside an excited crowd, they can be extremely dangerous.

There is no more disgraceful record in the judicial annals of the country, than that which relates the trial of this excellent woman. The wave of popular fury made a clear breach over the judgment-seat. The loud and malignant outcry of an infatuated mob, inside and outside of the Court-house, instead of being yielded to, ought to have been, not only sternly rebuked, but[ii.287] visited with prompt and exemplary punishment. The judges were not only overcome and intimidated from the faithful discharge of their sacred duty by a clamoring crowd, but they played into their hands. Hutchinson justly remarks, that their conduct was in violation of that rule to execute "law and justice in mercy," which ought always to be written on their hearts. "In a capital case, the Court often refuses a verdict of 'Guilty;' but rarely, if ever, sends a jury out again upon one of 'Not guilty.'" The statement made by the foreman of the jury, with the subsequent explanation of the prisoner, taken in connection with the ground on which the chief-justice sent the jury out again after rendering their verdict of "Not guilty," made it the duty of the Court and the executive to give to her the benefit of that verdict.

There is no more disgraceful record in the judicial history of the country than the trial of this remarkable woman. The wave of public anger overwhelmed the courtroom. The loud and spiteful shouts of a misguided mob, both inside and outside the courthouse, shouldn’t have been given in to; they should have been not only firmly reprimanded but also visited with immediate and appropriate punishment. The judges were not only swayed and intimidated from fulfilling their important duty by the shouting crowd, but they also played right into their hands. Hutchinson rightly points out that their actions went against the rule to execute "law and justice in mercy," which should always be at the forefront of their minds. "In a serious case, the court often refuses a verdict of 'Guilty;' but rarely, if ever, sends a jury back out again for a verdict of 'Not guilty.'" The statement made by the jury foreman, along with the prisoner’s subsequent explanation, combined with the reason the chief justice sent the jury back out after they had rendered their 'Not guilty' verdict, made it the duty of the court and the executive to uphold that verdict for her.

At the trial of her mother, Sarah Nurse—aged twenty-eight years or thereabouts—offered this piece of testimony: that, "being in the Court, this 29th of June, 1692, I saw Goodwife Bibber pull pins out of her clothes, and held them between her fingers, and clasped her hands round her knee; and then she cried out, and said, Goody Nurse pinched her." In all these trials, Mercy Lewis was a principal witness and actor; yet we find, among the papers, testimony from the most respectable and reliable persons, that she was not to be trusted. There was also testimony which ought to have broken the force of the depositions of Ann Putnam and her mother. Four days after the examination and commitment of Rebecca Nurse, John[ii.288] Tarbell and Samuel Nurse went to the house of Thomas Putnam to find out in what way their mother had been made the object of such shocking accusations. They were men whose credibility was never brought in question. Their declarations, on this occasion, were not disputed, and, if not true, might have been overthrown; for there were many witnesses of the facts they stated. Tarbell swore as follows: "Upon discourse of many things, I asked whether the girl that was afflicted did first speak of Goody Nurse, before others mentioned her to her. They said she told them she saw the apparition of a pale-faced woman that sat in her grandmother's seat, but did not know her name. Then I replied and said, 'But who was it that told her that it was Goody Nurse?' Mercy Lewis said it was Goody Putnam that said it was Goody Nurse. Goody Putnam said that it was Mercy Lewis that told her. Thus they turned it upon one another, saying, 'It was you,' and 'It was you that told her.'" Samuel Nurse testified to the same.

At her mother’s trial, Sarah Nurse—about twenty-eight years old—gave this testimony: "Being in the courtroom on June 29, 1692, I saw Goodwife Bibber pull pins out of her clothes, hold them between her fingers, and clasp her hands around her knee; then she shouted, saying Goody Nurse pinched her." Throughout these trials, Mercy Lewis was a key witness and participant; however, we find testimonies from highly respected and reliable individuals stating she was not trustworthy. There was also evidence that should have weakened the statements from Ann Putnam and her mother. Four days after Rebecca Nurse's examination and commitment, John[ii.288] Tarbell and Samuel Nurse went to Thomas Putnam's house to understand how their mother became the target of such awful accusations. They were men whose integrity was never questioned. Their statements on this matter went unchallenged and could have been disproven; many witnesses were present to verify their claims. Tarbell testified: "In discussing various things, I asked whether the afflicted girl mentioned Goody Nurse first before anyone else did. They said she told them she saw the spirit of a pale-faced woman sitting in her grandmother's chair, but she didn’t know her name. I then asked, 'But who told her that it was Goody Nurse?' Mercy Lewis said it was Goody Putnam who identified her as Goody Nurse. Goody Putnam stated it was Mercy Lewis who informed her. They kept passing the blame back and forth, saying, 'It was you,' and 'No, it was you who told her.'" Samuel Nurse confirmed the same.

There was another piece of evidence, which, though brought against Rebecca Nurse, bears harder, as we read it now, upon Ann Putnam than any one else, and makes it more difficult to palliate her conduct on the supposition of partial insanity. It is, all along, one of the obscure problems of our subject to determine how far delusion may have been accompanied by fraud and imposture. Edward Putnam testified, that "Ann Putnam, Jr., was bitten by Rebecca Nurse, as she said, about two of the clock of the day" after Rebecca[ii.289] Nurse had been committed to jail, and while she was several miles distant, in Salem; and the said Nurse also struck said Ann Putnam with her spectral chain, leaving a mark, "being in a kind of a round ring, and three streaks across the ring: she had six blows with a chain in the space of half an hour; and she had one remarkable one, with six streaks across her arm." Edward Putnam swears, "I saw the mark, both of bite and chains." The Court, no doubt, were solemnly impressed by this amazing evidence; but it is hard to avoid the conclusion that Ann Putnam was guilty of elaborate falsehood and a studied trick.

There was another piece of evidence that, although it was presented against Rebecca Nurse, seems to implicate Ann Putnam more than anyone else and makes it harder to excuse her behavior by suggesting she was partially insane. It remains one of the complex issues of this case to figure out how much delusion might have been mixed with deception and trickery. Edward Putnam testified that "Ann Putnam, Jr., was bitten by Rebecca Nurse, as she claimed, around two o'clock in the afternoon" after Rebecca[ii.289] Nurse had already been thrown in jail, while she was several miles away in Salem. He also said that Nurse struck Ann Putnam with her spectral chain, leaving a mark that looked like "a kind of round ring with three streaks across it: there were six blows with a chain in half an hour, and one particularly notable strike left six streaks across her arm." Edward Putnam asserts, "I saw the marks of both the bite and the chains." The Court was surely taken aback by this astounding testimony; however, it’s hard to escape the conclusion that Ann Putnam was engaged in elaborate lying and a deliberate scheme.

In the trials at this session, one of the "afflicted children" cried out against the Rev. Samuel Willard, of the Old South Church, in Boston. "She was sent out of Court, and it was told about that she was mistaken in the person." There was surely evidence enough against the honesty and credibility of the accusers to leave the judges without excuse, and justly meriting perpetual condemnation for not paying heed to it.

In the trials at this session, one of the "afflicted children" shouted against Rev. Samuel Willard of the Old South Church in Boston. "She was sent out of court, and it was said that she mistook the person." There was clearly enough evidence questioning the honesty and credibility of the accusers to leave the judges without excuse, justly deserving of constant criticism for not taking it into account.

The case of Rebecca Nurse proves that a verdict could not have been obtained against a person of her character charged with witchcraft in this county, had not the most extraordinary efforts been made by the prosecuting officer, aided by the whole influence of the Court and provincial authorities. The odium of the proceedings at the trials and at the executions cannot fairly be laid upon Salem, or the people of this vicinity.[ii.290]

The case of Rebecca Nurse shows that a verdict could not have been reached against someone of her character accused of witchcraft in this county without extraordinary efforts from the prosecuting officer, supported by the entire influence of the Court and provincial authorities. The blame for the proceedings during the trials and executions cannot justly be placed on Salem or the local community.[ii.290]

But nothing can extenuate the infamy that must for ever rest upon the names of certain parties to the proceedings. Not to attempt here to measure the guilt of the accusing witnesses, it may be mentioned that it was the deliberate conviction of the family of Rebecca Nurse, that Mr. Parris, more than all other persons, was responsible for her execution; whether by his officious activity in driving on the prosecution, or in preventing her reprieve, cannot be known. Of the prominent part taken by Mr. Noyes in the cruel treatment of this woman, there is no room for doubt. The records of the First Church in Salem are darkened by the following entry:—

But nothing can diminish the shame that will always be associated with the names of certain individuals involved in the events. Without trying to measure the guilt of the accusing witnesses, it’s important to note that the family of Rebecca Nurse firmly believed that Mr. Parris, more than anyone else, was responsible for her execution; whether it was due to his active role in pushing for the prosecution or in blocking her chance for a reprieve is uncertain. There is no doubt about the significant role Mr. Noyes played in the cruel treatment of this woman. The records of the First Church in Salem are tarnished by the following entry:—

"1692, July 3.—After sacrament, the elders propounded to the church,—and it was, by an unanimous vote, consented to,—that our sister Nurse, being a convicted witch by the Court, and condemned to die, should be excommunicated; which was accordingly done in the afternoon, she being present."

"July 3, 1692.—After the sacrament, the elders proposed to the church—and it was agreed upon by a unanimous vote—that our sister Nurse, who was convicted as a witch by the Court and sentenced to death, should be excommunicated; and this was carried out in the afternoon, with her present."

The scene presented on this occasion must have been truly impressive at the time, as it is shocking to us in the retrospect. The action of the church, at the close of the morning service, of course became universally known; and the "great and spacious meeting-house" was thronged by a crowd that filled every nook and corner of its floor, galleries, and windows. The sheriff and his subordinates brought in the prisoner, manacled, and the chains clanking from her aged form. She was placed in the broad aisle. Mr.[ii.291] Higginson and Mr. Noyes—the elders, as the clergy were then called—were in the pulpit. The two ruling elders—who were lay officers—and the two deacons were in their proper seats, directly below and in front of the pulpit. Mr. Noyes pronounced the dread sentence, which, for such a crime, was then believed to be not merely an expulsion from the church on earth, but an exclusion from the church in heaven. It was meant to be understood as an eternal doom. As it had been proved, in his estimation, beyond a question, that she had given her soul to the Devil, he delivered her over to the great adversary of God and man.

The scene during this event must have been truly impressive at the time, as it is shocking to us in retrospect. The church's actions at the end of the morning service quickly became widely known, and the "great and spacious meeting-house" was packed with a crowd that filled every nook and corner of the floor, galleries, and windows. The sheriff and his deputies brought in the prisoner, handcuffed, with chains clanking from her aging body. She was placed in the wide aisle. Mr.[ii.291] Higginson and Mr. Noyes—the elders, as clergy were then called—were in the pulpit. The two ruling elders—who were lay officers—and the two deacons were in their designated seats, directly below and in front of the pulpit. Mr. Noyes pronounced the dreaded sentence, which at that time was believed to be not just an expulsion from the church on earth, but a banishment from the church in heaven. It was meant to be understood as an eternal condemnation. As he determined it was proven, beyond any doubt, that she had sold her soul to the Devil, he handed her over to the great adversary of God and humanity.

From the dismal cell, which, for but a few days longer, was to hold her body, he proclaimed the transferrence of her soul to—

From the bleak cell, which would only contain her body for a few more days, he announced the transfer of her soul to—

"A terrible dungeon all around," As one huge furnace blazed; yet from those flames No light, but instead darkness that can be seen; Areas of sadness, gloomy shadows, where peace And rest can never settle; hope never arrives. That happens to everyone; but endless torture,
As far away from God and the light of heaven, From the center to the farthest pole three times.

Language and imagery, exhausting the resources of the divine genius of the greatest of poets, fail to give expression to what was felt to be the import of this fearful sentence. It sunk the recipient of it below the reach of human sympathy. She was regarded, by that blinded multitude, with a horror that cast out pity, and was full of hate. But in our view now, and, as we believe, in the view of God and angels then, she[ii.292] occupied an infinite height above her persecutors. Her mind was serenely fixed upon higher scenes, and filled with a peace which the world could not take away, or its cruel wrongs disturb. She went back to her prison walls, and then to the scaffold, with a pious and humble faith which has not failed to be recorded among men, as it has been rewarded where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest.

Language and imagery, exhausting the resources of the divine genius of the greatest poets, fail to express what was felt to be the meaning of this terrifying sentence. It sunk the recipient of it below the reach of human sympathy. She was viewed, by that blinded crowd, with a horror that excluded pity and was full of hatred. But in our view now, and, as we believe, in the view of God and angels then, she[ii.292] stood at an infinite height above her persecutors. Her mind was calmly focused on higher matters and filled with a peace that the world couldn't steal away or its cruel wrongs disturb. She returned to her prison walls, and then to the scaffold, with a pious and humble faith that has not failed to be recorded among people, just as it has been rewarded where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary find rest.

Calef, as already quoted, gives the impression produced by her demeanor at her death. Hutchinson expresses in the following words the judgment of history and the sense of all coming times:—

Calef, as previously mentioned, shares the impression made by her behavior at her death. Hutchinson conveys in the following words the judgment of history and the perspective of future generations:—

"Mr. Noyes, the minister of Salem, a zealous prosecutor, excommunicated the poor old woman, and delivered her to Satan, to whom he supposed she had formally given herself up many years before; but her life and conversation had been such, that the remembrance thereof, in a short time after, wiped off all the reproach occasioned by the civil or ecclesiastical sentence against her."

"Mr. Noyes, the minister of Salem, a passionate prosecutor, excommunicated the poor old woman and handed her over to Satan, whom he believed she had willingly surrendered to many years earlier; however, her behavior and way of life were such that, shortly after, the memory of that civil and church judgment against her faded away."

It is impossible to close the story of the lot assigned to this good woman by an inscrutable Providence, without again contemplating it in a condensed recapitulation. In her old age, experiencing a full share of all the delicate infirmities which the instincts of humanity require to be treated with careful and reverent tenderness, she was ruthlessly snatched from the bosom of a loving family reared by her pious fidelity in all Christian graces, from the side of the devoted companion of her long life, from a home that was endeared[ii.293] by every grateful association and comfort; immured in the most wretched and crowded jails; kept loaded with irons and bound with cords for months; insulted and maligned at the preliminary examinations; outraged in her person by rough and unfeeling handling and scrutiny; and in her rights, by the most flagrant and detestable judicial oppression, by which the benefit of a verdict, given in her favor, had been torn away; carried to the meeting-house to receive the sentence of excommunication in a manner devised to harrow her most sacred sentiments; and finally carted through the streets by a route every foot of which must have been distressing to her infirm and enfeebled frame; made to ascend a rough and rocky path to the place of execution, and there consigned to the hangman. Surely, there has seldom been a harder fate.

It's impossible to wrap up the story of the life assigned to this good woman by an unexplainable fate without reflecting on it in a brief summary. In her old age, facing a fair share of all the delicate weaknesses that humanity requires to be treated with care and respect, she was brutally taken away from her loving family, which she had nurtured with her pious commitment to all Christian virtues, from the side of her devoted partner of many years, from a home filled with every grateful memory and comfort; she was locked away in the most dreadful and overcrowded prisons; held in chains and bound for months; insulted and slandered during the preliminary hearings; mistreated with rough and insensitive handling and examination; and legally wronged by the most outrageous and despicable judicial injustice, which stripped her of the benefit of a verdict issued in her favor; taken to the meeting house to receive the punishment of excommunication in a way designed to tear at her deepest feelings; and finally dragged through the streets along a path that must have deeply pained her fragile and weakened body; forced to climb a rough and rocky trail to the execution site, and there delivered to the hangman. Surely, it’s hard to imagine a more tragic fate.

Her body was probably thrown with the rest into a hole in the crevices of the rock, and covered hastily and thinly over by the executioners. It has been the constant tradition of the family, that, in some way, it was recovered; and the spot is pointed out in the burial-place belonging to the estate, where her ashes rest by the side of her husband, and in the midst of her children. It is certain, that, at least, one other body was thus exhumed, and taken to its own proper place of burial. From the known character of Francis Nurse and his sons and sons-in-law, we may be sure that what others could do they did not suffer to remain undone. It is left to the imagination to present the details of the sad and secret enterprise. In the[ii.294] darkness of midnight, they found and identified the body, and bore it tenderly in their arms along the silent roads and by-ways, across fields and over fences, to the old home, where it was received by the assembled family, mourned over, and cared for; and, during that or the ensuing night, deposited, with tears and prayers, in their own consecrated grounds. Her descendants of successive generations owned and reverently guarded the spot. They own and guard it to-day. The interesting reminiscences connected with the early history of the Nurse house have been alluded to. It has witnessed an extraordinary variety of the conditions of domestic vicissitude. Scenes rising before the mind in contemplative retrospection, while gazing upon it, present the extremest contrasts of human experience. On the evening of the 25th of October, 1678, Mary and Elizabeth Nurse were married. Such an occurrence was undoubtedly the occasion of the highest joy and gladness in a happy household. The old mansion shone in light, and echoed voices of cheer. How altered its aspect! What darkness and silence brooded over and within it, while those same daughters waited, watched, and listened, through the solemn hours of that night of woe and horror, for the coming of their father, husbands, and brothers, bearing to the home, from which she had been so cruelly torn, the remains of their slaughtered mother!

Her body was probably thrown in with the others into a crevice in the rocks and covered quickly and lightly by the executioners. The family has always believed that, somehow, it was recovered; and the spot is marked in the burial ground on the estate, where her ashes rest beside her husband and among her children. It’s certain that at least one other body was exhumed and taken to its rightful place of burial. Given the known character of Francis Nurse and his family, we can be sure that they wouldn’t allow what others could do to go undone. It’s up to our imagination to fill in the details of this sad and secret mission. In the[ii.294] darkness of midnight, they found and identified the body, carrying it gently in their arms along the quiet roads and paths, across fields and over fences, to the old home, where the gathered family mourned and cared for her; and, during that night or the next, they laid her to rest in their own consecrated ground, with tears and prayers. Her descendants over the generations have owned and revered this spot. They still own and protect it today. The memorable stories connected to the early history of the Nurse house have been noted. It has seen an extraordinary range of family struggles. Scenes of extreme contrasts of human experience come to mind when gazing at it. On the evening of October 25, 1678, Mary and Elizabeth Nurse were married. This event surely brought the highest joy and happiness to a delighted household. The old mansion was filled with light and echoed with cheerful voices. How different it looked! What darkness and silence hung over and within it, as those same daughters waited, watched, and listened through the solemn hours of that night of sorrow and horror, for their father, husbands, and brothers to return home, bringing back the remains of their slaughtered mother!

The subsequent history of the house presents a circumstance of singular interest in connection with[ii.295] our story. All the members of the three branches of the Putnam family, with the exception of Joseph, seem to have been carried away by the witchcraft delusion, in its early stages, and were more or less active in pushing on the prosecutions. We have seen how fierce was the maniac testimony of Mrs. Ann Putnam and her daughter against Rebecca Nurse. The lapse of time, by a Providence that wonderfully works its ends, has repaired the breaches made by folly and wrong. The descendants of the numerous family of Mrs. Ann Putnam have disappeared from the scene: none of them bearing the name are in the village. The descendants of Deacon Edward Putnam have also scattered in emigration to other places. Nathaniel and John, the heads of the other two branches of the family, although involved in the witchcraft delusion, each signed papers in favor of Rebecca Nurse; their descendants, as well as those of Joseph, are still numerous in the village, hold their old position of respectability and influence, and many of them occupy the lands of their ancestors. Stephen, the grandson of Nathaniel, married Miriam, the grand-daughter of John. Their son Phinehas, in 1784, bought the Nurse homestead from Benjamin Nurse, the great-grandson of Rebecca. Orin Putnam, the great-grandson of Phinehas, to whom the estate descends, married in 1836 the daughter of Allen Nurse, a direct descendant of Rebecca, and placed her at the head of her old ancestral homestead. The children of that marriage, with their father and grandfather, constitute the family[ii.296] that dwell in and own the venerable mansion. This singular restoration, suggesting such pleasing sentiments, adds another to the remarkable elements of interest belonging to the history of the Townsend-Bishop House.

The later history of the house is particularly fascinating in relation to[ii.295] our story. All the members of the three branches of the Putnam family, except for Joseph, seem to have gotten swept up in the early witchcraft hysteria and were somewhat involved in pushing the prosecutions forward. We’ve seen how aggressively Mrs. Ann Putnam and her daughter testified against Rebecca Nurse. Time, through a remarkable Providence that works its wonders, has repaired the damage caused by foolishness and wrongdoing. The descendants of Mrs. Ann Putnam have vanished from the area; none of them with that last name remain in the village. The descendants of Deacon Edward Putnam have also dispersed, moving to other places. Nathaniel and John, the leaders of the other two branches of the family, though caught up in the witchcraft delusion, each signed documents supporting Rebecca Nurse; their descendants, along with those of Joseph, are still numerous in the village, maintaining their old standing of respect and influence, and many of them live on the land of their ancestors. Stephen, Nathaniel’s grandson, married Miriam, John’s granddaughter. Their son Phinehas bought the Nurse homestead in 1784 from Benjamin Nurse, Rebecca’s great-grandson. Orin Putnam, Phinehas’s great-grandson, who inherited the estate, married Allen Nurse’s daughter in 1836, a direct descendant of Rebecca, and made her the head of her ancestral home. The children from that marriage, along with their father and grandfather, form the family[ii.296] that lives in and owns the historic mansion. This unique restoration evokes such pleasant feelings and adds yet another intriguing aspect to the history of the Townsend-Bishop House.

The descendants of Francis and Rebecca Nurse are numerous, and have honorably perpetuated the name. Among them may be mentioned the Rev. Peter Nurse, a graduate of Harvard College in 1802, for some years librarian of that institution, an excellent scholar, and long universally respected as a clergyman; and Amos Nurse, a graduate of the same college in 1812,—an eminent physician connected with the medical faculty of Bowdoin College, a man of distinguished talent and influence in public affairs, and senator in Congress from the State of Maine.

The descendants of Francis and Rebecca Nurse are many and have proudly carried on the family name. Notable among them are Rev. Peter Nurse, who graduated from Harvard College in 1802 and served as the librarian there for several years; he was an excellent scholar and a well-respected clergyman. Another is Amos Nurse, a graduate of the same college in 1812, who became a distinguished physician associated with the medical faculty of Bowdoin College. He was a man of remarkable talent and significant influence in public matters, even serving as a senator in Congress from the State of Maine.

The Court met again on the 5th of August, and tried George Burroughs; John Procter and Elizabeth, his wife; George Jacobs, Sr.; John Willard; and Martha Carrier. They were all condemned, and, with the exception of Elizabeth Procter, executed on the 19th of the same month.

The Court met again on August 5th and tried George Burroughs; John Proctor and his wife, Elizabeth; George Jacobs, Sr.; John Willard; and Martha Carrier. They were all found guilty, and except for Elizabeth Proctor, they were executed on the 19th of the same month.

Hutchinson describes the trial of Burroughs. After speaking of the evidence of the "afflicted persons" and the confessing witches, he mentions other circumstances which were thought to corroborate it: "One was, that, being a little man, he had performed feats beyond the strength of a giant; viz., had held out a gun of seven feet barrel with one hand, and had carried a barrel full of cider from a canoe to the shore." Bur[ii.297]roughs said that an Indian present at the time did the same. Instantly, the accusers said it was "the black man, or the Devil, who," they swore, "looks like an Indian." Another piece of evidence was, that he went from one place to another, on a certain occasion, in a shorter time than was possible had not the Devil helped him. He said, in answer, that another man accompanied him. Their reply to this was, that it was the Devil, using the appearance of another man. So whatever he said was turned against him. Hutchinson says, "Upon the whole, he was confounded, and used many twistings and turnings, which, I think, we cannot wonder at." This fair and judicious writer, like Brattle, appears in the foregoing remark to have adopted the common scandal, put in circulation by parties interested to disparage Mr. Burroughs. The papers in this case, that have come down to us, are more numerous than in reference to many others among the sufferers; and they do not bear such an impression. Mr. Burroughs was astounded at the monstrous folly and falsehood with which he was surrounded. He was a man without guile, and incapable of appreciating such wickedness. He tried, in simplicity and ingenuousness, to explain what was brought against him; and this, probably, was all the "twisting and turning" he exhibited.

Hutchinson talks about Burroughs' trial. After discussing the testimonies of the "afflicted people" and the witches who confessed, he points out other details that were believed to support the claims: "One was that, being a small man, he had done feats beyond the strength of a giant; for instance, he had held up a seven-foot-barreled gun with one hand and had carried a barrel full of cider from a canoe to the shore." Burroughs mentioned that an Indian who was there at the time did the same. Immediately, the accusers claimed it was "the black man, or the Devil, who," they swore, "looks like an Indian." Another piece of evidence was that he traveled from one place to another in a shorter time than should have been possible without the Devil's help. He responded that another man was with him. Their comeback was that it was the Devil pretending to be another man. So whatever he said was used against him. Hutchinson remarks, "Overall, he was baffled and tried many evasions, which I think is understandable." This fair and reasonable writer, like Brattle, seems to have accepted the common rumors spread by those looking to discredit Mr. Burroughs in that previous statement. The documents related to this case that have survived are more numerous than those for many other victims, and they don’t carry the same implications. Mr. Burroughs was shocked by the absurdity and lies surrounding him. He was a sincere man and couldn’t comprehend such wickedness. He tried, with honesty and straightforwardness, to explain the accusations against him, and that was likely all the "twisting and turning" he displayed.

Hutchinson had the benefit of consulting all the papers belonging to this and other trials; but neither he nor Calef seems to have noticed one remarkable fact: many of the depositions, how many we cannot[ii.298] tell, were procured after the trials were over, and surreptitiously foisted in among the papers to bolster up the proceedings. We find, for instance, the following deposition:—

Hutchinson had the advantage of reviewing all the documents from this and other trials; however, neither he nor Calef seems to have recognized one striking detail: many of the statements, though we can’t say how many, were obtained after the trials concluded and secretly added to the records to support the proceedings. For example, we find the following statement:—

"Thomas Greenslitt, aged about forty years, being deposed, testifieth that, about the first breaking-out of this last Indian war, being at the house of Captain Joshua Scotto at Black Point, he saw Mr. George Burrows, who was lately executed at Salem, lift a gun of six-foot barrel or thereabouts, putting the forefinger of his right hand into the muzzle of said gun, and that he held it out at arms' end, only with that finger: and further this deponent testifieth, that, at the same time, he saw the said Burrows take up a full barrel of molasses with but two of the fingers of one of his hands in the bung, and carry it from the stage head to the door at the end of the stage, without letting it down; and that Lieutenant Richard Hunniwell and John Greenslitt were then present, and some others that are dead. Sept. 15, '92."

"Thomas Greenslitt, around forty years old, being sworn in, testifies that, at the beginning of this recent Indian war, he was at Captain Joshua Scotto's house at Black Point when he saw Mr. George Burrows, who was recently executed in Salem, lift a gun with a barrel of about six feet long. He inserted the forefinger of his right hand into the muzzle of the gun and held it out at arm's length, using just that finger. Furthermore, this witness testifies that at the same time, he saw Burrows pick up a full barrel of molasses with only two fingers from one of his hands in the bung, and carry it from the stage head to the door at the end of the stage without lowering it. Lieutenant Richard Hunniwell and John Greenslitt were present then, along with some others who have since passed away. Sept. 15, '92."

Not only the date to this deposition, but its express language, proves that it could not have been used at the trial. There is another, to the same effect and of the same date, that is, nearly a month after Burroughs was thrown into his grave. There are others of the same kind. This stamps the management of the prosecutions, and of those concerned in the charge of the papers, with an irregularity of the grossest kind, which partakes strongly of the character of fraud and falsehood.

Not just the date of this deposition but also its specific wording shows that it couldn't have been used in the trial. There’s another one with the same meaning and date, which is nearly a month after Burroughs was buried. There are more like this. This highlights the management of the prosecutions and those involved in handling the papers as being seriously irregular, strongly resembling fraud and deception.

When it was found that there was beginning to grow up a want of confidence in "spectre evidence" and the testimony of the afflicted children, those con[ii.299]cerned in the prosecutions became alarmed lest a re-action of public sentiment might take place. The persons who had brought Mr. Burroughs to his death concluded that their best escape from public indignation was to accumulate evidence against him after he was in his grave, particularly on the point of his superhuman strength; and they got up these depositions, and caused them to be put among the papers on file. Great stress was laid, by those who were interested in damaging his character and suppressing sympathy in his fate, upon this particular proof of his having been in confederacy with the Devil. Increase Mather said, that, in his judgment, it was conclusive evidence that he "had the Devil to be his familiar," and that, had he been on the jury, he could not, on this account, have concurred in a verdict of acquittal; and Cotton Mather, feeling the importance of making the most of Mr. Burroughs's extraordinary strength, gives way to his tendency to indulge in the marvellous, as follows:—

When people started to lose faith in "specter evidence" and the accounts of the afflicted children, those involved in the prosecutions began to worry that public opinion might shift. The individuals who had led to Mr. Burroughs's death figured that their best way to avoid public outrage was to gather evidence against him after he was dead, especially regarding his alleged superhuman strength. They compiled these statements and had them filed with the official documents. Significant emphasis was placed by those seeking to tarnish his reputation and reduce sympathy for his fate on this specific proof of his supposed alliance with the Devil. Increase Mather expressed that, in his view, it was irrefutable evidence that he "had the Devil as his familiar," and that, had he been a juror, he could not have agreed to a not guilty verdict for this reason. Cotton Mather, recognizing the importance of highlighting Mr. Burroughs's remarkable strength, gives in to his penchant for the extraordinary, as follows:—

"God had been pleased so to leave this George Burroughs, that he had ensnared himself by several instances which he had formerly given of preternatural strength, and which were now produced against him. He was a very puny man, yet he had often done things beyond the strength of a giant. A gun of about seven-foot barrel, and so heavy that strong men could not steadily hold it out with both hands,—there were several testimonies given in by persons of credit and honor, that he made nothing of taking up such a gun behind the lock with but one hand, and holding it out, like a pistol, at arms' end. Yea, there were two[ii.300] testimonies, that George Burroughs, with only putting the forefinger of his right hand into the muzzle of a heavy gun, a fowling-piece of about six or seven foot barrel, did lift up the gun, and hold it out at arms' end,—a gun which the deponents thought strong men could not with both hands lift up, and hold at the butt end, as is usual."

"God had deliberately left George Burroughs in a situation where he had trapped himself with various examples of supernatural strength he had previously shown, which were now used against him. He was a very frail man, yet he had often done things that were far beyond the strength of a giant. There was a gun with a barrel about seven feet long, so heavy that strong men couldn’t steadily hold it out with both hands—there were several credible witnesses who testified that he easily picked up that gun by the lock with just one hand and held it out, like a pistol, at arm's length. In fact, there were two[ii.300] testimonies that George Burroughs, by simply putting the forefinger of his right hand into the muzzle of a heavy gun, a fowling-piece with a barrel about six or seven feet long, lifted the gun and held it out at arm's length—a gun that the witnesses believed strong men couldn’t lift and hold at the butt end with both hands, as is typical."

It is further observable, in reference to the foregoing deposition from Greenslitt, that it was given six days after the condemnation of his mother, Ann Pudeator, and a week before her execution. Cotton Mather says that he "was overpersuaded by others to be out of the way upon George Burroughs's trial," six weeks before. He did not fail, however, to come to Salem to be with his mother at her trial and until her death, and being here was compelled to give his deposition. His mother's life was at the mercy of the prosecutors; and he was tempted, in the vain hope of conciliating that mercy, to gratify them by making the statement about Burroughs a month after his execution, and whom it could not then harm. What he said was probably no more than the truth. It has been found that the power of the human muscles can be cultivated to a surprising extent; and the feats ascribed to Burroughs, without making much allowance for a natural degree of exaggeration, have been fully equalled in our day.

It’s also noteworthy, in relation to the earlier testimony from Greenslitt, that it was given six days after the condemnation of his mother, Ann Pudeator, and a week before her execution. Cotton Mather mentioned that he "was pressured by others to stay away during George Burroughs's trial," which was six weeks prior. However, he still came to Salem to be with his mother during her trial and until her death, and while he was there, he had to give his deposition. His mother’s life was in the hands of the prosecutors, and he was tempted, in a futile attempt to secure their mercy, to please them by making the statement about Burroughs a month after his execution, which he knew couldn’t harm anyone. What he said was likely just the truth. It has been shown that human muscles can be developed to a remarkable degree, and the feats attributed to Burroughs, without considering a natural level of exaggeration, have been fully matched in our time.

Calef gives the following account of his execution:—

Calef provides the following account of his execution:—

"Mr. Burroughs was carried in a cart with the others, through the streets of Salem, to execution. When he was upon the ladder, he made a speech for the clearing of his[ii.301] innocency, with such solemn and serious expressions as were to the admiration of all present. His prayer (which he concluded by repeating the Lord's Prayer) was so well worded, and uttered with such composedness and such (at least seeming) fervency of spirit, as was very affecting, and drew tears from many, so that it seemed to some that the spectators would hinder the execution. The accusers said the black man stood and dictated to him. As soon as he was turned off, Mr. Cotton Mather, being mounted upon a horse, addressed himself to the people, partly to declare that he (Mr. Burroughs) was no ordained minister, and partly to possess the people of his guilt, saying that the Devil often had been transformed into an angel of light; and this somewhat appeased the people, and the executions went on. When he was cut down, he was dragged by a halter to a hole, or grave, between the rocks, about two feet deep; his shirt and breeches being pulled off, and an old pair of trousers of one executed put on his lower parts: he was so put in, together with Willard and Carrier, that one of his hands, and his chin, and a foot of one of them, was left uncovered."

"Mr. Burroughs was carried in a cart with the others through the streets of Salem to his execution. When he was on the ladder, he made a speech to clear his[ii.301] innocence, with such solemn and serious expressions that everyone present admired him. His prayer (which he ended by reciting the Lord's Prayer) was so well-crafted and delivered with such calmness and (at least seemingly) passionate spirit that it moved many to tears, making it seem like the spectators might stop the execution. The accusers claimed that a black man was standing by and directing him. As soon as he was hanged, Mr. Cotton Mather, on horseback, spoke to the crowd, partly to point out that Mr. Burroughs was not an ordained minister and partly to convince the people of his guilt, stating that the Devil often pretends to be an angel of light; this somewhat calmed the crowd, and the executions continued. When he was taken down, he was dragged by a rope to a grave between the rocks, about two feet deep; his shirt and pants were removed, and an old pair of trousers from another executed man was put on him. He was placed in the grave alongside Willard and Carrier so that one of his hands, his chin, and a foot of one of them were left uncovered."

Cotton Mather, not satisfied with this display of animosity, at a moment when every human heart, however imbittered by prejudice, is hushed for the time in solemn silence, attempts, in an account afterwards given of Mr. Burroughs's trial, to blacken his character by an elaborate dressing-up of the absurd stories told by the accusers, and a perverse misrepresentation of the demeanor of the accused. He relates with apparent glee what was regarded as a wonderful achievement of adroitness on the part of Chief-justice Stoughton in trapping Mr. Burroughs, and putting the laugh upon him in Court.[ii.302]

Cotton Mather, not content with this show of hostility, at a time when even the most prejudiced hearts are quieted in solemn silence, tries, in a later account of Mr. Burroughs's trial, to tarnish his reputation with an elaborate embellishment of the ridiculous stories told by the accusers, and a twisted portrayal of the accused's behavior. He recounts with obvious delight what was seen as a remarkable skill on Chief-justice Stoughton’s part in trapping Mr. Burroughs and turning the tables on him in Court.[ii.302]

"It cost the Court a wonderful deal of trouble to hear the testimonies of the sufferers; for, when they were going to give in their depositions, they would for a long while be taken with fits, that made them quite uncapable of saying any thing. The chief judge asked the prisoner, who he thought hindered these witnesses from giving their testimonies; and he answered, he supposed it was the Devil. The honorable person then replied, 'How comes the Devil so loath to have any testimony borne against you?' Which cast him into very great confusion."

"It took the Court a lot of trouble to hear the testimonies of the victims; whenever they were about to give their statements, they would often have fits that made them completely unable to say anything. The chief judge asked the defendant who he thought was preventing these witnesses from giving their testimonies, and he replied that he assumed it was the Devil. The honorable judge then responded, 'Why does the Devil seem so eager to keep any testimony from being presented against you?' This left him very confused."

From what fell from him, at the preliminary examination, it is evident that it did not occur to him as a possibility that human nature could be capable of the guilt of such a wilful fabrication and imposture on the part of the "afflicted children." He beheld their sufferings, and he knew his own innocence. He felt, whatever his theological creed might have been, that a Devil was required to explain the mystery. The apparent sufferings of the accusing witnesses convinced Court, jury, and all, of the guilt of the accused. The logic of the chief-justice was perfectly absurd. For, if the Devil caused the sufferings, he was an adverse party to the prisoner. This, however, overthrows the whole theory of the prosecution, which was that the prisoner and the Devil were in league with each other. But the judge, jury, and people, all equally blinded and stupefied by the delusion, did not see it; and they chuckled over the alleged confusion of the prisoner. All thoughtful persons will concur in Mr. Burroughs's opinion, that, if ever a diabolical power had possession[ii.303] of human beings, it was in the case of the wretched creatures who enacted the part of the accusing girls in the witchcraft proceedings. In his account of the trial, Mather makes statements which show that he was privy to the fact, that testimony, subsequently taken, was lodged with the evidence belonging to the case. The documents prove that it was done to an extent beyond what he acknowledges.

From what he said during the preliminary examination, it's clear that he never considered the possibility that human nature could be capable of the guilt of such a deliberate deception and fraud on the part of the "afflicted children." He witnessed their suffering and knew he was innocent. He felt, no matter what his religious beliefs were, that a Devil was needed to explain the mystery. The evident suffering of the accusing witnesses convinced the court, jury, and everyone else of the accused's guilt. The logic of the chief justice was completely nonsensical. If the Devil caused the suffering, he was against the prisoner. However, this contradicts the entire prosecution theory that the prisoner and the Devil were working together. Yet the judge, jury, and public, all equally blinded and confused by the delusion, didn’t realize it; instead, they laughed at the supposed confusion of the prisoner. Thoughtful people will agree with Mr. Burroughs’s view that if there was ever a diabolical force controlling human beings, it was in the case of the miserable individuals who played the role of the accusing girls in the witchcraft trials. In his account of the trial, Mather makes remarks indicating that he was aware that testimony, later taken, was included with the evidence related to the case. The documents show that it was done to a greater extent than he admits.

Considering that none dared to show the least sympathy with the persons on trial, that they had none to counsel or stand by them, that the public passions were incensed against them as against no other persons ever charged with crime,—it being vastly more flagrant than any other crime, a rebellion against heaven and earth, God and man; a deliberate selling of the soul to the Arch-enemy of souls for the ruin of all other souls,—in view of all these things, it is truly astonishing, that, by the documents themselves, proceeding, as in almost all cases they do, from hostile and imbittered sources, we are compelled to the conviction, that, in their imprisonments, trials, and deaths, the victims of this savage delusion manifested—in most cases eminently, and in all substantially—the marks, not only of innocent, but of elevated and heroic minds. A review of what can be gleaned in reference to Mr. Burroughs at Casco Bay and Salem Village, and a considerate survey and scrutiny of all that has reached us from the day of his arrest to the moment of his death, have left a decided impression, that he was an able, intelligent, true-minded man; ingenuous,[ii.304] sincere, humble in his spirit; faithful and devoted as a minister; and active, generous, and disinterested as a citizen. His descendants, under his own name and the names of Newman, Fowle, Holbrook, Fox, Thomas, and others, have been numerous and respectable. The late Isaiah Thomas, LL.D., was one of them.

Given that no one dared to show even the slightest sympathy for those on trial, that they had no one to advise or support them, and that public anger was aimed at them like no other accused criminals—since their crimes were seen as far worse than any other, a rebellion against heaven and earth, God and humanity; a deliberate selling of the soul to the ultimate enemy of souls for the ruin of all other souls—considering all these factors, it is truly astonishing that, based on the documents themselves, which almost always come from hostile and embittered sources, we are led to believe that, in their imprisonments, trials, and deaths, the victims of this cruel delusion displayed—in most cases clearly, and in all cases significantly—not only signs of innocence but also of elevated and heroic minds. A review of what can be learned about Mr. Burroughs at Casco Bay and Salem Village, along with a careful examination of everything that has come to us from the time of his arrest to the moment of his death, has left a strong impression that he was an able, intelligent, and clear-minded man; honest, sincere, and humble in spirit; loyal and devoted as a minister; and active, generous, and selfless as a citizen. His descendants, under his own name and the names of Newman, Fowle, Holbrook, Fox, Thomas, and others, have been numerous and respectable. The late Isaiah Thomas, LL.D., was one of them.

From the account given of John Procter, in the First Part, it is apparent that he was a person of decided character, and, although impulsive and liable to be imprudent, of a manly spirit, honest, earnest, and bold in word and deed. He saw through the whole thing, and was convinced that it was the result of a conspiracy, deliberate and criminal, on the part of the accusers. He gave free utterance to his indignation at their conduct, and it cost him his life.

From the account of John Procter in the First Part, it's clear that he was a person of strong character. Though he could be impulsive and reckless, he had a manly spirit and was honest, sincere, and courageous in his words and actions. He saw the entire situation for what it was and believed it was a result of a deliberate and criminal conspiracy by the accusers. He openly expressed his anger at their behavior, and it ultimately cost him his life.

A few days before his trial, he made his will. There is no reference in it to his particular situation. His signature to the document is accurately represented among the autographs given in this work. It was written while the manacles were on him. Notwithstanding the danger to which any one was exposed who expressed sympathy for convicted or accused persons, or doubt of their guilt, a large number had the manliness to try to save this worthy and honest citizen. John Wise, one of the ministers of Ipswich, heads the list of petitioners from that place. The document is in his handwriting. Thirty-one others joined in the act, many of them among the most respectable citizens of that town. Mr. Wise was a learned, able, and enlightened man. He had a free spirit, and was per[ii.305]haps the only minister in the neighborhood or country, who was discerning enough to see the erroneousness of the proceedings from the beginning. The petition is as follows:—

A few days before his trial, he wrote his will. There’s no mention in it of his specific situation. His signature on the document is accurately represented among the autographs included in this work. It was written while he was still in handcuffs. Despite the risks to anyone who showed sympathy for convicted or accused individuals, or who doubted their guilt, many had the courage to try to defend this worthy and honest citizen. John Wise, one of the ministers from Ipswich, leads the list of petitioners from that area. The document is in his handwriting. Thirty-one others joined in this effort, many of them some of the most respected citizens of that town. Mr. Wise was a knowledgeable, capable, and insightful man. He had a free spirit and was perhaps the only minister in the area or the country who could see the flawed nature of the proceedings from the start. The petition is as follows:—

"The Humble and Sincere Declaration of us, Subscribers, Inhabitants in Ipswich, on the Behalf of our Neighbors, John Procter and his Wife, now in Trouble and under Suspicion of Witchcraft.

The Humble and Sincere Declaration of us, Subscribers, Inhabitants in Ipswich, on the Behalf of our Neighbors, John Procter and his Wife, now in Trouble and under Suspicion of Witchcraft.

"TO THE HONORABLE COURT OF ASSISTANTS NOW SITTING IN BOSTON.

"TO THE HONORABLE COURT OF ASSISTANTS NOW SITTING IN BOSTON."

"Honored and Right Worshipful,—The aforesaid John Procter may have great reason to justify the Divine Sovereignty of God under these severe remarks of Providence upon his peace and honor, under a due reflection upon his life past; and so the best of us have reason to adore the great pity and indulgence of God's providence, that we are not exposed to the utmost shame that the Devil can invent, under the permissions of sovereignty, though not for that sin forenamed, yet for our many transgressions. For we do at present suppose, that it may be a method within the severer but just transactions of the infinite majesty of God, that he sometimes may permit Sathan to personate, dissemble, and thereby abuse innocents and such as do, in the fear of God, defy the Devil and all his works. The great rage he is permitted to attempt holy Job with; the abuse he does the famous Samuel in disquieting his silent dust, by shadowing his venerable person in answer to the charms of witchcraft; and other instances from good hands,—may be arguments. Besides the unsearchable footsteps of God's judgments, that are brought to light every morning, that as[ii.306]tonish our weaker reasons; to teach us adoration, trembling, dependence, &c. But we must not trouble Your Honors by being tedious. Therefore, being smitten with the notice of what hath happened, we reckon it within the duties of our charity, that teacheth us to do as we would be done by, to offer thus much for the clearing of our neighbors' innocency; viz., that we never had the least knowledge of such a nefandous wickedness in our said neighbors, since they have been within our acquaintance. Neither do we remember any such thoughts in us concerning them, or any action by them or either of them, directly tending that way, no more than might be in the lives of any other persons of the clearest reputation as to any such evils. What God may have left them to, we cannot go into God's pavilion clothed with clouds of darkness round about; but, as to what we have ever seen or heard of them, upon our consciences we judge them innocent of the crime objected. His breeding hath been amongst us, and was of religious parents in our place, and, by reason of relations and properties within our town, hath had constant intercourse with us. We speak upon our personal acquaintance and observation; and so leave our neighbors, and this our testimony on their behalf, to the wise thoughts of Your Honors.

"Honored and Right Worshipful,—John Procter has every reason to affirm the Divine Sovereignty of God in light of the severe circumstances affecting his peace and honor, especially when considering his past life; and we all have reason to appreciate the great mercy and indulgence of God's providence that we are not subjected to the utmost shame that the Devil can devise, allowed by divine sovereignty, even if not for the mentioned sin, then for our numerous failings. Currently, we believe that it may be within the serious but fair dealings of God's infinite majesty that He sometimes allows Satan to impersonate and deceive, thereby wronging the innocent, including those who, out of reverence for God, defy the Devil and all his works. The intense trials allowed for holy Job and the torment inflicted upon the renowned Samuel, disturbing his silent rest by conjuring his esteemed spirit in response to witchcraft spells, along with other instances from credible sources, may support this view. Moreover, the unfathomable ways of God's judgments revealed daily astonish our limited understanding; they teach us to show reverence, fear, and reliance, etc. But we shouldn't burden Your Honors by being too lengthy. Thus, moved by the awareness of recent events, we see it as our duty to act out of charity, guiding us to treat others as we wish to be treated, to offer this clarification regarding our neighbors' innocence: we have never had any knowledge of such despicable wickedness in our neighbors since we've known them. Furthermore, we don't recall any such thoughts about them or any direct actions by them pertaining to that, no more than could be found in the lives of any other individuals with a clear reputation regarding such evils. What God may have permitted them to do is beyond our comprehension, as we cannot enter God's pavilion shrouded in darkness; however, based on what we have seen or heard of them, we firmly believe they are innocent of the accusations. He has been raised among us, from religious parents in our community, and, due to neighborhood connections and properties in our town, has maintained consistent contact with us. We speak from personal knowledge and observation; therefore, we leave our neighbors and this testimony on their behalf to the careful consideration of Your Honors."

Jn No. Wise. Nathaniel Perkins. Ben Marshall.
William Story. Senr. Thomas Lovkine. John Andrews Jur.
Reinalld Foster. William Cogswell. Bill Butler.
Thos. Chote. Thomas Varny. William Andrews.
John Burnum Sr. John Fellows. John Andrews
William Thomson. Wm. Cogswell Jur. John Chote Ser.
Though. Low Senr. Jonathan Cogswell. Joseph Procter.
Isaac Foster. John Cogswell Ju. Samuel Gidding.
John Burnum junr. John Cogswell. Joseph Evleth.
William Goodhew. Thomas Andrews. James White.
Isaac Perkins. Joseph Andrews.  

I have given the names of the men who signed this paper, as copied from the original. It is due to their memory; and their descendants may well be gratified by the testimony thus borne to their courage and justice.

I have listed the names of the men who signed this document, copied from the original. It honors their memory, and their descendants can take pride in the acknowledgment of their courage and fairness.

Their neighbors living near the bounds of the village presented the following paper, in the handwriting of Felton, the first signer. From the appearance of the document, it seems that a portion of it, probably containing an equal number of names, has been cut out by scissors.

Their neighbors living at the edge of the village submitted the following paper, written by Felton, the first signer. It looks like part of the document, likely with an equal number of names, has been cut out with scissors.

"We whose names are underwritten, having several years known John Procter and his wife, do testify that we never heard or understood that they were ever suspected to be guilty of the crime now charged upon them; and several of us, being their near neighbors, do testify, that, to our apprehension, they lived Christian-like in their family, and were ever ready to help such as stood in need of their help.

"We, the undersigned, have known John Procter and his wife for several years and can confirm that we never heard or thought they were suspected of the crime they are currently accused of; and many of us, being their close neighbors, can attest that they lived a Christian life in their family and were always willing to help those in need."

"Nathaniel Felton, Sr., and Mary his wife.
Samuel Marsh, and Priscilla his wife.
James Houlton, and Ruth his wife.
John Felton.
Nathaniel Felton, Jr.
Samuel Frayll, and An his wife.
Zachariah Marsh, and Mary his wife.
Samuel Endecott, and Hanah his wife.
Samuel Stone.
George Locker.
Samuel Gaskil, and Provided his wife.
George Smith.
Edward Gaskil."

"Nathan Felton, Sr., and Mary his wife.
Samuel Marsh, and Priscilla his wife.
James Houlton, and Ruth his wife.
John Felton.
Nathaniel Felton, Jr.
Samuel Frayll, and An his wife.
Zach Marsh, and Mary his wife.
Samuel Endecott, and Hanah his wife.
Samuel Stone.
George Locker.
Samuel Gaskill, and Provided his wife.
George Smith.
Edward Gaskill."

In addition to this testimony in their favor, evidence was offered, at their trial, that one of the accusing[ii.308] witnesses had denied, out of Court, what she had sworn to in Court; and declared that she must, at the time, have been "out of her head," and that she had never intended to accuse them. It was further proved, that another of the accusing witnesses acknowledged that she had sworn falsely, and tried to explain away her testimony in Court, acknowledging that what the girls said was "for sport. They must have some sport." But neither the testimony in their favor from those who had known them through life, nor the palpable and decisive manner in which the evidence against them had been impeached and exposed, could open the eyes of the infatuated Court and jury.

In addition to this testimony in their favor, evidence was presented at their trial showing that one of the accusers[ii.308] had denied what she swore to in Court outside of it. She stated that she must have been "out of her mind" at the time and never meant to accuse them. It was also proven that another accuser admitted she had lied under oath and tried to downplay her testimony in Court, saying what the girls claimed was just "for fun. They needed some fun." However, neither the testimony from those who had known them their whole lives nor the clear and convincing way the evidence against them had been challenged could convince the blinded Court and jury.

After his conviction, he requested, in vain, time enough to prepare himself for death, and make the necessary arrangements of his business and for the welfare of his family; and the statement has come down to us, that Mr. Noyes refused to pray with him, unless he would confess himself guilty. The following letter, addressed by him to the ministers named, in behalf of himself and fellow-prisoners, gives a truly shocking account of the outrages connected with the prosecutions. It illustrates the courage of the writer in exposing them, and is a sensible and manly appeal and remonstrance. There is ground for supposing that the ministers addressed were known not to be entirely carried away by the delusion. The fact that Mr. Mather—meaning, of course, Increase Mather—is the first named, corroborates other evidence that he was beginning to entertain doubts about the propriety[ii.309] of the proceedings. Of the Rev. James Allen, much has been said in connection with the Townsend-Bishop farm. He had been a clergyman in England, and was silenced by the Act of Uniformity, in 1662. He came to New England; and, after officiating as an assistant to the Rev. Mr. Davenport, in the First Church at Boston, for six years, was ordained as its preacher in 1668. He was of independent fortune, and subsequently took a leading part with those opposed to the party that had favored the witchcraft prosecutions. He must have known Rebecca Nurse quite intimately, and much of the influence used in her favor, and which almost saved her, may be attributed to him; there was a particular intimacy between him and Increase Mather, and together they held Cotton Mather somewhat in check, occasionally at least. The Rev. Joshua Moody had been settled in the ministry at Portsmouth, New Hampshire. In the maintenance of the principles of religious liberty he suffered a long imprisonment, and was afterwards exiled by arbitrary power. He was then invited to the First Church in Boston, where he preached from 1684 to 1693, when he returned to Portsmouth. He died in 1697. By his active exertions, Mr. and Mrs. English were enabled to escape from the jail at Boston. The Rev. Samuel Willard, pastor of the Old South Church in Boston, was one of the most revered and beloved ministers in the country. His publications were numerous, learned, and valuable; consisting of discourses, tracts, and volumes. His "Body of Divinity" is an elaborate and systematic[ii.310] work, comprising two hundred and fifty lectures on the Assembly's Catechism. That Procter was not in error in supposing Mr. Willard open to reason on the subject is demonstrated by the fact, that the "afflicted girls" were beginning to cry out against this eminent divine. The Rev. John Bailey was one of the ejected ministers who had here sought refuge from oppression in the mother-country. He was a distinguished person, associated with Mr. Allen and Mr. Moody in the ministry of the First Church at Boston. Cotton Mather made him the subject of the strongest eulogium in his "Magnalia." Procter addressed his letter to these persons because he believed them to be superior in wisdom and candid in spirit. It cannot be doubted that the good men did what they could in his behalf, but in vain.

After his conviction, he asked—though it didn’t do any good—for enough time to prepare for death and to sort out his affairs and ensure the well-being of his family. It's been reported that Mr. Noyes refused to pray with him unless he admitted his guilt. The following letter, written by him to the ministers mentioned, on behalf of himself and his fellow prisoners, provides a truly shocking account of the abuses associated with the prosecutions. It shows the writer’s bravery in exposing them and is a thoughtful and strong appeal and protest. There’s reason to believe that the ministers addressed were not completely taken in by the delusion. The fact that Mr. Mather—meaning Increase Mather—is first on the list supports other evidence that he was starting to have doubts about the appropriateness[ii.309] of the proceedings. A lot has been said about the Rev. James Allen in connection with the Townsend-Bishop farm. He had been a clergyman in England and was silenced by the Act of Uniformity in 1662. He moved to New England and, after serving as an assistant to the Rev. Mr. Davenport at the First Church in Boston for six years, was ordained as its preacher in 1668. He was independent financially and later played a major role with those opposing the faction that had supported the witchcraft trials. He must have known Rebecca Nurse fairly well, and much of the influence that worked in her favor, which nearly saved her, can be credited to him; there was a special closeness between him and Increase Mather, and together they managed to keep Cotton Mather somewhat in line, at least occasionally. The Rev. Joshua Moody had settled in the ministry in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. He endured long imprisonment while defending the principles of religious liberty and was later exiled by arbitrary power. He was then invited to join the First Church in Boston, where he preached from 1684 to 1693, when he returned to Portsmouth. He died in 1697. Through his diligent efforts, Mr. and Mrs. English were able to escape from jail in Boston. The Rev. Samuel Willard, pastor of the Old South Church in Boston, was one of the most respected and loved ministers in the country. He published numerous scholarly and valuable works, including discourses, tracts, and volumes. His "Body of Divinity" is a detailed and systematic[ii.310] work, comprising two hundred and fifty lectures on the Assembly's Catechism. Procter was right to think Mr. Willard was open to reason on this topic, as shown by the fact that the "afflicted girls" were starting to speak out against this prominent divine. The Rev. John Bailey was one of the ejected ministers who had sought refuge from oppression in the mother country. He was a notable figure, associated with Mr. Allen and Mr. Moody in the ministry of the First Church in Boston. Cotton Mather gave him a strong tribute in his "Magnalia." Procter addressed his letter to these individuals because he believed them to be wise and open-minded. There’s no doubt that these good men did what they could to help him, but it was all in vain.

"Salem Prison, July 23, 1692.

"Salem Prison, July 23, 1692."

"Mr. Mather, Mr. Allen, Mr. Moody, Mr. Willard, and Mr. Bailey.

Mr. Mather, Mr. Allen, Mr. Moody, Mr. Willard, and Mr. Bailey.

"Reverend Gentlemen,—The innocency of our case, with the enmity of our accusers and our judges and jury, whom nothing but our innocent blood will serve, having condemned us already before our trials, being so much incensed and enraged against us by the Devil, makes us bold to beg and implore your favorable assistance of this our humble petition to His Excellency, that if it be possible our innocent blood may be spared, which undoubtedly otherwise will be shed, if the Lord doth not mercifully step in; the magistrates, ministers, juries, and all the people in general, being[ii.311] so much enraged and incensed against us by the delusion of the Devil, which we can term no other, by reason we know, in our own consciences, we are all innocent persons. Here are five persons who have lately confessed themselves to be witches, and do accuse some of us of being along with them at a sacrament, since we were committed into close prison, which we know to be lies. Two of the five are (Carrier's sons) young men, who would not confess any thing till they tied them neck and heels, till the blood was ready to come out of their noses; and it is credibly believed and reported this was the occasion of making them confess what they never did, by reason they said one had been a witch a month, and another five weeks, and that their mother made them so, who has been confined here this nine weeks. My son, William Procter, when he was examined, because he would not confess that he was guilty, when he was innocent, they tied him neck and heels till the blood gushed out at his nose, and would have kept him so twenty-four hours, if one, more merciful than the rest, had not taken pity on him, and caused him to be unbound.

"Rev Gentlemen,—The innocence of our situation, combined with the hostility of our accusers and the judges and jury, who are determined to see us suffer unless our innocent blood is spilled, has led them to condemn us even before our trials. They are extremely angry and fueled by the Devil against us, which gives us the courage to humbly ask for your support in this petition to His Excellency. If at all possible, we plead that our innocent blood may be spared, as it will surely be shed if the Lord does not intervene mercifully; the magistrates, ministers, juries, and the general public are all filled with rage against us due to what we can only call the Devil's deception, knowing full well in our hearts that we are all innocent. There are five individuals who have recently admitted to being witches and are accusing some of us of being involved in their actions during a sacrament while we have been held in close confinement, which we know to be false. Two of these five are young men (Carrier's sons) who did not confess anything until they were tied up so tightly that blood almost came from their noses. It is widely believed that this led them to falsely admit to actions they never committed, claiming one had been a witch for a month and another for five weeks, stating their mother was responsible for their supposed witchcraft, who has been imprisoned here for the last nine weeks. My son, William Procter, when questioned, refused to admit guilt for something he did not do. They tied him up until blood flowed from his nose and would have kept him in that state for twenty-four hours if someone more compassionate hadn’t taken pity on him and ordered him to be unbound."

"These actions are very like the Popish cruelties. They have already undone us in our estates, and that will not serve their turns without our innocent blood. If it cannot be granted that we can have our trials at Boston, we humbly beg that you would endeavor to have these magistrates changed, and others in their room; begging also and beseeching you, that you would be pleased to be here, if not all, some of you, at our trials, hoping thereby you may be the means of saving the shedding of our innocent blood. Desiring your prayers to the Lord in our behalf, we rest, your poor afflicted servants,

"These actions are very similar to the cruel acts of the Catholics. They have already ruined us financially, and that won't be enough for them without our innocent blood. If we can't be tried in Boston, we kindly ask that you work to have these judges replaced with others. We also plead with you to be present, if not all of you, at our trials, hoping that by doing so, you might help prevent the shedding of our innocent blood. We request your prayers to the Lord on our behalf, and remain your distressed servants,

"John Procter [and others]."

"John Procter [and others]."

The bitterness of the prosecutors against Procter was so vehement, that they not only arrested, and tried to destroy, his wife and all his family above the age of infancy, in Salem, but all her relatives in Lynn, many of whom were thrown into prison. The helpless children were left destitute, and the house swept of its provisions by the sheriff. Procter's wife gave birth to a child, about a fortnight after his execution. This indicates to what alone she owed her life.

The anger of the prosecutors toward Procter was so intense that they not only arrested and tried to ruin his wife and all his family members over the age of infancy in Salem, but also targeted her relatives in Lynn, many of whom ended up in prison. The vulnerable children were left without support, and the sheriff cleared the house of its supplies. Procter's wife gave birth to a child about two weeks after his execution. This shows what she owed for her survival.

John Procter had spoken so boldly against the proceedings, and all who had part in them, that it was felt to be necessary to put him out of the way. He had denounced the entire company of the accusers, and their revenge demanded his sacrifice. They brought the whole power of their cunning and audacious arts to bear against him, and pursued him to the death with violence and rage. The manly and noble deportment exhibited in his dying hour seems to have made a deep impression on the minds of some, and gave an effectual blow to the delusion. The descendants of John Procter have always understood that his remains were recovered from the spot where the hangman deposited them, and placed in his own grounds, where they rest to-day.

John Procter had spoken so boldly against the trials and everyone involved that it was deemed necessary to get rid of him. He had condemned the entire group of accusers, and their need for revenge demanded his sacrifice. They used all their cleverness and audacity to go after him, pursuing him to his death with violence and rage. The strong and noble way he faced his final moments seems to have made a lasting impact on some people, effectively shaking the illusion. The descendants of John Procter have always known that his remains were retrieved from where the hangman left them and placed in his own property, where they rest today.

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No account has come to us of the deportment of George Jacobs, Sr., at his execution. As he was remarkable in life for the firmness of his mind, so he probably was in death. He had made his will before the delusion arose. It is dated Jan. 29, 1692; and shows that he, like Procter, had a considerable estate.[ii.315] Bartholomew Gedney is one of the attesting witnesses, and probably wrote the document. After his conviction, on the 12th of August, he caused another to be written, which, in its provisions, reflects light upon the state of mind produced by the condition in which he found himself. In his infirm old age, he had been condemned to die for a crime of which he knew himself innocent, and which there is some reason to believe he did not think any one capable of committing. He regarded the whole thing as a wicked conspiracy and absurd fabrication. He had to end his long life upon a scaffold in a week from that day. His house was desolated, and his property sequestered. His only son, charged with the same crime, had eluded the sheriff,—leaving his family, in the hurry of his flight, unprovided for—and was an exile in foreign lands. The crazy wife of that son was in prison and in chains, waiting trial on the same charge; her little children, including an unweaned infant, left in a deserted and destitute condition in the woods. The older children were scattered, he knew not where, while one of them had completed the bitterness of his lot by becoming a confessor, upon being arrested with her mother as a witch. This grand-daughter, Margaret, overwhelmed with fright and horror, bewildered by the statements of the accusers, and controlled probably by the arguments and arbitrary methods of address employed by her minister, Mr. Noyes,—whose peculiar function in these proceedings seems to have been to drive persons accused to make confession—had been betrayed into[ii.316] that position, and became a confessor, and accuser of others. Under these circumstances, the old man made a will, giving to his son George his estates, and securing the succession of them to his male descendants. But, in the mean while, without his then knowing it, Margaret had recalled her confession, as appears from the following documents, which tell their own story:—

No report has reached us about George Jacobs, Sr.'s behavior during his execution. He was known for his strong mind in life, so he likely remained steadfast in death. He had written his will before the hysteria began. It’s dated January 29, 1692, and shows that, like Procter, he had a significant estate.[ii.315] Bartholomew Gedney is one of the witnesses to the will and probably drafted it. After his conviction on August 12, he arranged for another will to be written, which highlights his mental state given the circumstances he faced. In his frail old age, he was sentenced to die for a crime he knew he didn't commit, one he believed no one could even be capable of committing. He viewed the whole situation as a malicious conspiracy and absurd sham. He had to end his long life on a scaffold just a week from that day. His home was torn apart, and his property confiscated. His only son, accused of the same crime, had escaped the sheriff—leaving his family unprovided for in the rush of his flight—and was now an exile in another country. His son’s unstable wife was locked up, waiting for trial on the same accusation; their young children, including an infant, were left in a deserted and desperate state in the woods. The older kids were scattered, and he didn't know where they had gone, with one of them suffering the added misery of being arrested alongside her mother as a witch. This granddaughter, Margaret, overwhelmed with fear and confusion, swayed by the claims of the accusers and likely influenced by the arguments and tactics of her minister, Mr. Noyes—whose role seemed to be to pressure the accused into confessing—had been led into[ii.316] that role and became a confessor, also accusing others. Given these circumstances, the old man made a will, leaving his lands to his son George and ensuring they would pass down to his male descendants. However, unbeknownst to him at the time, Margaret had retracted her confession, as indicated by the following documents, which reveal their own story:—

"The Humble Declaration of Margaret Jacobs unto the Honored Court now sitting at Salem showeth, that, whereas your poor and humble declarant, being closely confined here in Salem jail for the crime of witchcraft,—which crime, thanks be to the Lord! I am altogether ignorant of, as will appear at the great day of judgment,—may it please the honored Court, I was cried out upon by some of the possessed persons as afflicting them; whereupon I was brought to my examination; which persons at the sight of me fell down, which did very much startle and affright me. The Lord above knows I knew nothing in the least measure how or who afflicted them. They told me, without doubt I did, or else they would not fall down at me; they told me, if I would not confess, I should be put down into the dungeon, and would be hanged, but, if I would confess, I should have my life: the which did so affright me, with my own vile, wicked heart, to save my life, made me make the like confession I did, which confession, may it please the honored Court, is altogether false and untrue. The very first night after I had made confession, I was in such horror of conscience that I could not sleep, for fear the Devil should carry me away for telling such horrid lies. I was, may it please the honored Court, sworn to my confession, as I understand[ii.317] since; but then, at that time, was ignorant of it, not knowing what an oath did mean. The Lord, I hope, in whom I trust, out of the abundance of his mercy, will forgive me my false forswearing myself. What I said was altogether false against my grandfather and Mr. Burroughs, which I did to save my life, and to have my liberty: but the Lord, charging it to my conscience, made me in so much horror, that I could not contain myself before I had denied my confession, which I did, though I saw nothing but death before me; choosing rather death with a quiet conscience, than to live in such horror, which I could not suffer. Where, upon my denying my confession, I was committed to close prison, where I have enjoyed more felicity in spirit, a thousand times, than I did before in my enlargement. And now, may it please Your Honors, your declarant having in part given Your Honors a description of my condition, do leave it to Your Honors' pious and judicious discretions to take pity and compassion on my young and tender years, to act and do with me as the Lord above and Your Honors shall see good, having no friend but the Lord to plead my cause for me; not being guilty, in the least measure, of the crime of witchcraft, nor any other sin that deserves death from man. And your poor and humble declarant shall for ever pray, as she is bound in duty, for Your Honors' happiness in this life, and eternal felicity in the world to come. So prays Your Honors' declarant,

The Humble Declaration of Margaret Jacobs to the Honored Court now sitting at Salem shows that while I, a poor and humble declarant, am stuck here in Salem jail for the crime of witchcraft—which I swear to the Lord I'm completely unaware of, as will be revealed on Judgment Day—may it please the honored Court, I was accused by some of the afflicted people of causing them harm. Because of this, I was brought in for questioning; upon seeing me, those individuals fell down, which terrified me greatly. The Lord knows I had no idea how or why they were affected. They insisted that I must be guilty, or else they wouldn’t have collapsed in front of me. They threatened me, saying if I didn’t confess, I would be thrown into a dungeon and hanged, but if I confessed, I would be spared. Out of fear and my own wretchedness, I made a false confession to save my life, which, I respectfully tell the honored Court, is completely untrue. That very first night after I confessed, I was so tormented with guilt I couldn’t sleep, fearing the Devil would claim me for telling such terrible lies. I was made to swear to my confession, as I now understand[ii.317], but at that moment, I did not grasp the meaning of an oath. I hope and trust that the Lord, in His abundant mercy, will forgive me for falsely swearing. What I said against my grandfather and Mr. Burroughs was entirely false, done only to save my life and regain my freedom. However, the Lord weighed heavily on my conscience, and the horror I felt became so overwhelming that I couldn’t bear it before I denied my confession, even though death seemed inevitable before me. I would rather face death with a clear conscience than live in such torment, which I could not tolerate. After I denied my confession, I was sent to solitary confinement, where I have found much more peace in my spirit, a thousand times over, than I did before when I was free. Now, may it please Your Honors, I’ve shared a part of my situation with you, and I leave it in your compassionate and wise hands to show mercy for my young and vulnerable years. I ask that you act according to what the Lord and your own judgment deem right, as I have no one but the Lord to plead my case. I am not guilty, in any way, of the crime of witchcraft or any other sin deserving of death. And your poor and humble declarant will forever pray, as is my duty, for your happiness in this life and eternal joy in the life to come. So prays your honors' declarant.

Margaret Jacobs."

Margaret Jacobs.

The following letter was written by this same young person to her father. Let it be observed that her grandfather had been executed the day before, partly upon her false testimony.[ii.318]

The following letter was written by the same young person to her father. It's important to note that her grandfather was executed the day before, partly because of her false testimony.[ii.318]

"From the Dungeon in Salem Prison.

From the Dungeon in Salem Prison.

"August 20, 1692.

August 20, 1692.

"Honored Father,—After my humble duty remembered to you, hoping in the Lord of your good health, as, blessed be God! I enjoy, though in abundance of affliction, being close confined here in a loathsome dungeon: the Lord look down in mercy upon me, not knowing how soon I shall be put to death, by means of the afflicted persons; my grandfather having suffered already, and all his estate seized for the king. The reason of my confinement is this: I having, through the magistrates' threatenings, and my own vile and wretched heart, confessed several things contrary to my conscience and knowledge, though to the wounding of my own soul; (the Lord pardon me for it!) but, oh! the terrors of a wounded conscience who can bear? But, blessed be the Lord! he would not let me go on in my sins, but in mercy, I hope, to my soul, would not suffer me to keep it any longer: but I was forced to confess the truth of all before the magistrates, who would not believe me; but it is their pleasure to put me in here, and God knows how soon I shall be put to death. Dear father, let me beg your prayers to the Lord on my behalf, and send us a joyful and happy meeting in heaven. My mother, poor woman, is very crazy, and remembers her kind love to you, and to uncle; viz., D.A. So, leaving you to the protection of the Lord, I rest, your dutiful daughter,

"Dear Dad,—After I send my humble greetings to you, hoping in the Lord that you are in good health, as I, blessed be God! am, despite being stuck here in a horrible dungeon. May the Lord have mercy on me, as I don’t know how soon I will be put to death due to the sufferings of others; my grandfather has already gone through this, and his entire estate has been taken by the king. The reason for my confinement is this: I, out of fear from the magistrates and my own miserable heart, confessed to several things against my conscience and knowledge, which has deeply wounded my soul; (may the Lord forgive me for it!) but oh! who can endure the torments of a guilty conscience? But, blessed be the Lord! He wouldn’t let me continue in my sins, and His mercy, I hope, is saving my soul by not allowing me to bear it any longer: I was forced to tell the truth before the magistrates, who refused to believe me; it's their decision to keep me here, and only God knows how soon I will face death. Dear father, please pray to the Lord for me, and may we have a joyful and happy reunion in heaven. My mother, poor thing, is quite unwell and remembers her love for you and for uncle; that is, D.A. So, I leave you in the Lord’s protection, and remain your dutiful daughter,"

Margaret Jacobs."

Margaret Jacobs.

A temporary illness led to the postponement of her trial; and, before the next sitting of the Court, the delusion had passed away.

A temporary illness caused her trial to be delayed, and by the time the Court convened again, the delusion had cleared up.

The "uncle D.A.," referred to, was Daniel Andrew, their nearest neighbor, who had escaped at the[ii.319] same time with her father. She calls him "uncle." He was, it is probable, a brother of John Andrew who had married Ann Jacobs, sister of her father. Words of relationship were then used with a wide sense.

The "uncle D.A." they mentioned was Daniel Andrew, their closest neighbor, who had escaped at the[ii.319] same time as her father. She calls him "uncle." It's likely he was a brother of John Andrew, who had married Ann Jacobs, her father's sister. Back then, terms of kinship were used more loosely.

Margaret read the recantation of her confession before the Court, and was, as she says, forthwith ordered by them into a dungeon. She obtained permission to visit Mr. Burroughs the day before his execution, acknowledged that she had belied him, and implored his forgiveness. He freely forgave, and prayed with her and for her. It is probable, that, at the same time, she obtained an interview with her grandfather for the same purpose. At any rate, the old man heard of her heroic conduct, and forthwith crowded into the space between two paragraphs in his will, in small letters closely written (the jailer probably being the amanuensis), a clause giving a legacy of "ten pounds to be paid in silver" to his grand-daughter, Margaret Jacobs. There is the usual declaration, that it "was inserted before sealing and signing." This will having been made after conviction and sentence to death, and having but two witnesses, one besides the jailer, was not allowed in Probate, but remains among the files of that Court. As a link in the foregoing story, it is an interesting relic. The legacy clause, although not operative, was no doubt of inexpressible value to the feelings of Margaret: and the circumstance seems to have touched the heart even of the General Court, nearly twenty years afterwards; for they took pains specifically to[ii.320] provide to have the same sum paid to Margaret, out of the Province treasury.

Margaret read the retraction of her confession before the Court and was immediately ordered by them into a dungeon. She got permission to visit Mr. Burroughs the day before his execution, admitted that she had lied about him, and asked for his forgiveness. He forgave her freely and prayed with her and for her. It's likely that, at the same time, she met with her grandfather for the same reason. In any case, the old man learned about her brave actions and quickly added a clause between two paragraphs in his will, written in small letters (likely by the jailer), leaving a legacy of "ten pounds to be paid in silver" to his granddaughter, Margaret Jacobs. There’s the usual statement that it "was inserted before sealing and signing." Since this will was made after conviction and sentencing to death and only had two witnesses—one being the jailer—it wasn't allowed in Probate but remains among the court records. As a part of the previous story, it’s an interesting relic. Although the legacy clause wasn't legally enforceable, it must have meant a lot to Margaret's feelings; and this situation seems to have touched the heart of the General Court nearly twenty years later, as they made a point of specifically providing the same amount to be paid to Margaret from the Province treasury.

She was not tried at the time appointed, in consequence, it is stated, of "an imposthume in the head," and finally escaped the fate to which she chose to consign herself, rather than remain under a violated conscience. In judging of her, we cannot fail to make allowance for her "young and tender years," and to sympathize in the sufferings through which she passed. In making confession, and in accusing others, she had done that which filled her heart with horror, in the retrospect, so long as she lived. In recanting it, and giving her body to the dungeon, and offering her life at the scaffold, she had secured the forgiveness of Mr. Burroughs and her aged grandfather, and deserves our forgiveness and admiration. Every human heart must rejoice that this young girl was saved. She lived to be a worthy matron and the founder of a numerous and respectable family.

She wasn’t tried at the scheduled time because, as stated, she had "an abscess in the head," and ultimately escaped the fate she had chosen for herself instead of living with a guilty conscience. When judging her, we should consider her "young and tender years" and feel compassion for the suffering she endured. In confessing and accusing others, she committed actions that weighed heavily on her heart for the rest of her life. By recanting, putting herself in the dungeon, and offering her life at the scaffold, she earned the forgiveness of Mr. Burroughs and her elderly grandfather, and she deserves our forgiveness and respect. Every human heart should rejoice that this young girl was saved. She went on to become a respected matriarch and the founder of a large and reputable family.

George Jacobs, Sr., is the only one, among the victims of the witchcraft prosecutions, the precise spot of whose burial is absolutely ascertained.

George Jacobs, Sr., is the only one among the victims of the witchcraft trials whose burial location is definitely known.

 

THE JACOBS HOUSE.

THE JACOBS HOUSE.

The tradition has descended through the family, that the body, after having been obtained at the place of execution, was strapped by a young grandson on the back of a horse, brought home to the farm, and buried beneath the shade of his own trees. Two sunken and weather-worn stones marked the spot. There the remains rested until 1864, when they were exhumed. They were enclosed again, and reverently redeposited[ii.321] in the same place. The skull was in a state of considerable preservation. An examination of the jawbones showed that he was a very old man at the time of his death, and had previously lost all his teeth. The length of some parts of the skeleton showed that he was a very tall man. These circumstances corresponded with the evidence, which was that he was tall of stature; so infirm as to walk with two staffs; with long, flowing white hair. The only article found, except the bones, was a metallic pin, which might have been used as a breastpin, or to hold together his aged locks. It is an observable fact, that he rests in his own ground still. He had lived for a great length of time on that spot; and it remains in his family and in his name to this day, having come down by direct descent. It is a beautiful locality: the land descends with a gradual and smooth declivity to the bank of the river. It is not much more than a mile from the city of Salem, and in full view from the main road.

The tradition has been passed down through the family that after the body was obtained from the place of execution, a young grandson would strap it on the back of a horse, bring it home to the farm, and bury it under the shade of its own trees. Two sunken, weathered stones marked the spot. The remains rested there until 1864, when they were exhumed. They were placed back in a container and respectfully reburied[ii.321] in the same place. The skull was fairly well-preserved. An examination of the jawbones indicated that he was very old at the time of his death and had previously lost all his teeth. The length of some parts of the skeleton showed that he was a very tall man. This matched the evidence that he was tall, so frail that he walked with two staffs, and had long, flowing white hair. The only item found along with the bones was a metal pin, which could have been used as a brooch or to keep his aged hair together. It's noteworthy that he still rests on his own land. He lived for a long time in that location, and it remains in his family and carries his name to this day, having been passed down directly. It's a beautiful area: the land slopes gently down to the riverbank. It’s not much more than a mile from the city of Salem and is fully visible from the main road.

John Willard appears to have been an honest and amiable person, an industrious farmer, having a comfortable estate, with a wife and three young children. He was a grandson of Old Bray Wilkins; whether by blood or marriage, I have not been able to ascertain. The indications are that he married a daughter of Thomas or Henry Wilkins, most probably the former, with both of whom he was a joint possessor of lands. He came from Groton; and it is for local antiquaries to discover whether he was a relative of the Rev. Samuel Willard of Boston. If so, the fact would[ii.322] shed much light upon our story. There is but one piece of evidence among the papers relating to his trial that deserves particular notice. It shows the horrid character of the charges made by the girls against prisoners at the bar, from their nature incapable of being refuted and which the prisoners knew to be false, but the Court, jury, and crowd implicitly believed. It also illustrates the completeness of the machinery got up by the "accusing girls" to give effect to their evidence. In addition to the evil gossip that could be scoured from all the country round, and to spectres of witches and ghosts of the dead, they brought into the scene angels and divine beings, and testified to what they were told by them. "The shining man," or the white man, was meant, in the following deposition, to be a spirit of this description:—

John Willard seems to have been an honest and friendly person, a hardworking farmer with a comfortable estate, a wife, and three young children. He was the grandson of Old Bray Wilkins; I haven't been able to find out if that was through blood or marriage. It looks like he married a daughter of Thomas or Henry Wilkins, most likely Thomas, since he jointly owned land with both of them. He came from Groton, and it’s up to local historians to find out if he was related to Rev. Samuel Willard of Boston. If he was, that fact would[ii.322] provide significant insight into our story. There's only one piece of evidence in the documents related to his trial that stands out. It reveals the dreadful nature of the accusations made by the girls against the people on trial, accusations that were so outrageous they couldn’t be disproven, even though the defendants knew they were false. Yet the Court, jury, and public all believed them completely. It also shows just how organized the "accusing girls" were in presenting their case. Besides the damaging gossip coming from all over the area and ghostly manifestations, they introduced angels and divine beings, claiming to testify to what they had been told by them. In the following deposition, “the shining man,” or the white man, referred to a spirit of this kind:—

"The Testimony of Susanna Sheldon, aged eighteen years or thereabouts.—Testifieth and saith, that, the day of the date hereof (9th of May, 1692), I saw at Nathaniel Ingersoll's house the apparitions of these four persons,—William Shaw's first wife, the Widow Cook, Goodman Jones and his child; and among these came the apparition of John Willard, to whom these four said, 'You have murdered us.' These four having said thus to Willard, they turned as red as blood. And, turning about to look at me, they turned as pale as death. These four desired me to tell Mr. Hathorne. Willard, hearing them, pulled out a knife, saying, if I did, he would cut my throat."

"The Testimony of Susanna Sheldon, about eighteen years old.—I testify that on this date (May 9, 1692), I saw the apparitions of four people at Nathaniel Ingersoll's house—William Shaw's first wife, the Widow Cook, Goodman Jones, and his child. Among them was the apparition of John Willard, and the four of them said to him, 'You have murdered us.' After saying this to Willard, they turned as red as blood. When they looked at me, they turned as pale as death. These four asked me to tell Mr. Hathorne. Upon hearing this, Willard pulled out a knife and said that if I did, he would cut my throat."

The deponent goes on to say, that these several apparitions came before her on another occasion, and the same language and actions took place, and adds:[ii.323]

The person giving testimony continues to say that these various appearances showed up again at a different time, and the same words and actions occurred, and adds:[ii.323]

"There did appear to me a shining man, who said I should go and tell what I had heard and seen to Mr. Hathorne. This Willard, being there present, told me, if I did, he would cut my throat. At this time and place, this shining man told me, that if I did go to tell this to Mr. Hathorne, that I should be well, going and coming, but I should be afflicted there. Then said I to the shining man, 'Hunt Willard away, and I would believe what he said, that he might not choke me.' With that the shining man held up his hand, and Willard vanished away. About two hours after, the same appeared to me again, and the said Willard with them; and I asked them where their wounds were, and they said there would come an angel from heaven, and would show them. And forthwith the angel came. I asked what the man's name was that appeared to me last, and the angel told his name was Southwick. And the angel lifted up his winding-sheet, and out of his left side he pulled a pitchfork tine, and put it in again, and likewise he opened all the winding-sheets, and showed all their wounds. And the white man told me to tell Mr. Hathorne of it, and I told him to hunt Willard away, and I would; and he held up his hand, and he vanished away."

"I saw a shining man who told me to go and tell Mr. Hathorne what I had heard and seen. Willard, who was present, warned me that if I did, he would cut my throat. At that moment, the shining man told me that if I went to tell Mr. Hathorne, I would be safe going and coming, but I would be troubled there. I then said to the shining man, 'Get Willard away, and I will believe what he said, so he won't harm me.' The shining man raised his hand, and Willard disappeared. About two hours later, the same shining man appeared to me again, with Willard. I asked them where their wounds were, and they said an angel from heaven would show them. Suddenly, the angel came. I asked what the name of the man who appeared to me last was, and the angel said his name was Southwick. The angel lifted up his burial shroud, pulled a tine from a pitchfork out of his left side, and then put it back in. He also opened all the burial shrouds and showed all their wounds. The white man told me to inform Mr. Hathorne about this, and I told him to get Willard away, and I would; and he raised his hand, and he disappeared."

In the same deposition, this girl testifies that "she saw this Willard suckle the apparitions of two black pigs on his breasts;" that Willard told her he had been a witch twenty years; that she saw Willard and other wizards kneel in prayer "to the black man with a long-crowned hat, and then they vanished away."

In the same deposition, this girl testifies that "she saw this Willard nursing the apparitions of two black pigs on his chest;" that Willard told her he had been a witch for twenty years; that she saw Willard and other wizards kneel in prayer "to the dark figure with a tall hat, and then they disappeared."

Such was the kind of testimony which the Court received with awe-struck and bewildered credulity,[ii.324] and which took away the lives of valuable and blameless men. All we know of the manner of Willard's death is a passage from Brattle, who states that a deep impression was produced by the admirable deportment of the sufferers during the awful scenes before and at their executions; giving every evidence of conscious innocence and a Christian character and faith, on the part especially of "Procter and Willard, whose whole management of themselves from the jail to the gallows, and whilst at the gallows, was very affecting, and melting to the hearts of some considerable spectators whom I could mention to you: but they are executed, and so I leave them."

Such was the kind of testimony that the Court received with shocked and confused belief,[ii.324] and which led to the deaths of valuable and innocent men. All we know about Willard's death comes from Brattle, who mentions that the admirable behavior of the victims during the terrible scenes before and during their executions made a strong impression; they showed clear signs of innocence and a Christian spirit and faith, particularly "Procter and Willard, whose entire demeanor from the jail to the gallows, and while at the gallows, was very moving and touched the hearts of some significant spectators I could name: but they are executed, and so I leave them."

On the 9th of September, the Court met again; and Martha Corey, Mary Easty, Alice Parker, Ann Pudeator, Dorcas Hoar, and Mary Bradbury were tried and condemned; and, on the 17th, Margaret Scott, Wilmot Reed, Samuel Wardwell, Mary Parker, Abigail Faulkner, Rebecca Eames, Mary Lacy, Ann Foster, and Abigail Hobbs received the same sentence. Those in Italics were executed Sept. 22, 1692. Of the circumstances in relation to them, in reference to their death and at the time of their execution, but little information has reached us. The following extract from Mr. Parris's church-records presents a striking picture:—

On September 9th, the Court met again, and Martha Corey, Mary Easty, Alice Parker, Ann Pudeator, Dorcas Hoar, and Mary Bradbury were tried and found guilty; then on the 17th, Margaret Scott, Wilmot Reed, Samuel Wardwell, Mary Parker, Abigail Faulkner, Rebecca Eames, Mary Lacy, Ann Foster, and Abigail Hobbs received the same verdict. Those in italics were executed on September 22, 1692. We have very little information about the circumstances surrounding their deaths and the time of their execution. The following excerpt from Mr. Parris's church records offers a striking picture:—

"11 September, Lord's Day.—Sister Martha Corey—taken into the church 27 April, 1690—was, after examination upon suspicion of witchcraft, 27 March, 1692, committed to prison for that fact, and was condemned to the[ii.325] gallows for the same yesterday; and was this day in public, by a general consent, voted to be excommunicated out of the church, and Lieutenant Nathaniel Putnam and the two deacons chosen to signify to her, with the pastor, the mind of the church herein. Accordingly, this 14 September, 1692, the three aforesaid brethren went with the pastor to her in Salem Prison; whom we found very obdurate, justifying herself, and condemning all that had done any thing to her just discovery or condemnation. Whereupon, after a little discourse (for her imperiousness would not suffer much), and after prayer,—which she was willing to decline,—the dreadful sentence of excommunication was pronounced against her."

"September 11, Lord's Day.—Sister Martha Corey—who was brought into the church on April 27, 1690—was examined on suspicion of witchcraft on March 27, 1692, and was committed to prison for that reason. She was sentenced to the[ii.325] gallows for the same yesterday; and today, by a unanimous vote, she was excommunicated from the church. Lieutenant Nathaniel Putnam and the two deacons were chosen to inform her, along with the pastor, of the church's decision. Accordingly, on September 14, 1692, the three aforementioned men went with the pastor to see her in Salem Prison. We found her very stubborn, defending herself and condemning all who contributed to her accusation or condemnation. After a brief conversation (as her stubbornness allowed for little), and after a prayer—one she was unwilling to participate in—the terrible sentence of excommunication was pronounced against her."

Calef informs us, that "Martha Corey, protesting her innocency, concluded her life with an eminent prayer upon the ladder."

Calef tells us that "Martha Corey, claiming her innocence, ended her life with a powerful prayer on the gallows."

Nothing has reached us particularly relating to the manner of death of Alice or Mary Parker, Ann Pudeator, Margaret Scott, or Wilmot Reed. They all asserted their innocence; and their deportment gave no ground for any unfavorable comment by their persecutors, who were on the watch to turn every act, word, or look of the sufferers to their disparagement. Wilmot Reed probably adhered to the unresisting demeanor which marked her examination. It was all a mystery to her; and to every question she answered, "I know nothing about it." Of Mary Easty it is grateful to have some account. Her own declarations in vindication of her innocence are fortunately preserved; and her noble record is complete in the fol[ii.326]lowing documents. The first appears to have been addressed to the Special Court, and was presented immediately before the trial of Mary Easty. No explanation has come down to us why Sarah Cloyse was not then also brought to trial. Circumstances to which we have no clew rescued her from the fate of her sisters.

Nothing specific has come to us regarding the deaths of Alice or Mary Parker, Ann Pudeator, Margaret Scott, or Wilmot Reed. They all claimed they were innocent, and their behavior didn't give their accusers any reason to criticize them, as those in power were eager to interpret any action, word, or glance of the accused negatively. Wilmot Reed likely maintained the calm demeanor she displayed during her questioning. It was all a mystery to her; whenever asked, she replied, "I know nothing about it." Thankfully, we have some account of Mary Easty. Her own statements defending her innocence have fortunately been preserved, and her honorable record is complete in the following documents. The first appears to have been directed at the Special Court and was submitted right before Mary Easty's trial. We have no explanation for why Sarah Cloyse wasn't also tried at that time. Circumstances that we have no information about saved her from the fate of her sisters.

"The Humble Request of Mary Easty and Sarah Cloyse to the Honored Court humbly showeth, that, whereas we two sisters, Mary Easty and Sarah Cloyse, stand now before the honored Court charged with the suspicion of witchcraft, our humble request is—First, that, seeing we are neither able to plead our own cause, nor is counsel allowed to those in our condition, that you who are our judges would please to be of counsel to us, to direct us wherein we may stand in need. Secondly, that, whereas we are not conscious to ourselves of any guilt in the least degree of that crime whereof we are now accused (in the presence of the living God we speak it, before whose awful tribunal we know we shall ere long appear), nor of any other scandalous evil or miscarriage inconsistent with Christianity, those who have had the longest and best knowledge of us, being persons of good report, may be suffered to testify upon oath what they know concerning each of us; viz., Mr. Capen, the pastor, and those of the town and church of Topsfield, who are ready to say something which we hope may be looked upon as very considerable in this matter, with the seven children of one of us; viz., Mary Easty: and it may be produced of like nature in reference to the wife of Peter Cloyse, her sister. Thirdly, that the testimony of witches, or such as are afflicted as is supposed by witches, may not be improved to[ii.327] condemn us without other legal evidence concurring. We hope the honored Court and jury will be so tender of the lives of such as we are, who have for many years lived under the unblemished reputation of Christianity, as not to condemn them without a fair and equal hearing of what may be said for us as well as against us. And your poor suppliants shall be bound always to pray, &c."

The Humble Request of Mary Easty and Sarah Cloyse to the Honored Court humbly shows that we, two sisters, Mary Easty and Sarah Cloyse, are now before the honored Court accused of witchcraft. Our humble request is—First, since we cannot defend ourselves and no counsel is allowed for people in our situation, we ask that you, our judges, please guide us in what we may need. Secondly, we are not aware of any guilt regarding the crime we are accused of (we speak this in the presence of the living God, before whose terrifying tribunal we know we will soon appear), nor of any other scandalous wrongdoing that contradicts Christianity. Those who know us best and longest, who have good reputations, should be allowed to testify under oath about what they know concerning each of us; specifically, Mr. Capen, the pastor, and others from the town and church of Topsfield, who are prepared to provide valuable testimony in this matter, along with the seven children of one of us, Mary Easty, and similar testimony regarding the wife of Peter Cloyse, her sister. Thirdly, we request that the testimony of alleged witches or those who are supposedly afflicted by witches not be used to [ii.327] condemn us without additional legal evidence supporting those claims. We hope the honored Court and jury will be careful with the lives of people like us, who have maintained a good reputation for many years, and will not condemn us without a fair and balanced hearing of all that can be said for us as well as against us. And your poor supplicants will always be grateful and pray, etc.

The following was presented by Mary Easty to the judges after she had received sentence of death. It would be hard to find, in all the records of human suffering and of Christian deportment under them, a more affecting production. It is a most beautiful specimen of strong good-sense, pious fortitude and faith, genuine dignity of soul, noble benevolence, and the true eloquence of a pure heart; and was evidently composed by her own hand. It may be said of her—and there can be no higher eulogium—that she felt for others more than for herself.

The following was presented by Mary Easty to the judges after she had received a death sentence. It would be hard to find, in all the records of human suffering and of Christian behavior under those circumstances, a more moving piece. It is a beautiful example of strong common sense, brave perseverance and faith, genuine dignity, noble kindness, and the true eloquence of a pure heart; and it was clearly written by her own hand. It can be said of her—and there can be no greater praise—that she cared for others more than for herself.

"The Humble Petition of Mary Easty unto his Excellency Sir William Phips, and to the Honored Judge and Bench now sitting in Judicature in Salem, and the Reverend Ministers, humbly showeth, that, whereas your poor and humble petitioner, being condemned to die, do humbly beg of you to take it in your judicious and pious consideration, that your poor and humble petitioner, knowing my own innocency, blessed be the Lord for it! and seeing plainly the wiles and subtilty of my accusers by myself, cannot but judge charitably of others that are going the same way of myself, if the Lord steps not mightily in. I was confined a whole month upon the same account that I am condemned[ii.328] now for, and then cleared by the afflicted persons, as some of Your Honors know. And in two days' time I was cried out upon them, and have been confined, and now am condemned to die. The Lord above knows my innocency then, and likewise does now, as at the great day will be known to men and angels. I petition to Your Honors not for my own life, for I know I must die, and my appointed time is set; but the Lord he knows it is that, if it be possible, no more innocent blood may be shed, which undoubtedly cannot be avoided in the way and course you go in. I question not but Your Honors do to the utmost of your powers in the discovery and detecting of witchcraft and witches, and would not be guilty of innocent blood for the world. But, by my own innocency, I know you are in the wrong way. The Lord in his infinite mercy direct you in this great work, if it be his blessed will that no more innocent blood be shed! I would humbly beg of you, that Your Honors would be pleased to examine these afflicted persons strictly, and keep them apart some time, and likewise to try some of these confessing witches; I being confident there is several of them, has belied themselves and others, as will appear, if not in this world, I am sure in the world to come, whither I am now agoing. I question not but you will see an alteration of these things. They say myself and others having made a league with the Devil, we cannot confess. I know, and the Lord knows, as will ... appear, they belie me, and so I question not but they do others. The Lord above, who is the Searcher of all hearts, knows, as I shall answer it at the tribunal seat, that I know not the least thing of witchcraft; therefore I cannot, I dare not, belie my own soul. I beg Your Honors not to deny this my humble petition from a poor, dying, innocent person. And I question not but the Lord will give a blessing to your endeavors."

The Humble Petition of Mary Easty to his Excellency Sir William Phips, the Honored Judge and Bench currently sitting in Judgment in Salem, and the Reverend Ministers, respectfully states, that, while your poor and humble petitioner is condemned to die, I humbly request that you consider my case wisely and with compassion, knowing my own innocence—blessed be the Lord for it!—and clearly seeing the tricks and deceit of my accusers by my own experience, I cannot help but view others facing the same fate as myself with charity, unless the Lord intervenes powerfully. I was imprisoned for a whole month for the same reasons I am now condemned[ii.328], and was then cleared by the afflicted individuals, as some of Your Honors know. Just two days later, I was accused again, and I have been imprisoned ever since, now facing the death penalty. The Lord above knows my innocence back then, and He knows it now; it will be revealed to both men and angels on the great day. I appeal to Your Honors not for my own life, since I know I must die and my time is set; however, the Lord knows that my true request is to prevent any more innocent blood from being shed, which can undoubtedly continue under the current course of action. I have no doubt that Your Honors are doing everything possible to discover and expose witchcraft and witches, and you would never want to be responsible for the death of an innocent person. But based on my own innocence, I know you are on the wrong path. May the Lord in His infinite mercy guide you in this important work, if it is His blessed will that no more innocent blood be spilt! I respectfully request that you examine these afflicted individuals closely, keep them separated for a time, and also interrogate some of these confessing witches; I am confident that several of them have lied, both about themselves and others, which will become clear, whether in this world or the next, where I am now headed. I have no doubt you will see a change in these matters. They say that I and others have made a pact with the Devil, preventing us from confessing. I know, and the Lord knows, as will ... be evident, that they are falsely accusing me, and I am sure they do the same to others. The Lord above, who searches all hearts, knows that, as I will answer at the judgment seat, I have no knowledge of witchcraft; therefore, I cannot, and I will not, betray my own soul. I implore Your Honors not to dismiss this humble petition from a poor, dying, innocent person. And I am confident that the Lord will bless your efforts.

The parting interview of this admirable woman with her husband, children, and friends, as she was about proceeding to the place of execution, is said to have been a most solemn, affecting, and truly sublime scene. Calef says that her farewell communications, on this occasion, were reported, by persons who listened to them, to have been "as serious, religious, distinct, and affectionate as could well be expressed, drawing tears from the eyes of almost all present."

The farewell meeting of this remarkable woman with her husband, children, and friends, just before she was taken to her execution, is described as a very serious, emotional, and truly profound scene. Calef notes that her goodbye messages during this time were described by those who heard them as "as serious, heartfelt, clear, and loving as could be expressed, bringing tears to the eyes of nearly everyone there."

Ann Pudeator had been formerly the wife of a person named Greenslitt, who left her with five children. Her subsequent husband, Jacob Pudeator, died in 1682, and by will gave her his whole estate, after the payment of legacies, of five pounds each, to her Greenslitt children, who appear to have been living in 1692 at Casco Bay. These provisions, as well as the expressions used by Pudeator, indicate that he regarded her with affection and esteem. The following document is all that we know else of her character particularly, except that she was a kind neighbor, and ever prompt in offices of charity and sympathy.

Ann Pudeator was previously married to a man named Greenslitt, who left her with five kids. Her second husband, Jacob Pudeator, died in 1682 and, in his will, left her his entire estate after paying five-pound legacies to her children from her marriage to Greenslitt, who were living in 1692 at Casco Bay. These provisions, along with the way Pudeator spoke about her, show that he held her in affection and respect. The following document is all we know about her character, except that she was a kind neighbor, always ready to help others and offer support.

"The Humble Petition of Ann Pudeator unto the Honored Judge and Bench now sitting in Judicature in Salem, humbly showeth, that, whereas your poor and humble petitioner, being condemned to die, and knowing in my own conscience, as I shall shortly answer it before the great God of heaven, who is the Searcher and Knower of all hearts, that the evidence of Jno. Best, Sr., and Jno. Best, Jr., and Samuel Pickworth, which was given in against me in Court, were all of them altogether false and untrue, and, besides the[ii.330] abovesaid Jno. Best hath been formerly whipped and likewise is recorded for a liar. I would humbly beg of Your Honors to take it into your judicious and pious consideration, that my life may not be taken away by such false evidences and witnesses as these be; likewise, the evidence given in against me by Sarah Churchill and Mary Warren I am altogether ignorant of, and know nothing in the least measure about it, nor nothing else concerning the crime of witchcraft, for which I am condemned to die, as will be known to men and angels at the great day of judgment. Begging and imploring your prayers at the Throne of Grace in my behalf, and your poor and humble petitioner shall for ever pray, as she is bound in duty, for Your Honors' health and happiness in this life, and eternal felicity in the world to come."

The Humble Petition of Ann Pudeator to the Honored Judge and Bench now sitting in Judgment in Salem, respectfully shows that, whereas your poor and humble petitioner, being condemned to die, and knowing in my own conscience, as I will soon answer it before the great God of heaven, who is the Searcher and Knower of all hearts, that the testimony of Jno. Best, Sr., and Jno. Best, Jr., and Samuel Pickworth, which was presented against me in Court, was completely false and untrue. Furthermore, the aforementioned Jno. Best has previously been whipped and is also recorded as a liar. I would respectfully ask Your Honors to consider, with your wisdom and piety, that my life should not be taken away based on such false evidence and witnesses. Additionally, I am completely unaware of the testimony against me from Sarah Churchill and Mary Warren, and I know nothing about it whatsoever, nor anything else regarding the crime of witchcraft for which I am sentenced to die, as will be known to all at the great day of judgment. I beg and implore your prayers at the Throne of Grace on my behalf, and your poor and humble petitioner will forever pray, as she is bound by duty, for Your Honors' health and happiness in this life, and eternal joy in the world to come.

Abigail, the wife of Francis Faulkner, and daughter of the Rev. Francis Dane, of Andover, who was among those sentenced on the 17th of September, had been examined, on the 11th of August, by Hathorne, Corwin, and Captain John Higginson, sitting as magistrates. Upon the prisoner's being brought in, the afflicted fell down, and went into fits, as usual. The magistrates asked the prisoner what she had to say. She replied, "I know nothing of it." The girls then renewed their performances, declaring that her shape was at that moment torturing them. The magistrates asked her if she did not see their sufferings. She answered, "Yes; but it is the Devil does it in my shape." Ann Putnam said that her spectre had afflicted her a few days before, pulling her off her horse.[ii.331] Upon the touch of her person, the sufferings of the afflicted would cease for a time. The prisoner held a handkerchief in her hand. The girls would screech out, declaring that, as she pressed the handkerchief, they were dreadfully squeezed. She threw the handkerchief on the table; and they said, "There are the shapes of Daniel Eames and Captain Floyd [two persons then in prison on the charge of witchcraft] sitting on her handkerchief." Mary Warren enacted the part of being dragged against her will under the table by an invisible hand, from whose grasp she was at once released, upon the prisoner's being made to touch her. Notwithstanding all this, she protested her innocence, and was remanded to jail. On the 30th, she was brought out again. In the mean while, six had been executed. The usual means were employed to break her down; but all that was gained was, that she owned she had expressed her indignation at the conduct of the afflicted, and was much excited against them "for bringing her kindred out, and she did wish them ill: and, her spirit being raised, she did pinch her hands together, and she knew not but that the Devil might take that advantage; but it was the Devil, and not she, that afflicted them." This was the only concession she would make; and they were puzzled to determine whether it was a confession, or not,—it having rather the appearance of clearing herself from all implication with the Devil, and leaving him on their hands—at any rate, they concluded to regard it in the latter sense; and she was[ii.332] duly convicted, and sentenced to death. Sir William Phips ordered a reprieve; and, after she had been thirteen weeks in prison, he directed her to be discharged on the ground of insufficient evidence. This, I think, is the only instance of a special pardon granted during the proceedings.

Abigail, the wife of Francis Faulkner and the daughter of Rev. Francis Dane from Andover, who was one of those sentenced on September 17, had been examined on August 11 by Hathorne, Corwin, and Captain John Higginson, who were acting as magistrates. When the prisoner was brought in, the afflicted girls fell to the floor and began their fits, as usual. The magistrates asked the prisoner what she had to say. She replied, "I know nothing about it." The girls then resumed their performances, claiming that her spirit was currently torturing them. The magistrates inquired if she could not see their suffering. She answered, "Yes; but it’s the Devil doing it in my shape." Ann Putnam stated that her specter had tormented her days earlier, pulling her off her horse.[ii.331] When the prisoner touched them, the afflicted would briefly stop suffering. The prisoner held a handkerchief in her hand. The girls screamed, claiming that as she squeezed the handkerchief, they were being crushed. She threw the handkerchief on the table, and they exclaimed, "There are the shapes of Daniel Eames and Captain Floyd [two individuals then imprisoned for witchcraft] sitting on her handkerchief." Mary Warren acted as if she were being dragged against her will under the table by an invisible force, from which she was immediately released when the prisoner touched her. Despite all this, she maintained her innocence and was sent back to jail. On the 30th, she was brought out again. In the meantime, six people had been executed. The typical methods were used to break her down; however, all that was gained was her admission that she had expressed anger at the behavior of the afflicted and felt very reactive towards them "for bringing her relatives into it, and she wished them ill: and, with her spirit raised, she pinched her hands together, and she didn’t know if the Devil could take advantage of that; but it was the Devil, not her, who afflicted them." This was the only concession she made; they were confused about whether it was a confession or not—it seemed more like she was trying to clear herself of any connection with the Devil, leaving him on their hands—in any case, they decided to interpret it that way; and she was[ii.332] officially convicted and sentenced to death. Sir William Phips ordered a reprieve; and after she had spent thirteen weeks in prison, he directed her release due to insufficient evidence. This, I believe, is the only case of a special pardon granted during the proceedings.

Samuel Wardwell, like most of the accused belonging to Andover, had originally joined the crowd of the confessors; but he was too much of a man to remain in that company. He took back his confession, and met his death. While he was speaking to the people, at the gallows, declaring his innocency, a puff of tobacco-smoke from the pipe of the executioner, as Calef informs us, "coming in his face, interrupted his discourse: those accusers said that the Devil did hinder him with smoke." The wicked creatures followed their victims to the last with their malignant outrages. The cart that carried the prisoners, on this occasion, to the hill, "was for some time at a set: the afflicted and others said that the Devil hindered it," &c.

Samuel Wardwell, like most of the accused from Andover, had initially joined the group of confessors; but he was too much of a man to stay with them. He recanted his confession and faced his death. While he was addressing the crowd at the gallows, proclaiming his innocence, a puff of tobacco smoke from the executioner's pipe, as Calef tells us, "came in his face and interrupted his speech: those accusers claimed that the Devil was hindering him with smoke." The wicked ones continued to torment their victims until the very end. The cart that carried the prisoners to the hill "was stuck for a while: the afflicted and others claimed that the Devil was holding it back," etc.

The route by which they were conveyed from the jail, which was at the north corner of Federal and St. Peter's Streets, to the gallows, must have been a cruelly painful and fatiguing one, particularly to infirm and delicate persons, as many of them were. It was through St. Peter's, up the whole length of Essex, and thence probably along Boston Street, far towards Aborn Street; for the hill could only be ascended from that direction. It must have been a rough and jolting[ii.333] operation; and it is not strange that the cart got "set." It seems that the prisoners were carried in a single cart. It was a large one, provided probably for the occasion; and it is not unlikely that the reason why some who had been condemned were not executed, was that the cart could not hold them all at once. They were executed, one in June, five in July, five in August, and eight in September, with the intention, no doubt, by taking them in instalments, to extend the acts of the tragedy, from month to month, indefinitely.

The route they took from the jail, located at the north corner of Federal and St. Peter's Streets, to the gallows must have been extremely painful and exhausting, especially for the weak and delicate among them. They went through St. Peter's, the entire length of Essex, and likely along Boston Street, heading toward Aborn Street; after all, the hill could only be climbed from that direction. It must have been a rough and bumpy[ii.333] ride, and it’s not surprising that the cart got "stuck." Apparently, the prisoners were transported in a single cart—a large one presumably put together for this purpose; it’s quite possible that some of those sentenced were not executed simply because the cart couldn’t fit everyone at once. They executed one in June, five in July, five in August, and eight in September, likely to drag out the events of this tragedy over several months indefinitely.

It was necessary for the safety of the accusers and prosecutors to prevent a revulsion of the public mind, or even the least diminution of the popular violence against the supposed witches. As they all protested their innocence to the moment of death, and exhibited a remarkably Christian deportment throughout the dreadful scenes they were called to encounter from their arrest to their execution, there was reason to apprehend that the people would gradually be led to feel a sympathy for them, if not to entertain doubts of their guilt. To prevent this, and remove any impressions favorable to them that might be made by the conduct and declarations of the convicts, the prosecutors were on the alert. After the prisoners had been swung off, on the 22d of September, "turning him to the bodies, Mr. Noyes said, 'What a sad thing it is to see eight firebrands of hell hanging there!'" It was the last time his eyes were regaled by such a sight. There were no more executions on Witch Hill.[ii.334]

It was essential for the safety of the accusers and prosecutors to avoid a backlash from the public or even the slightest reduction in the anger towards the alleged witches. Since all the accused maintained their innocence up until their deaths and behaved with remarkable Christian grace throughout the horrific experiences they faced from arrest to execution, there was concern that people might begin to feel sympathy for them, if not question their guilt. To prevent this and eliminate any positive impressions that might arise from the actions and statements of the condemned, the prosecutors were vigilant. After the prisoners were hanged on September 22nd, Mr. Noyes remarked while looking at the bodies, "What a sad thing it is to see eight firebrands of hell hanging there!" It was the last time he witnessed such a sight. There were no more executions on Witch Hill.[ii.334]

Three days before, a life had been taken by the officers of the law in a manner so extraordinary, and marked by features so shocking, that they find no parallel in the annals of America, and will continue to arrest for ever the notice of mankind. The history and character of old Giles Corey have been given in preceding parts of this work. The only papers relating to him, on file as having been sworn to before the Grand Jury, are a few brief depositions. If he had been put on trial, we might have had more. Elizabeth Woodwell testifies, that "she saw Giles Corey at meeting at Salem on a lecture-day, since he has been in prison. He or his apparition came in, and sat in the middlemost seat of the men's seats, by the post. This was the lecture-day before Bridget Bishop was hanged. And I saw him come out with the rest of the people." Mary Walcot, of course, swore to the same. And Mary Warren swore that Corey was hostile to her and afflicted her, because he thought she "caused her master (John Procter) to ask more for a piece of meadow than he (Corey) was willing to give." She also charged him with "afflicting of her" by his spectre while he was in prison, and "described him in all his garments, both of hat, coat, and the color of them,—with a cord about his waist and a white cap on his head, and in chains." There is reason to believe, that, while in prison, he experienced great distress of mind. Although he had been a rough character in earlier life, and given occasion to much scandal by his disregard of public opinion, he always exhibited symp[ii.335]toms of a generous and sensitive nature. His foolish conduct in becoming so passionately engaged in the witchcraft proceedings, at their earliest stage, as to be incensed against his wife because she did not approve of or believe in them, and which led him to utter sentiments and expressions that had been used against her; and so far yielding to the accusers as to allow them to get from him the deposition, which, while it failed to satisfy their demands, it was shameful for him to have been persuaded to give,—all these things, which after his own apprehension and imprisonment he had leisure to ponder upon, preyed on his mind. He saw the awful character of the delusion to which he had lent himself; that it had brought his prayerful and excellent wife to the sentence of death, which had already been executed upon many other devout and worthy persons. He knew that he was innocent of the crime of witchcraft, and was now satisfied that all others were. Besides his own unfriendly course towards his wife, two of his four sons-in-law had turned against her. One (Crosby) had testified, and another (Parker) had allowed his name to be used, as an adverse witness. In view of all this, Corey made up his mind, determined on his course, and stood to that determination. He resolved to expiate his own folly by a fate that would satisfy the demands of the sternest criticism upon his conduct; proclaim his abhorrence of the prosecutions; and attest the strength of his feelings towards those of his children who had been false, and those who had been true, to his wife.[ii.336] He caused to be drawn up what has been called a will, although it is in reality a deed, and was duly recorded as such. Its phraseology is very strongly guarded, and made to give it clear, full, and certain effect. It begins thus: "Know ye, &c., that I, Giles Corey, lying under great trouble and affliction, through which I am very weak in body, but in perfect memory,—knowing not how soon I may depart this life; in consideration of which, and for the fatherly love and affection which I have and do bear unto my beloved son-in-law, William Cleeves, of the town of Beverly, and to my son-in-law, John Moulton, of the town of Salem, as also for divers other good causes and considerations me at the present especially moving;" and proceeds to convey and confirm all his property—"lands, meadow, housing, cattle, stock, movables and immovables, money, apparel, ... and all other the aforesaid premises, with their appurtenances"—to the said Cleeves and Moulton "for ever, freely and quietly, without any manner of challenge, claim, or demand of me the said Giles Corey, or of any other person or persons whatsoever for me in my name, or by my cause, means, or procurement;" and, in the use of all the language applicable to that end, he warrants and binds himself to defend the aforesaid conveyance and grant to Cleeves and Moulton, their heirs, executors, administrators, and assigns for ever. The document was properly signed, sealed, and delivered in the presence of competent witnesses, whose several signatures are indorsed to that effect. It was duly acknowledged[ii.337] before "Thomas Wade, Justice of the Peace in Essex," and recorded forthwith. This transaction took place in the jail at Ipswich.

Three days ago, a life was lost at the hands of law enforcement in a way so unusual and filled with shocking details that it has no comparison in American history and will forever capture public attention. The background and story of old Giles Corey were described in earlier sections of this work. The only documents on file that were sworn in front of the Grand Jury are a few short testimonies. If he had been tried, we might have had more information. Elizabeth Woodwell testified that “she saw Giles Corey at a church service in Salem on a lecture day, after he was imprisoned. He or his ghost appeared and sat in the middle of the men’s section, by the post. This was the lecture day before Bridget Bishop was hanged. And I saw him leave with the rest of the crowd.” Mary Walcot also testified to the same. Mary Warren stated that Corey was hostile to her and tormented her because he thought she "made her master (John Procter) ask for more for a piece of meadow than he (Corey) was willing to offer." She further accused him of "afflicting her" with his spirit while he was in prison and "described his clothing, including his hat, coat, and their colors—with a belt around his waist and a white cap on his head, and in chains." There is reason to believe that while imprisoned, he suffered greatly. Although he had been a rough character earlier in life and caused a lot of gossip by ignoring public opinion, he always showed signs of being generous and sensitive. His reckless behavior of getting so worked up about the witch hunt, especially at the beginning, led him to become angry with his wife for not supporting or believing in them, and he ended up saying things that others used against her. He even gave a deposition to the accusers, which, while it didn’t meet their needs, was shameful for him to have been persuaded to provide. All these things, which he had time to reflect on after his arrest and imprisonment, weighed on his mind. He recognized the horrific nature of the delusion he had joined; it had led to the wrongful execution of his prayerful and good wife, who was now part of a growing list of devout people condemned to death. He knew he was innocent of witchcraft and had come to realize that all others accused were as well. On top of his own unkind behavior towards his wife, two of his four sons-in-law had turned against her. One (Crosby) had testified against her, and another (Parker) had allowed his name to be used as a witness against her. Given all this, Corey made a decision, committed to his path, and stood firm in that decision. He resolved to atone for his own foolishness with a fate that would satisfy the harshest judgment of his actions; to express his loathing for the prosecutions; and to show the depth of his feelings towards those of his children who had betrayed his wife and those who had supported her. He arranged for what has been termed a will, though it was actually a deed, and it was officially recorded as such. Its wording is carefully crafted to ensure clear, full, and certain effect. It begins: "Know ye, &c., that I, Giles Corey, lying under great distress and affliction, which has left me very weak, but of sound mind—knowing not how soon I may leave this life; considering this, and for the fatherly love and affection I have for my beloved son-in-law, William Cleeves, of Beverly, and my son-in-law, John Moulton, of Salem, as well as for other good reasons moving me at this time;" and continues to transfer and confirm all his property—"lands, meadow, housing, cattle, stock, personal and real estate, money, clothing, ... and all other mentioned premises, with their accessories"—to Cleeves and Moulton "forever, freely and quietly, without any challenge, claim, or demand from me, the said Giles Corey, or from any other person for me or on my behalf;" and, using all appropriate language for that purpose, he promises and commits to defend this transfer to Cleeves and Moulton, their heirs, executors, administrators, and assigns forever. The document was properly signed, sealed, and delivered in the presence of qualified witnesses, whose signatures are noted. It was officially acknowledged before "Thomas Wade, Justice of the Peace in Essex," and recorded immediately. This event took place in the jail in Ipswich.

His whole property being thus securely conveyed to his faithful sons-in-law, and placed beyond the reach of his own weakness or change of purpose, Corey resolved on a course that would surely try to the utmost the power of human endurance and firmness. He knew, that, if brought to trial, his death was certain. He did not know but that conviction and execution, through the attainder connected with it, might invalidate all attempts of his to convey his property. But it was certain, that, if he should not be brought to trial and conviction, his deed would stand, and nothing could break it, or defeat its effect. He accordingly made up his mind not to be tried. When called into court to answer to the indictment found by the Grand Jury, he did not plead "Guilty," or "Not guilty," but stood mute. How often he was called forth, we are not informed; but nothing could shake him. No power on earth could unseal his lips.

His entire estate was securely transferred to his loyal sons-in-law, protecting it from his own weaknesses or changes of heart. Corey decided on a path that would truly test the limits of human endurance and resolve. He knew that if he went to trial, his death was inevitable. He was uncertain whether a conviction and execution, along with the resulting forfeiture, could undermine his efforts to transfer his property. However, it was clear that if he avoided trial and conviction, his transfer would hold up, and nothing could overturn it or undermine its impact. Therefore, he resolved not to stand trial. When summoned to court to respond to the indictment from the Grand Jury, he neither pled "Guilty" nor "Not guilty," but remained silent. We don’t know how many times he was called, but nothing could sway him. No force on earth could make him speak.

He knew that he could have no trial that would deserve the name. To have pleaded "Not guilty" would have made him, by his own act, a party to the proceeding, and have been, by implication, an assent to putting his case to the decision of a blind, maddened, and utterly perverted tribunal. He would not, by any act or utterance of his, leave his case with "the country" represented by a jury that embodied the passions of the deluded and infatuated multitude[ii.338] around him. He knew that the gates of justice were closed, and that truth had fled from the scene. He would have no part nor lot in the matter; refused to recognize the court, made no response to its questions, and was dumb in its presence. He stands alone in the resolute defiance of his attitude. He knew the penalty of suffering and agony he would have to pay; but he freely and fearlessly encountered it. All that was needed to carry his point was an unconquerable firmness, and he had it. He rendered it impossible to bring him to trial; and thereby, in spite of the power and wrath of the whole country and its authorities, retained his right to dispose of his property; and bore his testimony against the wickedness and folly of the hour in tones that reached the whole world, and will resound through all the ages.

He understood that he couldn't have a trial that could truly be called that. Pleading "Not guilty" would make him, by his own choice, part of the proceedings and would imply he accepted having his case judged by a blind, enraged, and completely corrupted court. He would not, by any action or word of his, hand his case over to "the country" represented by a jury filled with the emotions of the misguided and obsessed crowd[ii.338] around him. He knew that the gates of justice were shut, and that truth had vanished from the scene. He wanted no involvement in the matter; he refused to recognize the court, answered none of its questions, and remained silent in its presence. He stood alone in his strong defiance. He was aware of the pain and suffering he would have to endure; but he faced it freely and boldly. All that was needed to prove his point was an unyielding determination, and he had that. He made it impossible to bring him to trial; and thus, despite the power and fury of the whole country and its authorities, he retained his right to manage his property and testified against the wrongs and absurdities of the time in tones that reached the entire world and will echo through the ages.

When Corey took this ground, the Court found itself in a position of no little difficulty, and was probably at a loss what to do. No information has come to us of the details of the proceedings. If the usages in England on such occasions were adopted, the prisoner was three times brought before the Court, and called to plead; the consequences of persisting in standing mute being solemnly announced to him at each time. If he remained obdurate, the sentence of peine forte et dure was passed upon him; and, remanded to prison, he was put into a low and dark apartment. He would there be laid on his back on the bare floor, naked for the most part. A weight of iron would be placed upon him, not quite enough to crush him. He[ii.339] would have no sustenance, save only, on the first day, three morsels of the worst bread; and, on the second day, three draughts of standing water that should be nearest to the prison door: and, in this situation, such would be alternately his daily diet till he died, or till he answered. The object of this terrible punishment was to induce the prisoner to plead to the indictment; upon doing which, he would be brought to trial in the ordinary way. The motive that led prisoners to stand mute in England is stated to have been, most generally, to save their property from confiscation. The practice of putting weights upon them, and gradually increasing them, was to force them, by the slowly increasing torture, to yield.

When Corey took the stand, the Court found itself in quite a predicament and was likely unsure of what to do. We haven’t received any details about the proceedings. If the customs in England at such times were followed, the defendant was brought before the Court three times and asked to respond; the consequences of refusing to plead were solemnly explained to him each time. If he continued to remain silent, he was subjected to the sentence of peine forte et dure; then sent back to prison, he was confined in a low, dark room. There, he would lie on the bare floor, mostly naked. An iron weight would be placed on him, just enough to cause discomfort but not to crush him. He[ii.339] would receive no food except, on the first day, three pieces of very poor bread, and on the second day, three sips of stagnant water that was closest to the prison door. This would be his daily diet until he either died or decided to speak. The aim of this brutal punishment was to compel the prisoner to plead to the charges; once he did, he would face trial in the usual manner. The reason prisoners in England chose to remain silent was generally to protect their property from being seized. The practice of adding weights and gradually increasing them was meant to force the defendant to give in through the slow escalation of torture.

How far the English practice was imitated in the case of Corey will remain for ever among the dread secrets of his prison-house. The tradition is, that the last act in the tragedy was in an open field near the jail, somewhere between Howard-street Burial Ground and Brown Street. It is said that Corey urged the executioners to increase the weight which was crushing him, that he told them it was of no use to expect him to yield, that there could be but one way of ending the matter, and that they might as well pile on the rocks. Calef says, that, as his body yielded to the pressure, his tongue protruded from his mouth, and an official forced it back with his cane. Some persons now living remember a popular superstition, lingering in the minds of some of the more ignorant class, that Corey's ghost haunted the grounds where this barbar[ii.340]ous deed was done; and that boys, as they sported in the vicinity, were in the habit of singing a ditty beginning thus:—

How much the English practice was copied in Corey’s case will always remain one of the dark secrets of his prison. The story goes that the final act of this tragedy took place in an open field near the jail, somewhere between Howard Street Burial Ground and Brown Street. It’s said that Corey urged the executioners to add more weight to the crushing device, telling them it was pointless to think he would give in, that there was only one way to end the matter, and they might as well pile on the rocks. Calef states that as his body was giving in to the pressure, his tongue stuck out of his mouth, and an official pushed it back in with his cane. Some people still remember a popular superstition among some of the less educated folks that Corey’s ghost haunted the grounds where this brutal act took place; and that boys, while playing nearby, would often sing a song that began like this:—

"More weight! More weight!" Giles Corey cried.

For a person of more than eighty-one years of age, this must be allowed to have been a marvellous exhibition of prowess; illustrating, as strongly as any thing in human history, the power of a resolute will over the utmost pain and agony of body, and demonstrating that Giles Corey was a man of heroic nerve, and of a spirit that could not be subdued.

For someone over eighty-one years old, this must have been an amazing display of strength; showing, more than anything else in human history, the power of a determined will over extreme pain and suffering, and proving that Giles Corey was a man of heroic courage and an unconquerable spirit.

It produced a deep effect, as it was feared that it would. The bearing of all the sufferers at all the stages of the proceedings, and at their execution, had told in their favor; but the course of Giles Corey profoundly affected the public mind. This must have been noticed by the managers of the prosecutions; and they felt that some extraordinary expedient was necessary to renew, and render more intense than ever, the general infatuation. From the very beginning, there had been great skill and adroitness in arranging the order of incidents, and supplying the requisite excitements at the right moments and the right points. Some persons—it can only be conjectured who—had, all along, been behind the scenes, giving direction and materials to the open actors. This unseen power was in the village; and the movements it devised generally proceeded from Thomas Putnam's house, or the parsonage. It was on hand to meet the contingency[ii.341] created by Corey's having actually carried out to the last his resolution to meet a form of death that would, if any thing could, cause a re-action in the public mind; and the following stratagem was contrived to turn the manner of his death into the means of more than ever blinding and infatuating the people. It was the last and one of the most artful strokes of policy by the prosecutors. On the day after the death of Corey, and two days before the execution of his wife, Mary Easty, and the six others, Judge Sewall, then in Salem, received a letter from Thomas Putnam to this effect:—

It had a significant impact, just as people feared it would. The way all the victims behaved throughout the trials and during their executions worked in their favor; however, the actions of Giles Corey deeply influenced public opinion. The prosecution team must have noticed this and realized they needed an extraordinary tactic to rekindle and intensify the public's obsession. From the very start, there had been great skill in arranging the order of events and delivering the necessary excitement at the right moments. Some individuals—it's only a guess as to who—had been working behind the scenes, directing and influencing the public actions. This hidden force was within the village, and their strategies seemed to originate from Thomas Putnam's house or the parsonage. They were ready to address the situation created by Corey’s determination to face a form of death that, if anything could, would provoke a shift in public perception. So, they devised a plan to make his death serve as a way to further blind and mislead the people. This was the final and one of the most cunning moves made by the prosecutors. The day after Corey’s death and two days before the execution of his wife, Mary Easty, and six others, Judge Sewall, who was then in Salem, received a letter from Thomas Putnam saying this:—

"Last night, my daughter Ann was grievously tormented by witches, threatening that she should be pressed to death before Giles Corey; but, through the goodness of a gracious God, she had at last a little respite. Whereupon there appeared unto her (she said) a man in a winding-sheet, who told her that Giles Corey had murdered him by pressing him to death with his feet; but that the Devil there appeared unto him, and covenanted with him, and promised him that he should not be hanged. The apparition said God hardened his heart, that he should not hearken to the advice of the Court, and so die an easy death; because, as it said, it must be done to him as he has done to me. The apparition also said that Giles Corey was carried to the Court for this, and that the jury had found the murder; and that her father knew the man, and the thing was done before she was born."

"Last night, my daughter Ann was seriously tormented by witches, threatening that she would be pressed to death like Giles Corey; but, thanks to the grace of a good God, she finally got a little break. Then, she said, a man in a winding-sheet appeared to her and told her that Giles Corey had murdered him by pressing him to death with his feet; but that the Devil had come to him, made a deal with him, and promised that he wouldn’t be hanged. The apparition said God hardened his heart so that he wouldn’t listen to the Court's advice and die a peaceful death; because, as it said, he must be treated as he treated me. The apparition also mentioned that Giles Corey was taken to court for this, that the jury had found him guilty of murder; and that her father knew the man, and this happened before she was born."

Cotton Mather represented this vision, made to Ann Putnam, as proof positive of a divine communication to her, because, as he says, she could not have received[ii.342] her information from a human source, as everybody had forgotten the affair long ago; and that she never could have heard of it, happening, as it did, before she was born. Bringing up this old matter to meet the effect produced by Corey's death was indeed a skilful move; and it answered its purpose probably to a considerable extent. The man whom Corey was thus charged with having murdered seventeen years before died in a manner causing some gossip at the time; and a coroner's jury found that he had been "bruised to death, having clodders of blood about the heart." Bringing the affair back to the public mind, with the story of Ann Putnam's vision, was well calculated to meet and check any sympathy that might threaten to arise in favor of Corey. But the trick, however ingenious, will not stand the test of scrutiny. Mather's statement that everybody had forgotten the transaction, and that Ann could only have known of it supernaturally, is wholly untenable; for it was precisely one of those things that are never forgotten in a country village: it had always been kept alive as a part of the gossip of the neighborhood in connection with Corey; and her own father, as is unwittingly acknowledged, knew the man, and all about it. Of course, the girl had heard of it from him and others. The industry that had ransacked the traditions and collected the scandal of the whole country, far and near, for stories that were brought in evidence against all the prisoners, had not failed to pick up this choice bit against Corey. The only reason why it had not[ii.343] before been brought out was because he had not been on trial. The man who died with "clodders of blood about his heart," seventeen years before, was an unfortunate and worthless person, who had incurred punishment for his misconduct while a servant on Corey's farm, and afterwards at the hands of his own family: and he does not appear to have mended his morals upon passing into the spiritual world; for the statement of his ghost to Ann Putnam, that the jury had found Corey guilty of murder, and that the Court was hindered by some enchantment from proceeding against him, is disproved by the record which is—as has been mentioned in the First Part, vol. i. p. 185—that the man was carried back to his house by Corey's wife, and died there some time after; and the Court did no more than fine Corey for the punishment he had inflicted upon him while in his service, and which the evidence showed was repeated by his parents after his return to his own family.

Cotton Mather viewed Ann Putnam's vision as clear proof of divine communication, claiming that she couldn’t have gotten her information from anyone else since everyone had long forgotten the incident. Furthermore, it occurred before she was born. Reviving this old case to respond to the impact of Corey's death was indeed a clever strategy, and it likely worked to some extent. The man that Corey was accused of murdering seventeen years earlier died under circumstances that caused some chatter at the time; a coroner’s jury concluded that he had been "bruised to death, having clots of blood around the heart." Bringing this case back into the public eye along with Ann Putnam's vision was a smart way to counteract any sympathy that might arise for Corey. But this clever tactic doesn’t hold up under scrutiny. Mather's claim that everyone had forgotten the incident and that Ann could only know of it supernaturally is completely unfounded; it was exactly the kind of thing that never gets forgotten in a small town. It had always been part of the neighborhood gossip connected to Corey, and her own father, as he inadvertently admitted, was familiar with the man and the whole situation. Obviously, the girl had heard about it from him and others. The efforts to dig into local traditions and collect gossip from across the region for stories used against all the prisoners certainly hadn’t missed this valuable tidbit against Corey. The only reason it hadn’t been brought up before was that he hadn’t been on trial. The man who died with "clots of blood around his heart" seventeen years earlier was a unfortunate and worthless individual who had faced consequences for his bad behavior while working on Corey’s farm, and later from his own family. He doesn’t seem to have improved his morals after passing into the afterlife; the ghost’s claim to Ann Putnam that the jury had found Corey guilty of murder, and that the court was somehow enchanted from proceeding against him, is disproved by the record, which, as mentioned in the First Part, vol. i. p. 185—shows that the man was taken back home by Corey's wife and died there some time afterward. The court merely fined Corey for the punishment he inflicted while the man was in his service, which the evidence showed was similarly continued by his parents after he returned to his own family.

Thomas Putnam's letter and Ann's vision were the last things of the kind that occurred. The delusion was approaching its close, and the people were beginning to be restored to their senses.

Thomas Putnam's letter and Ann's vision were the last of their kind. The madness was coming to an end, and people were starting to come to their senses.

When it became known that Corey's resolution was likely to hold out, and that no torments or cruelties of any kind could subdue his firm and invincible spirit, Mr. Noyes hurried a special meeting of his church on a week-day, and had the satisfaction of dealing the same awful doom upon him as upon Rebecca Nurse. The entry in the record of the First Church is as follows:[ii.344]

When it became clear that Corey's determination was likely to last, and that no torments or cruelties could break his strong and unbeatable spirit, Mr. Noyes quickly called a special meeting of his church on a weekday, feeling the satisfaction of handing him the same terrible fate as Rebecca Nurse. The entry in the records of the First Church is as follows:[ii.344]

"Sept. 18, G. Corey was excommunicated: the cause of it was, that he being accused and indicted for the sin of witchcraft, he refused to plead, and so incurred the sentence and penalty of pain fort dure; being undoubtedly either guilty of the sin of witchcraft, or of throwing himself upon sudden and certain death, if he were otherwise innocent."

"Sept. 18, G. Corey was excommunicated: the reason for this was that he was accused and charged with witchcraft, and he refused to enter a plea, which led to the sentence and penalty of pain fort dure; he was undoubtedly either guilty of witchcraft or choosing to face certain death if he was actually innocent."

This attempt to introduce a form of argument into a church act of excommunication is a slight but significant symptom of its having become felt that the breath of reason had begun to raise a ripple upon the surface of the public mind. It increased slowly, but steadily to a gale that beat with severity upon Mr. Noyes and all his fellow-persecutors to their dying day.

This effort to bring some level of debate into a church act of excommunication is a small yet meaningful sign that people were starting to feel the influence of reason stirring in public opinion. It grew slowly but steadily into a storm that harshly affected Mr. Noyes and all his fellow persecutors until the end of their days.

After the executions, on the 22d of September, the Court adjourned to meet some weeks subsequently; and it was, no doubt, their expectation to continue from month to month to hold sessions, and supply, each time, new cart-loads of victims to the hangman. But a sudden collapse took place in the machinery, and they met no more. The executive authority intervened, and their functions ceased. The curtain fell unexpectedly, and the tragedy ended. It is not known precisely what caused this sudden change. It is probable, that a revolution had been going on some time in the public mind, which was kept for a while from notice, but at last became too apparent and too serious to be disregarded. It has generally been attributed to the fact, that the girls became over-confident, and struck too high. They had ventured, as we have seen, to cry[ii.345] out against the Rev. Samuel Willard, but were rebuked and silenced by the Court. Whoever began to waver in his confidence of the correctness of the proceedings was in danger of being attacked by them; and, as a general thing, when a person was "cried out upon," it may be taken as proof that he had spoken against them. Increase Mather, the president of Harvard College, called by Eliot "the father of the New-England clergy," was understood not to go so far as his son Cotton in sustaining the proceedings; and a member of his family was accused. The wife of Sir William Phips sympathized with those who suffered prosecution, and is said to have written an order for the release of a prisoner from jail. She was cried out upon. It may have been noticed, that, though Jonathan Corwin sat with Hathorne as an examining magistrate and assistant, and signed the commitments of the prisoners, he never took an active part, but was a silent and passive agent in the scene. He was subsequently raised to the bench; but there is reason to believe that his mind was not clear as to the correctness of the proceedings. This probably became known to the accusing girls; for they cried out repeatedly against his wife's mother, a respectable and venerable lady in Boston. The accusers, in aiming at such characters, overestimated their power; and the tide began to turn against them. But what finally broke the spell by which they had held the minds of the whole colony in bondage was their accusation, in October, of Mrs. Hale, the wife of the[ii.346] minister of the First Church in Beverly. Her genuine and distinguished virtues had won for her a reputation, and secured in the hearts of the people a confidence, which superstition itself could not sully nor shake. Mr. Hale had been active in all the previous proceedings; but he knew the innocence and piety of his wife, and he stood forth between her and the storm he had helped to raise: although he had driven it on while others were its victims, he turned and resisted it when it burst in upon his own dwelling. The whole community became convinced that the accusers in crying out upon Mrs. Hale, had perjured themselves, and from that moment their power was destroyed; the awful delusion was dispelled, and a close put to one of the most tremendous tragedies in the history of real life. The wildest storm, perhaps, that ever raged in the moral world, became a calm; the tide that had threatened to overwhelm every thing in its fury, sunk back to its peaceful bed. There are few, if any, other instances in history, of a revolution of opinion and feeling so sudden, so rapid, and so complete. The images and visions that had possessed the bewildered imaginations of the people flitted away, and left them standing in the sunshine of reason and their senses; and they could have exclaimed, as they witnessed them passing off, in the language of the great master of the drama and of human nature, but that their rigid Puritan principles would not, it is presumed, have permitted them, even in that moment of rescue and deliverance, to quote Shakspeare,[ii.347]

After the executions on September 22, the Court postponed its next meeting for a few weeks. They likely expected to continue holding sessions each month to keep supplying new victims for the hangman. However, something suddenly went wrong, and they never reconvened. The executive authority stepped in, and their functions stopped. The curtain dropped unexpectedly, and the tragedy came to an end. The exact cause of this sudden change is unknown. It's likely that there had been a revolution brewing in public opinion that went unnoticed for a time but eventually became too obvious and serious to ignore. It's generally believed that the girls became overconfident and aimed too high. They had dared, as we saw, to publicly call out the Rev. Samuel Willard but were chastised and silenced by the Court. Anyone who started to doubt the legitimacy of the proceedings was at risk of being attacked by them; generally speaking, if someone was "cried out upon," it indicated they had spoken against the girls. Increase Mather, the president of Harvard College, referred to by Eliot as "the father of the New-England clergy," was not as supportive of the proceedings as his son Cotton, and a member of his family was accused. The wife of Sir William Phips showed sympathy for those being prosecuted and is said to have written an order for a prisoner’s release from jail. She was also "cried out upon." It may have been noticed that, although Jonathan Corwin sat alongside Hathorne as an examining magistrate and assistant and signed the commitments of the prisoners, he played a passive role in the proceedings. He was later promoted to the bench, but there is reason to believe he had doubts about the correctness of the proceedings. This might have become known to the accusing girls, as they repeatedly targeted his mother-in-law, a respected and elderly woman in Boston. The accusers, in targeting such individuals, underestimated their power, and public sentiment began to shift against them. However, what ultimately ended the influence they had held over the entire colony was their accusation, in October, of Mrs. Hale, the wife of the minister of the First Church in Beverly. Her genuine and admirable qualities had earned her a good reputation and the people's trust, which superstition couldn't tarnish or shake. Mr. Hale had been actively involved in the previous proceedings, but he knew his wife was innocent and pious, and he stepped forward to protect her from the storm he had helped create; even though he had fueled it while others suffered, he turned and fought against it once it invaded his home. The entire community became convinced that the accusers had perjured themselves by crying out against Mrs. Hale, and from that moment, their power was shattered; the dreadful delusion was lifted, and one of the most severe tragedies in real-life history came to a close. The most intense turmoil ever seen in the moral world became calm; the tide that had threatened to engulf everything receded back to peaceful waters. There are very few, if any, other instances in history of such a rapid and complete change in opinion and feeling. The images and visions that had captivated the bewildered public faded away, leaving them in the light of reason and their senses; they could have exclaimed, as they watched those visions disappear, in the words of the great master of drama and human nature, if only their strict Puritan principles hadn't prevented them, even in that moment of salvation, from quoting Shakespeare.

"The earth has bubbles, just like water does,
And these are some of them. Where have they disappeared to?
Into the air; and what seemed physical, vanished. As breath in the wind.

Sir William Phips well knew that the public sentiment demanded a stop to be put to the prosecutions. Besides that many of the people had lost all faith in the grounds on which they had been conducted, an influence from the higher orders of society began to make itself felt. Hutchinson says, "Although many such had suffered, yet there remained in prison a number of women of as reputable families as any in the towns where they lived, and several persons, of still superior rank, were hinted at by the pretended bewitched, or by the confessing witches. Some had been publicly named. Dudley Bradstreet, a justice of peace, who had been appointed one of President Dudley's council, and who was son to the worthy old governor, then living, found it necessary to abscond. Having been remiss in prosecuting, he had been charged by some of the afflicted as a confederate. His brother, John Bradstreet, was forced to fly also."

Sir William Phips knew that the public wanted an end to the prosecutions. Many people had lost all trust in the reasons behind them, and there was growing pressure from the higher classes of society. Hutchinson notes, "Even though many had suffered, there were still women from respected families in jail in the towns where they lived, and some people of even higher status were mentioned by those who claimed to be bewitched or by the confessing witches. Some names had been publicly stated. Dudley Bradstreet, a justice of the peace and a member of President Dudley's council, who was the son of the respected old governor still alive, found he had to go into hiding. After being slow to prosecute, he was accused by some of the afflicted as being part of the conspiracy. His brother, John Bradstreet, also had to run away."

The termination of the proceedings was probably effectually secured by the spirited course of certain parties in Andover, who, at the first moment of its appearing that the public sentiment was changing, commenced actions for slander against the accusers.

The end of the proceedings was likely ensured by the bold actions of some individuals in Andover, who, as soon as they noticed a shift in public opinion, started lawsuits for slander against the accusers.

The result of the whole matter was, that, while some of the judges, magistrates, and ministers persisted in their fanatical zeal, the great body of the people, high and low, were rescued from the delusion.[ii.348]

The outcome of the entire situation was that, while some judges, officials, and ministers continued with their extreme enthusiasm, the vast majority of the people, both high and low, were freed from the deception.[ii.348]

While, in the course of our story, we have witnessed some shocking instances of the violation of the most sacred affections and obligations of life, in husbands and wives, parents and children, testifying against each other, and exerting themselves for mutual destruction, we must not overlook the many instances in which filial, parental, and fraternal fidelity and love have shone conspicuously. It was dangerous to befriend an accused person. Procter stood by his wife to protect her, and it cost him his life. Children protested against the treatment of their parents, and they were all thrown into prison. Daniel Andrew, a citizen of high standing, who had been deputy to the General Court, asserted, in the boldest language, his belief of Rebecca Nurse's innocence; and he had to fly the country to save his life. Many devoted sons and daughters clung to their parents, visited them in prison in defiance of a bloodthirsty mob; kept by their side on the way to execution; expressed their love, sympathy, and reverence to the last; and, by brave and perilous enterprise, got possession of their remains, and bore them back under the cover of midnight to their own thresholds, and to graves kept consecrated by their prayers and tears. One noble young man is said to have effected his mother's escape from the jail, and secreted her in the woods until after the delusion had passed away, provided food and clothing for her, erected a wigwam for her shelter, and surrounded her with every comfort her situation would admit of. The poor creature must,[ii.349] however, have endured a great amount of suffering; for one of her larger limbs was fractured in the all but desperate attempt to rescue her from the prison-walls.

While recounting our story, we've seen some shocking examples of people breaking the most sacred bonds and duties in life, where spouses, parents, and children turned against each other and worked for each other’s ruin. However, we shouldn't ignore the many times when loyalty and love among family members stood out. It was risky to support someone accused. Procter defended his wife to keep her safe, and it cost him his life. Children protested how their parents were treated, and they all ended up in prison. Daniel Andrew, a respected citizen and former deputy to the General Court, boldly declared his belief in Rebecca Nurse's innocence, which forced him to flee the country to save himself. Many devoted sons and daughters stayed by their parents, visiting them in prison despite a bloodthirsty mob, accompanying them to execution, and expressing their love, sympathy, and respect until the end. Through brave and risky efforts, they took possession of their remains and quietly returned them home at night, burying them in graves made sacred by their prayers and tears. One noble young man is said to have helped his mother escape from jail and hid her in the woods until the madness was over, providing her with food and clothing, building her a shelter, and surrounding her with as much comfort as her situation allowed. Unfortunately, the poor woman must have suffered a lot; one of her larger limbs was broken during the nearly desperate attempt to save her from prison.

The Special Court being no longer suffered to meet, a permanent and regular tribunal, called the Superior Court of Judicature, was established, consisting of the Deputy-governor, William Stoughton, Chief-justice; and Thomas Danforth, John Richards, Wait Winthrop, and Samuel Sewall, associate justices. They held a Court at Salem, in January, 1693. Hutchinson says that, on this occasion, the Grand Jury found about fifty indictments. The following persons were brought to trial: Rebecca Jacobs, Margaret Jacobs, Sarah Buckley, Job Tookey, Hannah Tyler, Candy, Mary Marston, Elizabeth Johnson, Abigail Barker, Mary Tyler, Sarah Hawkes, Mary Wardwell, Mary Bridges, Hannah Post, Sarah Bridges, Mary Osgood, Mary Lacy, Jr., Sarah Wardwell, Elizabeth Johnson, Jr., and Mary Post. The three last were condemned, but not executed: all the rest were acquitted. Considering that the "spectral evidence" was wholly thrown out at these trials, the facts that the grand jury, under the advice of the Court, brought in so many indictments, and that three were actually convicted, are as discreditable to the regular Court as the convictions at the Special Court are to that body. It has been said that the Special Court had not an adequate representation of lawyers in its composition; and the results of its proceedings have been ascribed to that circumstance. It has been[ii.350] held up disparagingly in comparison with the regular Court that succeeded it. But, in fact, the regular Court consisted of persons all of whom sat in the Special Court, with the exception of Danforth. But his proceedings in originating the arrests for witchcraft in the fall of 1691, and his action when presiding at the preliminary examination of John Procter, Elizabeth Procter, and Sarah Cloyse, at Salem, April 11, 1692, show that, so far as the permission of gross irregularities and the admission of absurd kinds of testimony are concerned, the regular Court gained nothing by his sitting with it, unless his views had been thoroughly changed in the mean time. The truth is, that the judges, magistrates, and legislature were as much to blame, in this whole business, as the ministers, and much more slow to come to their senses, and make amends for their wrong-doing.

The Special Court was no longer allowed to meet, so a permanent and regular court called the Superior Court of Judicature was established. It included Deputy-governor William Stoughton as Chief Justice, along with Thomas Danforth, John Richards, Wait Winthrop, and Samuel Sewall as associate justices. They held a court in Salem in January 1693. Hutchinson notes that during this session, the Grand Jury issued about fifty indictments. The following people were put on trial: Rebecca Jacobs, Margaret Jacobs, Sarah Buckley, Job Tookey, Hannah Tyler, Candy, Mary Marston, Elizabeth Johnson, Abigail Barker, Mary Tyler, Sarah Hawkes, Mary Wardwell, Mary Bridges, Hannah Post, Sarah Bridges, Mary Osgood, Mary Lacy, Jr., Sarah Wardwell, Elizabeth Johnson, Jr., and Mary Post. The last three were convicted but not executed; all the others were acquitted. Given that "spectral evidence" was completely dismissed in these trials, the fact that the grand jury, with guidance from the Court, issued so many indictments and that three were convicted is as discreditable to the regular Court as the convictions from the Special Court are to it. It has been argued that the Special Court lacked adequate legal representation, and this is blamed for its results. It has been[ii.350]

All the facts known to us, and all the statements that have come down to us, require us to believe, that none who confessed, and stood to their confession, were brought to trial. All who were condemned either maintained their innocence from the first, or, if persuaded or overcome into a confession, voluntarily took it back and disowned it before trial. If this be so, then the name of every person condemned ought to be held in lasting honor, as preferring to die rather than lie, or stand to a lie. It required great strength of mind to take back a confession; relinquish life and liberty; go down into a dungeon, loaded with irons; and from thence to ascend the gallows. It relieves[ii.351] the mind to think, that Abigail Hobbs, wicked and shocking as her conduct had been towards Mr. Burroughs and others, came to herself, and offered her life in atonement for her sin.

All the information we have and all the accounts we've received lead us to believe that none of those who confessed and stood by their confession were actually put on trial. Everyone who was condemned either claimed their innocence from the start or, if they were persuaded or forced into a confession, took it back voluntarily before the trial. If this is true, then every person who was condemned should be remembered with great respect for choosing to die rather than lie or stick to a lie. It took immense strength to revoke a confession, give up life and freedom, go down into a dungeon, weighed down by chains, and then face the gallows. It’s comforting to think that Abigail Hobbs, as terrible as her actions were toward Mr. Burroughs and others, ultimately came to her senses and offered her life as a way to atone for her sins.

The Court continued the trials at successive sessions during the spring, all resulting in acquittals, until in May, 1693, Sir William Phips, by proclamation, discharged all. Hutchinson says, "Such a jail-delivery has never been known in New England." The number then released is stated to have been one hundred and fifty. How many had been apprehended, during the whole affair, we have no means of knowing. Twenty, counting Giles Corey, had been executed. Two at least, Ann Foster and Sarah Osburn, had died in jail: it is not improbable that others perished under the bodily and mental sufferings there. We find frequent expressions indicating that many died in prison. A considerable number of children, and some adults whose friends were able to give the heavy bonds required and had influence enough to secure the favor, had some time before been removed to private custody. Quite a considerable number had succeeded in breaking jail and eluding recapture. Upon the whole, there must have been several hundreds committed. Even after acquittal by a jury, and the Governor's proclamation, none were set at liberty until they had paid all charges; including board for the whole time of their imprisonment, jailer's fees, and fees of Court of all kinds. The families of many had become utterly impoverished.[ii.352]

The Court continued the trials in sessions throughout the spring, all ending in acquittals, until May 1693, when Sir William Phips, by proclamation, released everyone. Hutchinson states, "Such a release from jail has never been seen in New England." The number of people released is said to have been one hundred and fifty. We don’t know how many were apprehended in total during the whole ordeal. Twenty, including Giles Corey, were executed. At least two, Ann Foster and Sarah Osburn, died in jail; it’s likely that others also suffered and died there. There are many accounts indicating that many died in prison. A significant number of children, and some adults whose families could pay the heavy bonds required and had enough influence to gain favor, had been moved to private custody earlier. Quite a few managed to escape jail and avoid being recaptured. Overall, several hundred must have been imprisoned. Even after being acquitted by a jury and the Governor's proclamation, none were released until they had paid all the fees, including food for the entire duration of their confinement, jailer's fees, and various court fees. Many families had become completely destitute.[ii.352]

The sufferings of the prisoners and of their relatives and connections are perhaps best illustrated by presenting the substance of a few of the petitions for their release, found among the files. The friends of the parties, in these cases, were not in a condition to give the bonds, and they probably remained in jail until the general discharge; and how long after, before the means could be raised to pay all dues, we cannot know.[D]

The pain of the prisoners and their families is maybe best shown by sharing some of the petitions for their release found in the files. The friends of the individuals in these cases weren't able to provide the bail, and they likely stayed in jail until the general release; and we can't know how long it took after that for the funds to be gathered to pay all the fees.[D]

Margaret Jacobs had to remain in jail after the Governor's proclamation had directed the release of all prisoners, because she could not pay the fees and charges. Her grandfather had been executed, and all his furniture, stock, and moveable property seized by the marshal or sheriff. Her father escaped the warrant by a sudden flight from his home under the cover of midnight, and was in exile "beyond the seas;" her mother and herself taken at the time by the officers serving the warrants against them; the younger children of the family, left without protection, had dispersed, and been thrown upon the charity of neighbors; the house had been stripped of its contents, left open, and deserted. She had not a shilling in the world, and knew not where to look for aid. She[ii.354] was taken back to prison, and remained there for some time, until a person named Gammon, apparently a stranger, happened to hear of her case, and, touched with compassion, raised the money required, and released her. It was long before the affairs of the Jacobs' family were so far retrieved as to enable them to refund the money to the noble-hearted fisherman. How many others lingered in prison, or how long, we have no means of ascertaining.

Margaret Jacobs had to stay in jail even after the Governor's announcement to release all prisoners because she couldn’t pay the fees and charges. Her grandfather had been executed, and all his furniture, livestock, and belongings were taken by the marshal or sheriff. Her father escaped the warrant by suddenly fleeing from home under the cover of night and was in exile "beyond the seas." She and her mother were captured by the officers serving the warrants against them; the younger children in the family, left unprotected, scattered and relied on the kindness of neighbors. The house had been stripped of its contents, left wide open, and abandoned. She didn’t have a penny to her name and didn’t know where to turn for help. She[ii.354] was taken back to prison and stayed there for some time until a man named Gammon, who seemed to be a stranger, heard about her situation and, feeling sympathetic, raised the money needed to free her. It took a long time for the Jacobs family to get back on their feet enough to repay the money to the generous fisherman. We have no way of knowing how many others remained in prison or for how long.

In reviewing the proceedings at the examinations and trials, it is impossible to avoid being struck with the infatuation of the magistrates and judges. They acted throughout in the character and spirit of prosecuting officers, put leading and ensnaring questions to the prisoners, adopted a browbeating deportment towards them, and pursued them with undisguised hostility. They assumed their guilt from the first,[ii.355] and endeavored to force them to confess; treating them as obstinate culprits because they would not. Every kind of irregularity was permitted. The marshal was encouraged in perpetual interference to prejudice the persons on trial, watching and reporting aloud to the Court every movement of their hands or heads or feet. Other persons were allowed to speak out, from the body of the crowd, whatever they chose to say adverse to the prisoner. Accusers were suffered to make private communications to the magistrates and judges before or during the hearings. The presiding officers showed off their smartness in attempts to make the persons on trial before them appear at a disadvantage. In some instances, as in the case of Sarah Good, the magistrate endeavored to deceive the accused by representing falsely the testimony given by another. The people in and around the court-room were allowed to act the part of a noisy mob, by clamors and threatening outcries; and juries were overawed to bring in verdicts of conviction, and rebuked from the bench if they exercised their rightful prerogative without regard to the public passions. The chief-justice, in particular, appears to have been actuated by violent prejudice against the prisoners, and to have conducted the trials, all along, with a spirit that bears the aspect of animosity.

In reviewing the proceedings at the examinations and trials, it's impossible not to notice the obsession of the magistrates and judges. They acted throughout as if they were the prosecution, asking leading and trick questions to the defendants, adopting an intimidating demeanor, and treating them with open hostility. They assumed their guilt from the very beginning,[ii.355] trying to force them to confess and treating them like stubborn criminals for refusing. All sorts of irregularities were allowed. The marshal was encouraged to interfere constantly, influencing the jury against the defendants, and loudly reporting every movement of their hands, heads, or feet to the Court. Others in the crowd were free to shout whatever negative comments they wanted about the defendants. Accusers were allowed to have private discussions with the magistrates and judges before or during the hearings. The presiding officers tried to show off their cleverness by making the defendants look bad. In some cases, like that of Sarah Good, the magistrate attempted to mislead the accused by falsely stating the testimony of another. The people in and around the courtroom acted like a noisy mob, with shouting and threatening cries, and the juries were pressured to deliver guilty verdicts, facing rebukes from the bench if they tried to use their rightful authority, ignoring public sentiment. The chief justice, in particular, seemed driven by strong bias against the defendants and conducted the trials with a spirit that felt hostile.

There is one point of view in which he must be held responsible for the blood that was shed, and the infamy that, in consequence, attaches to the proceedings. It may well be contended, that not a conviction would[ii.356] have taken place, but for a notion of his which he arbitrarily enforced as a rule of law. It was a part of the theory relating to witchcraft, that the Devil made use of the spectres, or apparitions, of some persons to afflict others. From this conceded postulate, a division of opinion arose. Some maintained that the Devil could employ only the spectres of persons in league with him; others affirmed, that he could send upon his evil errands the spectres of innocent persons, without their consent or knowledge. The chief-justice held the former opinion, against the judgment of many others, arbitrarily established it as a rule of Court, and peremptorily instructed juries to regard it as binding upon them in making their verdicts. The consequence was that a verdict of "Guilty" became inevitable. But few at that time doubted the veracity of the "afflicted persons," which was thought to be demonstrated to the very senses by their fits and sufferings, in the presence of the Court, jury, and all beholders. When they swore that they saw the shapes of Bridget Bishop, or Rebecca Nurse, or George Burroughs, choking or otherwise torturing a person, the fact was regarded as beyond question.

There is one way to look at this where he must be held accountable for the blood that was shed and the shame that came from the actions taken. It's easy to argue that not a single conviction would have happened if it weren't for a belief of his that he enforced as a legal rule. Part of the theory about witchcraft was that the Devil used the spirits or ghosts of some people to harm others. From this accepted idea, a disagreement emerged. Some argued that the Devil could only use the spirits of people who were in league with him; others claimed that he could send the spirits of innocent people on his evil missions without their knowledge or consent. The chief justice believed the former, disregarded the opinions of many others, established it as a courtroom rule, and insisted that juries treat it as mandatory when delivering their verdicts. As a result, a "Guilty" verdict became unavoidable. At that time, very few doubted the honesty of the "afflicted individuals," which was thought to be proven by their fits and sufferings in front of the court, jury, and everyone watching. When they swore they saw the figures of Bridget Bishop, or Rebecca Nurse, or George Burroughs, choking or tormenting someone, this was considered indisputable.

The prisoners took the ground, that the statements made by the witnesses, even if admitted, were not proof against them; for the Devil might employ the spectres of innocent persons, or of whomsoever he chose, without the knowledge of the persons whose shapes were thus used by him. When Mrs. Ann Putnam swore that she had seen the spectre of Rebecca Nurse[ii.357] afflicting various persons; and that the said spectre acknowledged to her, that "she had killed Benjamin Houlton, and John Fuller, and Rebecca Shepard,"—the answer of the prisoner was, "I cannot help it: the Devil may appear in my shape." When the examining magistrate put the question to Susanna Martin, "How comes your appearance to hurt these?" Martin replied, "I cannot tell. He that appeared in Samuel's shape, a glorified saint, can appear in any one's shape." The Rev. John Wise, in his noble appeal in favor of John Procter, argued to the same point. But the chief-justice was inexorably deaf to all reason; compelled the jury to receive, as absolute law, that the Devil could not use the shape of an innocent person; and, as the "afflicted" swore that they saw the shapes of the prisoners actually engaged in the diabolical work, there was no room left for question, and they must return a verdict of "Guilty."

The prisoners argued that the statements made by the witnesses, even if accepted, were not evidence against them; because the Devil could use the appearances of innocent people, or anyone he wanted, without those individuals knowing it. When Mrs. Ann Putnam swore that she had seen the ghost of Rebecca Nurse[ii.357] tormenting various people, and that this ghost confessed to her that "she had killed Benjamin Houlton, and John Fuller, and Rebecca Shepard," the prisoner's response was, "I can't help it: the Devil might show up in my form." When the examining magistrate asked Susanna Martin, "Why does your appearance hurt these people?" Martin replied, "I can't say. He who appeared in Samuel's form, a glorified saint, can appear in anyone's form." The Rev. John Wise, in his strong defense of John Procter, made the same argument. But the chief justice was stubbornly unresponsive to all reasoning; he forced the jury to accept, as absolute truth, that the Devil could not take on the shape of an innocent person; and since the "afflicted" insisted they saw the shapes of the prisoners actually engaging in the evil acts, there was no room for doubt, and they had to return a verdict of "Guilty."

In this way, innocent persons were slaughtered by a dogma in the mind of an obstinate judge. Dogmas have perverted courts and governments in all ages. A fabrication of fancy, an arbitrary verbal proposition, has been exalted above reason, and made to extinguish common sense. The world is full of such dogmas. They mislead the actions of men, and confound the page of history. "The king cannot die" is one of them. It is held as an axiom of political and constitutional truth. So an entire dynasty, crowded with a more glorious life than any other, is struck from the annals of an empire. In the public records of Eng[ii.358]land, the existence of the Commonwealth is ignored; and the traces of its great events are erased from the archives of the government, which, in all its formulas and official papers, proclaims a lie. A hunted fugitive, wandering in disguise through foreign lands, without a foot of ground on the globe that he could call his own, is declared in all public acts, parliamentary and judicial, and even by those assuming to utter the voice of history, to have actually reigned all the time. In our country and in our day, we are perplexed, and our public men bewildered, by a similar dogma. The merest fabric of human contrivance, a particular form of political society, is impiously clothed with an essential attribute of God alone; and ephemeral politicians are announcing, as an eternal law of Providence, that "a State cannot die." The mischiefs that result, in the management of human affairs, from enthroning dogmas over reason, truth, and fact, are, as they ever have been, incalculable.

In this way, innocent people were killed because of a belief held by a stubborn judge. Beliefs have twisted courts and governments throughout history. An invention of imagination, an arbitrary statement, has been placed above reason and has stifled common sense. The world is full of such beliefs. They mislead people's actions and confuse the pages of history. "The king cannot die" is one of them. It's considered an obvious truth in politics and government. As a result, an entire dynasty, which had a more glorious existence than any other, is wiped from the records of an empire. In the public records of Eng[ii.358]land, the existence of the Commonwealth is ignored, and the evidence of its significant events is erased from government archives, which, in all its forms and official documents, promotes a falsehood. A hunted fugitive, disguised and wandering through foreign lands, without any piece of land he could call his own, is declared in all public actions, parliamentary and judicial, even by those claiming to speak for history, to have actually ruled all along. In our country and in our time, we are confused, and our public leaders are bewildered by a similar belief. The most trivial creation of human design, a specific form of political society, is blasphemously given a fundamental attribute of God alone; and temporary politicians are proclaiming, as if it were a lasting law of Providence, that "a State cannot die." The damage that results from placing beliefs above reason, truth, and fact in managing human affairs is, as it always has been, immeasurable.

Chief-justice Stoughton appears to have kept his mind chained to his dogma to the last. It rendered him wholly incapable of opening his eyes to the light of truth. He held on to spectral evidence, and his corollary from it, when everybody else had abandoned both. He would not admit that he, or any one concerned, had been in error. He never could bear to hear any persons express penitence or regret for the part they had taken in the proceedings. When the public delusion had so far subsided that it became difficult to procure the execution of a witch, he was[ii.359] disturbed and incensed to such a degree that he abandoned his seat on the bench. During a session of the Court at Charlestown, in January, 1692-3, "word was brought in, that a reprieve was sent to Salem, and had prevented the execution of seven of those that were there condemned, which so moved the chief judge that he said to this effect: 'We were in a way to have cleared the land of them; who it is that obstructs the cause of justice, I know not: the Lord be merciful to the country!' and so went off the bench, and came no more into that Court."

Chief Justice Stoughton seems to have stuck to his beliefs until the end. This made him completely unable to see the truth. He clung to spectral evidence and his conclusions from it, even when everyone else had moved on. He would not accept that he, or anyone else involved, had made a mistake. He could never handle hearing anyone express remorse or regret for their roles in the proceedings. When public hysteria had faded enough that it became hard to carry out the execution of a witch, he was[ii.359] so disturbed and angry that he left his position on the bench. During a session of the Court at Charlestown in January 1692-3, "word came that a reprieve had been sent to Salem, preventing the execution of seven of those condemned, which so upset the chief judge that he said something like: 'We were about to clear the land of them; I don’t know who is blocking justice, but may the Lord be merciful to the country!' and then he left the bench and never returned to that Court."

I have spoken of the judges as appearing to be infatuated, not on account of the opinions they held on the subject of witchcraft, for these were the opinions of their age; nor from the peculiar doctrine their chief enforced upon them, for that was entertained by many, and, as a mere theory, was perhaps as logically deducible from the prevalent doctrines as any other. Their infatuation consisted in not having eyes to see, or ears to hear, evidences continually occurring of the untruthful arts and tricks of the afflicted children, of their cunning evasions, and, in some instances, palpable falsehoods. Then, further, there was solid and substantial evidence before them that ought to have made them pause and consider, if not doubt and disbelieve. We find the following paper among the files:—

I’ve talked about the judges seeming to be obsessed, not because of the beliefs they had about witchcraft—those were the views of their time—nor because of the specific doctrine their leader pushed on them, since that was accepted by many and could be logically derived from the commonly held beliefs just like any other theory. Their obsession lay in their inability to see or hear the constant signs of the deceitful tricks and manipulations of the so-called afflicted children, their clever dodges, and, in some cases, obvious lies. Moreover, there was solid and compelling evidence in front of them that should have made them stop and think, if not question and disbelieve. We find the following paper among the files:—

The Testimony of John Putnam, Sr., and Rebecca his Wife, saith that our son-in-law John Fuller, and our daughter Rebecca Shepard, did both of them die a most violent death (and died acting very strangely at the time of[ii.360] their death); further saith, that we did judge then that they both died of a malignant fever, and had no suspicion of withcraft of any, neither can we accuse the prisoner at the bar of any such thing."

The Testimony of John Putnam, Sr., and his Wife Rebecca states that our son-in-law John Fuller and our daughter Rebecca Shepard both died a very violent death (and behaved quite oddly at the time of [ii.360] their death); we believed then that they both succumbed to a serious fever, and we had no suspicion of magic at all, nor can we accuse the defendant at the bar of anything like that.

When we recall the testimony of Ann Putnam the mother, and find that the afflicted generally charged the death of the above-named persons upon the shape of Rebecca Nurse, we perceive how absolutely Captain John Putnam and his wife discredit their testimony. The opinion of the father and mother of Fuller and Shepard ought to have had weight with the Court. They were persons of the highest standing, and of recognized intelligence and judgment. They were old church-members, and eminently orthodox in all their sentiments. They were the heads of a great family. He had represented the town in the General Court the year before. No man in this part of the country was more noted for strong good sense than Captain John Putnam. This deposition is honorable to their memory, and clears them from all responsibility for the extent to which the afflicted persons were allowed to sway the judgment of the Court. Taken in connection with the paper signed by so large a portion of the best people of the village, in behalf of Rebecca Nurse, it proves that the blame for the shocking proceedings in the witchcraft prosecutions cannot be laid upon the local population, but rests wholly upon the Court and the public authorities.

When we think about the testimony of Ann Putnam, the mother, and see that the afflicted generally blamed the deaths of the mentioned individuals on the shape of Rebecca Nurse, we realize how completely Captain John Putnam and his wife discredited their testimony. The opinions of Fuller and Shepard's parents should have carried weight with the Court. They were respected members of the community, known for their intelligence and judgment. They were longtime church members and held conservative beliefs. They led a large family. The previous year, he had represented the town in the General Court. No one in this area was more recognized for their common sense than Captain John Putnam. This deposition honors their memory and absolves them of any responsibility for how much influence the afflicted had over the Court's decisions. Coupled with the petition signed by many of the best people in the village supporting Rebecca Nurse, it shows that the blame for the horrific events of the witch trials cannot be placed on the local community but rests solely with the Court and public authorities.

The Special Court that condemned the persons charged with witchcraft in 1692 is justly open to[ii.361] censure for the absence of all discrimination of evidence, and for a prejudgment of the cases submitted to them. In view of the then existing law and the practice in the mother-country under it, they ought to have the benefit of the admission that they did, in other respects than those mentioned, no more and no worse than was to be expected. And Cotton Mather, in the "Magnalia," vindicates them on this ground:—

The Special Court that convicted those accused of witchcraft in 1692 is rightly criticized for lacking any discrimination in evidence and for having prejudged the cases before them. Considering the laws and practices that were in place in England at the time, they should be allowed some understanding, as they acted no better and no worse than could be anticipated. Cotton Mather, in the "Magnalia," defends them on this basis:—

"They consulted the precedents of former times, and precepts laid down by learned writers about witchcraft; as, Keeble on the Common Law, chap. 'Conjuration' (an author approved by the twelve judges of our nation): also, Sir Matthew Hale's Trials of Witches, printed anno 1682; Glanvill's Collection of Sundry Trials in England and Ireland in the years 1658, '61, '63, '64, and '81; Bernard's Guide to Jury-men; Baxter's and R.B., their histories about Witches, and their Discoveries; Cotton Mather's Memorable Providences relating to Witchcraft, printed 1685."

"They looked at past examples and rules set by knowledgeable writers about witchcraft, like Keeble on the Common Law, chapter 'Conjuration' (an author endorsed by the twelve judges of our nation); also, Sir Matthew Hale's Trials of Witches, published in 1682; Glanvill's Collection of Various Trials in England and Ireland in the years 1658, '61, '63, '64, and '81; Bernard's Guide for Jurors; Baxter's and R.B.'s writings on Witches and their Discoveries; and Cotton Mather's Memorable Providences related to Witchcraft, published in 1685."

So far as the medical profession at the time is concerned, it must be admitted that they bear a full share of responsibility for the proceedings. They gave countenance and currency to the idea of witchcraft in the public mind, and were very generally in the habit, when a patient did not do well under their prescriptions, of getting rid of all difficulty by saying that "an evil hand" was upon him. Their opinion to this effect is cited throughout, and appears in a large number of the documents. There were coroners' juries in cases where it was suspected that a person[ii.362] died of witchcraft. It is much to be regretted that none of their verdicts have been preserved. Drawn up by an attending "chirurgeon," they would illustrate the state of professional science at that day, by informing us of the marks, indications, and conditions of the bodily organization by which the traces of the Devil's hand were believed to be discoverable. All we know is that, in particular cases, as that of Bray Wilkins's grandson Daniel, the jury found decisive proof that he had died by "an evil hand."

As for the medical profession back then, it must be acknowledged that they share a significant part of the blame for what happened. They supported and popularized the idea of witchcraft among the public and often explained poor outcomes for their patients by saying that "an evil hand" was upon them. Their views on this issue are referenced throughout, appearing in many documents. There were coroners' juries in cases where it was believed someone died due to witchcraft. It's unfortunate that none of their verdicts have been preserved. Written by an attending "surgeon," these verdicts would have showcased the state of medical knowledge at the time by detailing the signs, symptoms, and conditions of the body that were thought to reveal the Devil's influence. All we know is that, in specific cases, like that of Bray Wilkins's grandson Daniel, the jury found clear evidence that he had died from "an evil hand."

It is not to be denied or concealed, that the clergy were instrumental in bringing on the witchcraft delusion in 1692. As the supposed agents of the mischief belonged to the supernatural and spiritual world, which has ever been considered their peculiar province, it was thought that the advice and co-operation of ministers were particularly appropriate and necessary. Opposition to prevailing vices and attempts to reform society were considered at that time in the light of a conflict with Satan himself; and he was thought to be the ablest minister who had the greatest power over the invisible enemy, and could most easily and effectively avert his blows, and counteract his baleful influence. This gave the clergy the front in the battle against the hosts of Belial. They were proud of the position, and were stimulated to distinguish themselves in the conflict. Cotton Mather represents that ministers were honored by the special hostility of the great enemy of souls, "more dogged by the Devil than any other men," just as, according to his philosophy,[ii.363] the lightning struck the steeples of churches more frequently than other buildings because the Prince of the Power of the Air particularly hated the places where the sound of the gospel was heard. There were, moreover, it is to be feared, ministers whose ambition to acquire influence and power had been allowed to become a ruling principle, and who favored the delusion because thereby their object could be most surely achieved by carrying the people to the greatest extremes of credulity, superstition, and fanatical blindness.

It can’t be denied that the clergy played a significant role in the witchcraft hysteria of 1692. Since the supposed agents of this mischief were linked to the supernatural and spiritual realm—areas traditionally seen as their domain—it was believed that the advice and collaboration of ministers were especially fitting and necessary. At that time, opposing societal vices and trying to reform society were viewed as battles against Satan himself; the most effective minister was seen as the one with the greatest authority over this unseen enemy, capable of directly countering his attacks and negative influence. This gave the clergy a prominent role in the fight against evil. They took pride in their position and were driven to stand out in the struggle. Cotton Mather noted that ministers were specially marked by the great enemy of souls, "more dogged by the Devil than any other men," much like, according to his reasoning, lightning struck church steeples more often than other buildings because the Prince of the Power of the Air particularly despised places where the gospel was preached. Additionally, there were, unfortunately, some ministers whose ambition for influence and power had become a driving force, and who supported the delusion because it would help them achieve their goals by pushing the people into extreme gullibility, superstition, and fanatical blindness.

But justice requires it to be said that the ministers, as a general thing, did not take the lead after the proceedings had assumed their most violent aspect, and the disastrous effects been fully brought to view. It may be said, on the contrary, that they took the lead, as a class, in checking the delusion, and rescuing the public mind from its control. Prior to the time when they were called upon to give their advice to the government, they probably followed Cotton Mather: after that, they seemed to have freed themselves generally from his influence. The names of Dane and Barnard of Andover, Higginson of Salem, Cheever of Marblehead, Hubbard and Wise of Ipswich, Payson and Phillips of Rowley, Allin of Salisbury, and Capen of Topsfield, appear in behalf of persons accused. To come forward in their defence shows courage, and proves that their influence was in the right direction, even while the proceedings were at their height. Mr. Hale, of Beverly, abandoned the prosecutions, and ex[ii.364]pressed his disapprobation of them, before the government or the Court relaxed the vigor of their operations, as is sufficiently proved by the fact that the "afflicted children" cried out against his wife. Willard, and James Allen, and Moody, and John Bailey, and even Increase Mather, of Boston, openly discountenanced the course things were taking. The latter circulated a letter from his London correspondent, a person whose opinion was entitled to weight, condemning in the strongest terms the doctrine of the chief-justice, as follows: "All that I speak with much wonder that any man, much less a man of such abilities, learning, and experience as Mr. Stoughton, should take up a persuasion that the Devil cannot assume the likeness of an innocent, to afflict another person. In my opinion, it is a persuasion utterly destitute of any solid reason to render it so much as probable." The ministers may have been among the first to bring on the delusion; but the foregoing facts prove, that, as a profession, they were the first to attempt to check and discountenance the prosecutions. While we are required, in all fairness, to give this credit to the clergy in general, it would be false to the obligations of historical truth and justice to attempt to palliate the conduct of some of them. Whoever considers all that Mr. Parris, according to his own account, said and did, cannot but shrink from the necessity of passing judgment upon him, and find relief in leaving him to that tribunal which alone can measure the extent of human responsibility,[ii.365] and sound the depths of the heart. Lawson threw into the conflagration all the combustible materials his eloquence and talents, heated, it is to be feared, by resentment, could contribute. Dr. Bentley, in his "Description and History of Salem" (Mass. Hist. Coll., 1st series, vol. vi.) says, "Mr. Noyes came out and publicly confessed his error, never concealed a circumstance, never excused himself; visited, loved, blessed, the survivors whom he had injured; asked forgiveness always, and consecrated the residue of his life to bless mankind." It is to be hoped that the statement is correct. There were several points of agreement between Noyes and Bentley. Both were men of ability and learning. Like Bentley, Noyes lived and died a bachelor; and, like him, was a man of lively and active temperament, and, in the general tenor of his life, benevolent and disinterested. Perhaps congeniality in these points led Bentley to make the statement, just quoted, a little too strong. He wrote more than a century after the witchcraft proceedings; just at that point when tradition had become inflated by all manner of current talk, of fable mixed with fact, before the correcting and expunging hand of a severe scrutiny of records and documents had commenced its work. The drag-net of time had drawn along with it every thing that anybody had said; but the process of sifting and discrimination had not begun. His kindly and ingenuous nature led him to believe, and prompted him to write down, all that was amiable, and pleasing to a mind like his. So far as the[ii.366] records and documents give us information, there is reason to apprehend, that Mr. Noyes, like Stoughton, another old bachelor, never recovered his mind from the frame of feeling or conviction in which it was during the proceedings. His name is not found, as are those of other ministers, to any petitions, memorials or certificates, in favor of the sufferers during the trials, or of reparation to their memories or to the feelings of their friends. He does not appear to have taken any part in arresting the delusion or rectifying the public mind.

But it’s fair to say that the ministers, in general, didn’t take the lead once the events had turned as violent as they did, and the disastrous effects became clear. In fact, they took the initiative as a group to combat the delusion and help the public escape its control. Before they were called to advise the government, they likely followed Cotton Mather; after that, they seemed to generally free themselves from his influence. The names of Dane and Barnard from Andover, Higginson from Salem, Cheever from Marblehead, Hubbard and Wise from Ipswich, Payson and Phillips from Rowley, Allin from Salisbury, and Capen from Topsfield, stand out as defenders of the accused. Stepping forward to defend them shows bravery and indicates that their influence was aimed in the right direction, even when the events were at their worst. Mr. Hale from Beverly ended the prosecutions and expressed his disapproval of them before the government or the Court eased their efforts, illustrated by the fact that the "afflicted children" cried out against his wife. Willard, James Allen, Moody, John Bailey, and even Increase Mather from Boston openly opposed the direction things were taking. The latter distributed a letter from his contact in London, someone whose opinion mattered, strongly criticizing the chief justice’s beliefs, stating: "I am genuinely surprised that any man, let alone someone with such capability, knowledge, and experience as Mr. Stoughton, would hold the belief that the Devil cannot take on the appearance of an innocent person to harm another. In my view, that belief is completely lacking any solid reasoning to make it even seem probable." The ministers may have been among the first to promote the delusion; however, the facts above show that, as a group, they were the first to try to stop and criticize the prosecutions. While we must credit the clergy in general for this, it would be unfair to historical truth and justice to overlook the behavior of some of them. Anyone who considers everything Mr. Parris claimed to have said and done cannot help but feel compelled to pass judgment on him but may find relief in leaving his judgment to the one tribunal that can truly measure human responsibility and understand the depths of the heart. Lawson added all the combustible materials his eloquence and talent—heated, perhaps, by anger—could muster to the fire. Dr. Bentley, in his "Description and History of Salem" (Mass. Hist. Coll., 1st series, vol. vi.), states, "Mr. Noyes came forward and openly admitted his mistakes, never hiding anything, never making excuses; he visited, cared for, and blessed the survivors he had wronged; he always sought forgiveness and devoted the rest of his life to helping humanity." It’s hoped that this account is accurate. There were several similarities between Noyes and Bentley. Both were capable and educated men. Like Bentley, Noyes lived and died a bachelor; he was also lively and active, and overall, his life was characterized by kindness and selflessness. Perhaps their shared traits led Bentley to portray Noyes in an overly positive light. He wrote this over a century after the witchcraft trials, at a time when stories had been exaggerated with various tales mixing fact with fiction, before rigorous examinations of records and documents had begun. The passage of time had gathered everything said by anyone, but the process of sorting and analyzing had not yet started. His kind and naive nature led him to believe and encouraged him to document all that was admirable, appealing to someone like him. According to the available records and documents, it seems that Mr. Noyes, like Stoughton, also another old bachelor, never moved past the mindset he had during the proceedings. His name does not appear, unlike other ministers, in any petitions, memorials, or certificates supporting the victims during the trials or seeking justice for their memories or the feelings of their friends. He does not seem to have taken any part in stopping the delusion or correcting the public mindset.

Of Cotton Mather, more is required to be said. He aspired to be considered the leading champion of the Church, and the most successful combatant against the Satanic powers. He seems to have longed for an opportunity to signalize himself in this particular kind of warfare; seized upon every occurrence that would admit of such a coloring to represent it as the result of diabolical agency; circulated in his numerous publications as many tales of witchcraft as he could collect throughout New and Old England, and repeatedly endeavored to get up cases of the kind in Boston. There is some ground for suspicion that he was instrumental in originating the fanaticism in Salem; at any rate, he took a leading part in fomenting it. And while there is evidence that he endeavored, after the delusion subsided, to escape the disgrace of having approved of the proceedings, and pretended to have been in some measure opposed to them, it can be too clearly shown that he was secretly and cunningly endeavoring to[ii.367] renew them during the next year in his own parish in Boston.[E]

Of Cotton Mather, more needs to be said. He wanted to be seen as the main defender of the Church and the most effective fighter against Satanic forces. He seemed to be eager for a chance to distinguish himself in this type of battle; he took every event that could be interpreted this way to depict it as the result of evil influence; he published as many witchcraft stories as he could gather from both New and Old England, and he tried repeatedly to stir up similar cases in Boston. There are reasons to suspect that he played a role in igniting the fanaticism in Salem; in any case, he took a leading role in encouraging it. While there is evidence that he tried to distance himself from the disgrace of endorsing the events after the hysteria died down, claiming to have been somewhat opposed to them, it can be clearly demonstrated that he was secretly and cunningly attempting to [ii.367] revive them the following year in his own parish in Boston.[E]

How blind is man to the future! The state of things which Cotton Mather labored to bring about, in order that he might increase his own influence over an infatuated people, by being regarded by them as mighty[ii.368] to cast out and vanquish evil spirits, and as able to hold Satan himself in chains by his prayers and his piety, brought him at length into such disgrace that his power was broken down, and he became the object of public ridicule and open insult. And the excitement that had been produced for the purpose of[ii.369] restoring and strengthening the influence of the clerical and spiritual leaders resulted in effects which reduced that influence to a still lower point. The intimate connection of Dr. Mather and other prominent ministers with the witchcraft delusion brought a reproach upon the clergy from which they have not yet recovered.[ii.370]

How blind is humanity to the future! The situation that Cotton Mather worked hard to create, in order to boost his own influence over a misguided people by being seen as powerful enough to cast out evil spirits and to hold Satan himself in chains through his prayers and piety, eventually led to his disgrace. His once-great power crumbled, and he became the target of public mockery and open insults. The excitement that had been generated to restore and strengthen the influence of clerical and spiritual leaders ended up diminishing that influence even further. The close ties of Dr. Mather and other prominent ministers to the witchcraft delusion brought shame upon the clergy, from which they have yet to recover.[ii.370]

In addition to the designing exertions of ambitious ecclesiastics, and the benevolent and praiseworthy efforts of those whose only aim was to promote a real and thorough reformation of religion, all the passions of our nature stood ready to throw their concentrated energy into the excitement (as they are sure to do, whatever may be its character), so soon as it became sufficiently strong to encourage their action.

Along with the design efforts of ambitious church leaders, and the kind and commendable actions of those who genuinely wanted to bring about a true and complete reform of religion, all our natural passions were ready to unleash their full force into the excitement (as they always do, regardless of what kind it is), as soon as it became strong enough to provoke their involvement.

The whole force of popular superstition, all the[ii.371] fanatical propensities of the ignorant and deluded multitude, united with the best feelings of our nature to heighten the fury of the storm. Piety was indignant at the supposed rebellion against the sovereignty of God, and was roused to an extreme of agitation and apprehension in witnessing such a daring and fierce assault by the Devil and his adherents upon the churches and the cause of the gospel. Virtue was shocked at the tremendous guilt of those who were believed to have entered the diabolical confederacy; while public order and security stood aghast, amidst the invisible, the supernatural, the infernal, and apparently the irresistible attacks that were making upon the foundations of society. In baleful combination with principles, good in themselves, thus urging the passions into wild operation, there were all the wicked and violent affections to which humanity is liable. Theological bitterness, personal animosities, local controversies, private feuds, long-cherished grudges, and professional jealousies, rushed forward, and raised their discordant voices, to swell the horrible din; credulity rose with its monstrous and ever-expanding form, on the ruins of truth, reason, and the senses; malignity and cruelty rode triumphant through the storm, by whose fury every mild and gentle sentiment had been shipwrecked; and revenge, smiling in the midst of the tempest, welcomed its desolating wrath as it dashed the mangled objects of its hate along the shore.

The full force of popular superstition, along with the extreme tendencies of the ignorant and misled crowd, combined with our deepest instincts to amplify the chaos of the storm. Devoutness was outraged at what they saw as a rebellion against God's authority and became highly agitated and anxious witnessing such a bold and fierce attack by the Devil and his followers against the churches and the message of the gospel. Morality was appalled by the grave wrongdoing of those thought to be part of this evil alliance, while public order and safety stood horrified amid the unseen, the supernatural, the hellish, and seemingly unstoppable assaults on the foundations of society. In a harmful blend with inherently good principles that were driving emotions into a frenzy, there were all the wicked and violent feelings that humanity is prone to. Theological disputes, personal vendettas, local conflicts, private grudges, long-held resentments, and professional rivalries surged forth, raising their clashing voices to amplify the horrific noise; gullibility surged with its monstrous and ever-growing presence, trampling over truth, reason, and the senses; malice and cruelty triumphed amid the storm, which had shipwrecked every gentle and kind sentiment; and vengeance, smiling amid the chaos, welcomed its destructive rage as it swept the mangled victims of its hatred along the shore.

The treatment of the prisoners, by the administra[ii.372]tive and subordinate officers in charge of them, there is reason to apprehend, was more than ordinarily harsh and unfeeling. The fate of Willard prevented expressions of kindness towards them. The crime of which they were accused put them outside of the pale of human charities. All who believed them guilty looked upon them, not only with horror, but hate. To have deliberately abandoned God and heaven, the salvation of Christ and the brotherhood of man, was regarded as detestable, execrable, and utterly and for ever damnable. This was the universal feeling at the time when the fanaticism was at its height; or, if there were any dissenters, they dared not show themselves. What the poor innocent sufferers experienced of cruelty, wrong, and outrage from this cause, it is impossible for words to tell. It left them in prison to neglect, ignominious ill-treatment, and abusive language from the menials having charge of them; it made their trials a brutal mockery; it made the pathway to the gallows a series of insults from an exasperated mob. If dear relatives or faithful friends kept near them, they did it at the peril of their lives, and were forbidden to utter the sentiments with which their hearts were breaking. There was no sympathy for those who died, or for those who mourned.

The treatment of the prisoners by the administrative and junior officers in charge of them was, from what we can tell, unusually harsh and unfeeling. The fate of Willard discouraged any kindness shown towards them. The crime they were accused of pushed them outside the bounds of human compassion. Anyone who believed they were guilty looked at them not just with horror but with hate. To have purposely rejected God and heaven, the salvation of Christ, and the brotherhood of humanity was seen as despicable, horrifying, and utterly damning. This was the prevailing sentiment when fanaticism was at its peak; any dissenters kept quiet. The cruelty, injustice, and violence the poor innocent victims endured because of this situation is beyond words. They were left in prison to suffer neglect, disgraceful abuse, and harsh language from the attendants responsible for their care; their trials were a brutal farce; the road to the gallows was filled with insults from an angry mob. If close relatives or loyal friends stayed by them, they did so at great personal risk and were not allowed to express the grief that weighed on their hearts. There was no compassion for those who died or for those who were left grieving.

It may seem strange to us, at this distance of time, and with the intelligence prevalent in this age, that persons of such known, established, and eminent reputation as many of those whose cases have been par[ii.373]ticularly noticed, could possibly have been imagined guilty of the crime imputed to them. The question arises in every mind, Why did not their characters save them from conviction, and even from suspicion? The answer is to be found in the peculiar views then entertained of the power and agency of Satan. It was believed that it would be one of the signs of his coming to destroy the Church of Christ, that some of the "elect" would be seduced into his service,—that he would drag captive in his chains, and pervert into instruments to further his wicked cause, many who stood among the highest in the confidence of Christians. This belief made them more vehement in their proceedings against ministers, church-members, and persons of good repute, who were proved, by the overwhelming evidence of the "afflicted children" and the confessing witches, to have made a compact with the Devil. There is reason to fear that Mr. Burroughs, and all accused persons of the highest reputation before for piety and worth, especially all who had been professors of religion and accredited church-members, suffered more than others from the severity of the judges and executive officers of the law, and from the rage and hatred of the people. It was indeed necessary, in order to keep up the delusion and maintain the authority of the prosecutions, to break down the influence of those among the accused and the sufferers who had stood the highest, and bore themselves the best through the fiery ordeal of the examinations, trials, and executions.[ii.374]

It might seem odd to us now, given how much time has passed and the knowledge we have today, that well-known and respected individuals, like some mentioned in this text, could be thought guilty of the crimes attributed to them. The question arises: why didn’t their reputations protect them from being convicted or even suspected? The answer lies in the unique beliefs of that time regarding the power and influence of Satan. It was believed that one of the signs of his intent to destroy the Church of Christ would be that some of the “elect” would be tempted into serving him—that he would ensnare many who were highly regarded by Christians and turn them into tools to advance his evil agenda. This belief fueled a more aggressive approach against ministers, church members, and reputable individuals who were accused, based on overwhelming testimonies from the “afflicted children” and confessing witches, of having made deals with the Devil. There is reason to worry that Mr. Burroughs and all those accused who had previously been held in high regard for their piety and character, especially those who were religious leaders and respected church members, suffered more than others due to the harshness of the judges and law enforcement, as well as the anger and hatred of the public. It was indeed essential, to sustain the illusion and uphold the prosecutions’ authority, to undermine the influence of those among the accused and the victims who had maintained their dignity and composure through the intense scrutiny of the examinations, trials, and executions.[ii.374]

It is indeed a very remarkable fact, which has justly been enlarged upon by several who have had their attention turned to this subject, that, of the whole number that suffered, none, in the final scene, lost their fortitude for a moment. Many were quite aged; a majority, women, of whom some, brought up in delicacy, were wholly unused to rough treatment or physical suffering. They must have undergone the most dreadful hardships, suddenly snatched from their families and homes; exposed to a torrent of false accusations imputing to them the most odious, shameful, and devilish crimes; made objects of the abhorrence of their neighbors, and, through the notoriety of the affair, of the world; carried to and fro, over rugged roads, from jail to jail, too often by unfeeling sub-officials; immured in crowded, filthy, and noisome prisons; heavily loaded with chains, in dungeons; left to endure insufficient attention to necessary personal wants, often with inadequate food and clothing; all expressions of sympathy for them withheld and forbidden,—those who ought to have been their comforters denouncing them in the most awful language, and consigning them to the doom of excommunication from the church on earth and from the hope of heaven. Surely, there have been few cases in the dark and mournful annals of human suffering and wrong, few instances of "man's inhumanity to man," to be compared with what the victims of this tragedy endured. Their bearing through the whole, from the arrest to the scaffold, reflects[ii.375] credit upon our common nature. The fact that Wardwell lost his firmness, for a time, ought not to exclude his name from the honored list. Its claim to be enrolled on it was nobly retrieved by his recantation, and his manly death.

It’s truly an incredible fact, which has rightfully been elaborated on by several who have focused on this topic, that none of those who suffered lost their courage for even a moment in their final moments. Many were quite elderly; most were women, some of whom were raised in comfort and were completely unaccustomed to harsh treatment or physical pain. They must have endured the worst hardships, suddenly taken from their families and homes; subjected to a flood of false accusations that charged them with the most horrible, shameful, and wicked crimes; turned into targets of disdain from their neighbors, and, due to the notoriety of the situation, from the world; transported back and forth over rough roads, from jail to jail, too often by callous minor officials; confined in overcrowded, filthy, and foul-smelling prisons; heavily shackled in dungeons; forced to deal with neglect regarding their basic needs, often receiving insufficient food and clothing; and all expressions of sympathy for them denied and prohibited—those who should have been their supporters denouncing them in the most terrible terms and condemning them to be excommunicated from the church on earth and stripped of hope in heaven. Truly, there have been few cases in the dark and sorrowful history of human suffering and injustice, few examples of "man's cruelty to man," that can compare to what the victims of this tragedy endured. Their dignity throughout the entire ordeal, from arrest to execution, reflects[ii.375] credit on our shared humanity. The fact that Wardwell momentarily lost his composure shouldn’t exclude him from the esteemed list. His right to be included was heroically regained through his recantation and his courageous death.

There is one consideration that imparts a higher character to the deportment of these persons than almost any of the tests to which the firmness of the mind of man has ever been exposed. There was nothing outside of the mind to hold it up, but every thing to bear it down. All that they had in this world, all on which they could rest a hope for the next, was the consciousness of their innocence. Their fidelity to this sense of innocence—for a lie would have saved them—their unfaltering allegiance to this consciousness; the preservation of a calm, steadfast, serene mind; their faith and their prayers, rising above the maledictions of a maniac mob, in devotion to God and forgiveness to men, and, as in the case of Martha Corey and George Burroughs, in clear and collected expressions,—this was truly sublime. It was appreciated, at the time, by many a heart melted back to its humanity; and paved the way for the deliverance of the world, we trust for ever, from all such delusions, horrors, and spectacles. The sufferers in 1692 deserve to be held in grateful remembrance for having illustrated the dignity of which our nature is capable; for having shown that integrity of conscience is an armor which protects the peace of the soul against all the powers that can assail it; and for having given an[ii.376] example, that will be seen of all and in all times, of a courage, constancy, and faithfulness of which all are capable, and which can give the victory over infirmities of age, weaknesses and pains of body, and the most appalling combination of outrages to the mind and heart that can be accumulated by the violence and the wrath of man. Superstition and ignorance consigned their names to obloquy, and shrouded them in darkness. But the day has dawned; the shadows are passing away; truth has risen; the reign of superstition is over; and justice will be done to all who have been true to themselves, and stood fast to the integrity of their souls, even to the death.

There’s one thing that gives these individuals a higher character than almost any challenge the human mind has ever faced. There was nothing outside their minds to support them, only everything to weigh them down. All they had in this world, all they could hope for in the next, was the knowledge of their innocence. Their loyalty to this sense of innocence—because a lie could have saved them—their unwavering commitment to this awareness; their ability to maintain a calm, steady, and peaceful mind; their faith and prayers, rising above the curses of a mad mob, in devotion to God and forgiveness for others; and, in the cases of Martha Corey and George Burroughs, their clear and composed expressions—this was truly remarkable. Many hearts softened back to their humanity at the time, and this paved the way for the world’s liberation, we hope, forever from such delusions, horrors, and spectacles. The victims of 1692 deserve to be remembered with gratitude for demonstrating the dignity our nature is capable of; for showing that integrity of conscience is an armor that protects the soul’s peace from all that can attack it; and for providing an[ii.376] example that will be seen by all and in all times, a demonstration of courage, constancy, and faithfulness that everyone can achieve, giving the strength to overcome the frailties of age, the pains of the body, and the most horrific combinations of outrage that can be inflicted by human violence and wrath. Superstition and ignorance condemned their names to disgrace and cloaked them in darkness. But the day has come; the shadows are clearing; truth has emerged; the era of superstition is over; and justice will be served to all who have remained true to themselves and have held firm to the integrity of their souls, even unto death.

The place selected for the executions is worthy of notice. It was at a considerable distance from the jail, and could be reached only by a circuitous and difficult route. It is a fatiguing enterprise to get at it now, although many passages that approach it from some directions have since been opened. But it was a point where the spectacle would be witnessed by the whole surrounding country far and near, being on the brow of the highest eminence in the vicinity of the town. As it was believed by the people generally that they were engaged in a great battle with Satan, one of whose titles was "the Prince of the Power of the Air," perhaps they chose that spot to execute his confederates, because, in going to that high point, they were flaunting him in his face, celebrating their triumph over him in his own realm. There is no contemporaneous nor immediately subsequent record, that[ii.377] the executions took place on the spot assigned by tradition; but that tradition has been uniform and continuous, and appears to be verified by a singular item of evidence that has recently come to light. A letter written by the late venerable Dr. Holyoke to a friend at a distance, dated Salem, Nov. 25, 1791, has found its way back to the possession of one of his grand-daughters, which contains the following passage: "In the last month, there died a man in this town, by the name of John Symonds, aged a hundred years lacking about six months, having been born in the famous '92. He has told me that his nurse had often told him, that, while she was attending his mother at the time she lay in with him, she saw, from the chamber windows, those unhappy people hanging on Gallows' Hill, who were executed for witches by the delusion of the times." John Symonds lived and died near the southern end of Beverly Bridge, on the south side of what is now Bridge Street. He was buried from his house, and Dr. Bentley made the funeral prayer, in which he is said to have used this language: "O God! the man who with his own hands felled the trees, and hewed the timbers, and erected the house in which we are now assembled, was the ancestor of him whose remains we are about to inter." It is inferrible from this that Symonds was born in the house from which he was buried. Gallows Hill, now "Witch Hill" is in full view from that spot, and would be from the chamber windows of a house there, at any time, even in the season when intervening trees were in their[ii.378] fullest foliage, while no other point in that direction would be discernible. From the only other locality of persons of the name of Symonds, at that time, in North Fields near the North Bridge, Witch Hill is also visible, and the only point in that direction that then would have been.

The location chosen for the executions is noteworthy. It was quite far from the jail, accessible only by a complicated and challenging route. Even now, it’s a tiring trek to get there, although several paths leading to it from different directions have been opened since then. But it was a spot where the spectacle could be seen by everyone in the surrounding area, being on the edge of the highest point near the town. The locals generally believed they were engaged in a massive battle against Satan, known as "the Prince of the Power of the Air," so they might have picked that location for the executions as a way to confront him directly, celebrating their victory over him in his own territory. There is no contemporary or immediate record that[ii.377] the executions actually took place at the traditional site; however, this tradition has been consistent and seems to be supported by a remarkable piece of evidence that has recently come to light. A letter written by the late esteemed Dr. Holyoke to a distant friend, dated Salem, Nov. 25, 1791, has returned to the hands of one of his granddaughters. It contains this passage: "Last month, a man named John Symonds died in this town, just shy of a hundred years old, having been born in the famous '92. He told me that his nurse often recounted to him that while attending his mother during his birth, she saw from the chamber windows those unfortunate people hanging on Gallows' Hill, who were executed for witchcraft due to the delusions of the time." John Symonds lived and died near the southern end of Beverly Bridge, on the south side of what is now Bridge Street. He was buried from his home, and Dr. Bentley led the funeral service, in which he is said to have prayed: "O God! the man who with his own hands cut down the trees, shaped the timbers, and built the house in which we are now gathered, was the ancestor of the person whose remains we are about to inter." It can be inferred from this that Symonds was born in the house from which he was buried. Gallows Hill, now known as "Witch Hill," is clearly visible from that location, and would have been visible from the windows of a house there at any time, even during the season when the surrounding trees were fully leafed out; no other point in that direction would have been identifiable. From the only other group of people with the last name Symonds at that time, in North Fields near the North Bridge, Witch Hill is also visible, and was the only notable point in that direction back then.

"Witch Hill" is a part of an elevated ledge of rock on the western side of the city of Salem, broken at intervals; beginning at Legg's Hill, and trending northerly. The turnpike from Boston enters Salem through one of the gaps in this ridge, which has been widened, deepened, and graded. North of the turnpike, it rises abruptly to a considerable elevation, called "Norman's Rocks." At a distance of between three and four hundred feet, it sinks again, making a wide and deep gulley; and then, about a third of a mile from the turnpike, it re-appears, in a precipitous and, at its extremity, inaccessible cliff, of the height of fifty or sixty feet. Its southern and western aspect, as seen from the rough land north of the turnpike, is given in the headpiece of the Third Part, at the beginning of this volume. Its sombre and desolate appearance admits of little variety of delineation. It is mostly a bare and naked ledge. At the top of this cliff, on the southern brow of the eminence, the executions are supposed to have taken place. The outline rises a little towards the north, but soon begins to fall off to the general level of the country. From that direction only can the spot be easily reached. It is hard to climb the western side, impossible to clamber[ii.379] up the southern face. Settlement creeps down from the north, and has partially ascended the eastern acclivity, but can never reach the brink. Scattered patches of soil are too thin to tempt cultivation, and the rock is too craggy and steep to allow occupation. An active and flourishing manufacturing industry crowds up to its base; but a considerable surface at the top will for ever remain an open space. It is, as it were, a platform raised high in air.

"Witch Hill" is a section of elevated rock on the western side of Salem, consisting of breaks at intervals. It starts at Legg's Hill and trends northward. The turnpike from Boston enters Salem through one of the gaps in this ridge, which has been expanded and improved. North of the turnpike, it rises sharply to a significant height known as "Norman's Rocks." After about three to four hundred feet, it drops again, forming a wide and deep gully, and then, around a third of a mile from the turnpike, it re-emerges as a steep and, at its edge, inaccessible cliff about fifty or sixty feet high. Its southern and western view, as seen from the rough terrain north of the turnpike, is depicted in the headpiece of the Third Part, at the beginning of this volume. Its dark and desolate look offers little variety. It’s mostly just bare rock. At the top of this cliff, on the southern edge of the elevation, the executions are believed to have taken place. The outline rises slightly to the north but soon levels off to match the land around it. That direction is the only easy way to access the spot. Climbing up the western side is difficult, and the southern face is impossible to scale. Development is spreading down from the north and has partially reached the eastern slope, but it will never reach the top. Scattered patches of soil are too thin to farm, and the rocky terrain is too steep to inhabit. An active and thriving manufacturing industry sits at its base, but a substantial area at the top will always remain open. It’s, in a way, a platform high in the air.

A magnificent panorama of ocean, island, headland, bay, river, town, field, and forest spreads out and around to view. On a clear summer day, the picture can scarcely be surpassed. Facing the sun and the sea, and the evidences of the love and bounty of Providence shining over the landscape, the last look of earth must have suggested to the sufferers a wide contrast between the mercy of the Creator and the wrath of his creatures. They beheld the face of the blessed God shining upon them in his works, and they passed with renewed and assured faith into his more immediate presence. The elevated rock, uplifted by the divine hand, will stand while the world stands, in bold relief, and can never be obscured by the encroachments of society or the structures of art,—a fitting memorial of their constancy.

A breathtaking view of the ocean, islands, cliffs, bays, rivers, towns, fields, and forests unfolds around you. On a clear summer day, the scene is almost unbeatable. As they face the sun and the sea, with the signs of divine love and generosity shining over the landscape, the final glimpse of the earth must have shown the victims a stark contrast between the kindness of the Creator and the anger of His creations. They saw the face of the blessed God reflecting in His works, and they moved on to His more immediate presence with renewed and assured faith. The towering rock, raised by divine hands, will remain as long as the world lasts, standing proudly without being hidden by the advances of society or the creations of art—a fitting tribute to their steadfastness.

When, in some coming day, a sense of justice, appreciation of moral firmness, sympathy for suffering innocence, the diffusion of refined sensibility, a discriminating discernment of what is really worthy of commemoration among men, a rectified taste, a gen[ii.380]erous public spirit, and gratitude for the light that surrounds and protects us against error, folly, and fanaticism, shall demand the rearing of a suitable monument to the memory of those who in 1692 preferred death to a falsehood, the pedestal for the lofty column will be found ready, reared by the Creator on a foundation that can never be shaken while the globe endures, or worn away by the elements, man, or time—the brow of Witch Hill. On no other spot could such a tribute be more worthily bestowed, or more conspicuously displayed.

When, one day in the future, a sense of justice, appreciation for moral strength, compassion for innocent suffering, the spread of refined sensitivity, a keen understanding of what truly deserves to be remembered by humanity, improved taste, a generous public spirit, and gratitude for the guidance that protects us from error, foolishness, and extremism all come together to call for a fitting monument to honor those who in 1692 chose death over a lie, the base for the grand column will already be prepared, established by the Creator on a foundation that can never be shaken as long as the world lasts, or eroded by the elements, mankind, or time—the summit of Witch Hill. No other place could receive such a tribute more appropriately, or be more prominently showcased.

The effects of the delusion upon the country at large were very disastrous. It cast its shadows over a broad surface, and they darkened the condition of generations. The material interests of the people long felt its blight. Breaking out at the opening of the season, it interrupted the planting and cultivating of the grounds. It struck an entire summer out of one year, and broke in upon another. The fields were neglected; fences, roads, barns, and even the meeting-house, went into disrepair. Burdens were accumulated upon the already over-taxed resources of the people. An actual scarcity of provisions, amounting almost to a famine, continued for some time to press upon families. Farms were brought under mortgage or sacrificed, and large numbers of the people were dispersed. One locality in the village, which was the scene of this wild and tragic fanaticism, bears to this day the marks of the blight then brought upon it. Although in the centre of a town exceeding almost[ii.381] all others in its agricultural development and thrift,—every acre elsewhere showing the touch of modern improvement and culture,—the "old meeting-house road," from the crossing of the Essex Railroad to the point where it meets the road leading north from Tapleyville, has to-day a singular appearance of abandonment. The Surveyor of Highways ignores it. The old, gray, moss-covered stone walls are dilapidated, and thrown out of line. Not a house is on either of its borders, and no gate opens or path leads to any. Neglect and desertion brood over the contiguous grounds. Indeed, there is but one house standing directly on the roadside until you reach the vicinity of the site of the old meeting-house; and that is owned and occupied by a family that bear the name and are the direct descendants of Rebecca Nurse. On both sides there are the remains of cellars, which declare that once it was lined by a considerable population. Along this road crowds thronged in 1692, for weeks and months, to witness the examinations.

The impact of the delusion on the country as a whole was very devastating. It cast its shadows over a wide area, darkening the lives of generations. The people's material interests felt its effects for a long time. Starting at the beginning of the season, it disrupted farming and cultivating the land. It wiped out an entire summer from one year and intruded upon another. The fields were neglected; fences, roads, barns, and even the meeting house fell into disrepair. Burdens piled up on the already overtaxed resources of the people. A real shortage of food, nearly reaching famine levels, continued for some time, weighing heavily on families. Farms were mortgaged or sold off, and many people were displaced. One area in the village, the site of this wild and tragic fanaticism, still shows the scars of that blight today. Even though it’s in the middle of a town that is among the most advanced in agriculture and prosperity—every acre elsewhere showcasing modern improvements and care—the "old meeting-house road," from where it crosses the Essex Railroad to the intersection with the road leading north from Tapleyville, now has a strange sense of abandonment. The Highway Surveyor overlooks it. The old, gray, moss-covered stone walls are crumbling and out of alignment. There are no houses on either side, and no gates or paths leading to any. Neglect and abandonment hang over the neighboring lands. In fact, there’s only one house standing directly on the roadside until you get near the old meeting-house site; that house is owned and occupied by a family who carries the name and are direct descendants of Rebecca Nurse. On both sides, there are remnants of cellars, indicating that it was once populated. Along this road, crowds gathered in 1692, for weeks and months, to witness the trials.

The ruinous results were not confined to the village, but extended more or less over the country generally. Excitement, wrought up to consternation, spread everywhere. People left their business and families, and came from distant points, to gratify their curiosity, and enable themselves to form a judgment of the character of the phenomena here exhibited. Strangers from all parts swelled the concourse, gathered to behold the sufferings of "the afflicted" as manifested at the examinations; and flocked to the surrounding[ii.382] eminences and the grounds immediately in front of Witch Hill, to catch a view of the convicts as they approached the place selected for their execution, offered their dying prayers, and hung suspended high in air. Such scenes always draw together great multitudes. None have possessed a deeper, stronger, or stranger attraction; and never has the dread spectacle been held out to view over a wider area, or from so conspicuous a spot. The assembling of such multitudes so often, for such a length of time, and from such remote quarters, must have been accompanied and followed by wasteful, and in all respects deleterious, effects. The continuous or frequently repeated sessions of the magistrates, grand jury, and jury of trials; and the attendance of witnesses summoned from other towns, or brought from beyond the jurisdiction of the Province, and of families and parties interested specially in the proceedings,—must have occasioned an extensive and protracted interruption of the necessary industrial pursuits of society, and heavily increased the public burdens.

The disastrous consequences weren't just limited to the village; they spread across the entire country. Panic turned into widespread fear, affecting everyone. People abandoned their jobs and families, traveling from far away to satisfy their curiosity and judge for themselves what was happening. Strangers from all over joined the crowd to witness the suffering of "the afflicted" during the examinations. They gathered on nearby hills and in the fields in front of Witch Hill to catch a glimpse of the convicts as they approached the site chosen for their execution, offering their final prayers while suspended high in the air. Such scenes always draw huge crowds. Few have had such a deep, powerful, or unusual allure, and never has such a frightening spectacle been displayed over a larger area or from a more prominent location. The gathering of so many people, so frequently, for such a long time, from such distant places must have caused wasteful and harmful effects all around. The ongoing or regular court sessions, grand jury meetings, and jury trials; along with the presence of witnesses summoned from other towns or brought from outside the Province's jurisdiction, and of families and individuals with a vested interest in the cases—must have led to a significant and prolonged disruption of vital economic activities in society, resulting in heavier public burdens.

The destruction dealt upon particular families extended to so many as to constitute in the aggregate a vast, wide-spread calamity.[F]

The destruction inflicted on certain families affected so many that it created a massive, widespread disaster.[F]

The facts that belong to the story of the witchcraft delusion of 1692, or that may in any way explain or illustrate it, so far as they can be gathered from the imperfect and scattered records and papers that have come down to us, have now been laid before you. But there are one or two inquiries that force themselves upon thoughtful minds, which demand consideration before we close the subject.[ii.384]

The facts related to the witchcraft panic of 1692, or that can help explain or clarify it, as much as we can gather from the incomplete and scattered records and documents that we have, have been presented to you. However, there are a couple of questions that arise for thoughtful individuals, which need to be addressed before we wrap up this topic.[ii.384]

What are we to think of those persons who commenced and continued the accusations,—the "afflicted children" and their associates?

What should we think of the people who started and kept the accusations going—the "afflicted children" and their friends?

In some instances and to some extent, the steps they took and the testimony they bore may be explained by referring to the mysterious energies of the imagination, the power of enthusiasm, the influence of sympathy, and the general prevalence of credulity,[ii.385] ignorance, superstition, and fanaticism at the time; and it is not probable, that, when they began, they had any idea of the tremendous length to which they were finally led on.

In some cases and to a certain degree, the actions they took and the stories they shared can be understood by looking at the strange forces of imagination, the strength of passion, the effect of empathy, and the widespread naivety, ignorance, superstition, and fanaticism of the time; and it’s unlikely that, when they started, they had any notion of how far they would ultimately go.[ii.385]

It was perhaps their original design to gratify a love of notoriety or of mischief by creating a sensation and excitement in their neighborhood, or, at the worst, to wreak their vengeance upon one or two individuals who had offended them. They soon, however, became intoxicated by the terrible success of their imposture, and were swept along by the frenzy they had occasioned. It would be much more congenial with our feelings to believe, that these misguided and wretched young persons early in the proceedings became themselves victims of the delusion into which they plunged every one else. But we are forbidden to form this charitable judgment by the manifestations of art and contrivance, of deliberate cunning and cool malice, they exhibited to the end. Once or twice they were caught in their own snare; and nothing but the blindness of the bewildered community saved them from disgraceful exposure and well-deserved punishment. They appeared as the prosecutors of every poor creature that was tried, and seemed ready to bear testimony against any one upon whom suspicion might happen to fall. It is dreadful to reflect upon the enormity of their wickedness, if they were conscious of imposture throughout. It seems to transcend the capabilities of human crime. There is, perhaps, a slumbering element in the heart of man,[ii.386] that sleeps for ever in the bosom of the innocent and good, and requires the perpetration of a great sin to wake it into action, but which, when once aroused, impels the transgressor onward with increasing momentum, as the descending ball is accelerated in its course. It may be that crime begets an appetite for crime, which, like all other appetites, is not quieted but inflamed by gratification.

It might have been their original plan to satisfy a desire for fame or mischief by creating a stir and excitement in their neighborhood, or, at the very least, to take revenge on a few individuals who had wronged them. However, they quickly became intoxicated by the terrible success of their deception and were swept up in the frenzy they had created. It would be much easier to believe that these misguided and miserable young people soon became victims of the delusion that they had plunged everyone else into. But we can't form this kind of charitable judgment because of the manipulative behavior, deliberate cunning, and cold malice they displayed until the very end. Once or twice they were caught in their own trap, and it was only the blindness of the confused community that saved them from disgrace and well-deserved punishment. They acted as accusers against every poor soul that was put on trial and seemed eager to testify against anyone who happened to draw suspicion. It’s terrifying to consider the depth of their wickedness if they were aware of their deception the whole time. It seems to go beyond what human wrongdoing can typically reach. There is perhaps a hidden element in the heart of man, [ii.386] that remains dormant in the innocent and good, and only requires a significant sin to awaken it into action. But once it is stirred, it drives the wrongdoer forward with increasing speed, just as a falling ball gains momentum in its descent. It may be that crime creates a craving for more crime, which, like any other appetite, is not satisfied but rather inflamed by indulgence.

Their precise moral condition, the degree of guilt to be ascribed, and the sentence to be passed upon them, can only be determined by a considerate review of all the circumstances and influences around them.

Their exact moral state, the level of guilt assigned to them, and the punishment they should receive can only be figured out through a thoughtful examination of all the circumstances and influences surrounding them.

For a period embracing about two months, they had been in the habit of meeting together, and spending the long winter evenings, at Mr. Parris's house, practising the arts of fortune-telling, jugglery, and magic. What they had heard in the traditions and fables of a credulous and superstitious age,—stories handed down in the interior settlements, circulated in companies gathered around the hearths of farmhouses, indulging the excitements of terrified imaginations; filling each other's minds with wondrous tales of second-sight, ghosts and spirits from the unseen world, together with what the West-Indian or South-American slaves could add,—was for a long time the food of their fancies. They experimented continually upon what was the spiritualism of their day, and grew familiar with the imagery and the exhibitions of the marvellous. The prevalent notions concerning witch[ii.387]craft operations and spectral manifestations came into full effect among them. Living in the constant contemplation of such things, their minds became inflamed and bewildered; and, at the same time, they grew expert in practising and exhibiting the forms of pretended supernaturalism, the conditions of diabolical distraction, and the terrors of demonology. Apparitions rose before them, revealing the secrets of the past and of the future. They beheld the present spectres of persons then bodily far distant. They declared in language, fits, dreams, or trance, the immediate operations upon themselves of the Devil, by the agency of his confederates. Their sufferings, while thus under "an evil hand," were dreadful to behold, and soon drew wondering and horror-struck crowds around them.

For about two months, they had formed a habit of gathering at Mr. Parris's house to spend the long winter evenings practicing fortune-telling, juggling, and magic. What they learned from the stories and myths of a gullible and superstitious time—tales passed down in the rural settlements and shared among groups gathered around farmhouse fires—sparked their imaginations, filling them with exciting stories of second sight, ghosts, and spirits from the unseen world, along with whatever the West-Indian or South-American slaves could contribute. For a long time, these tales fed their fantasies. They continually experimented with the spiritualism of their era, becoming familiar with its imagery and displays of the extraordinary. The common beliefs about witchcraft and ghostly appearances became fully active in their lives. Living constantly in contemplation of such things made their minds restless and confused; at the same time, they became skilled in performing and showcasing acts of supposed supernaturalism, the conditions of demonic distraction, and the fears of demonology. Apparitions appeared before them, revealing secrets about the past and the future. They saw present ghosts of people who were physically far away. They expressed, through speech, fits, dreams, or trances, the immediate actions upon themselves by the Devil and his accomplices. Their sufferings during these experiences were horrifying to witness, quickly attracting crowds filled with wonder and dread.

At this point, if Mr. Parris, the ministers, and magistrates had done their duty, the mischief might have been stopped. The girls ought to have been rebuked for their dangerous and forbidden sorceries and divinations, their meetings broken up, and all such tamperings with alleged supernaturalism and spiritualism frowned down. Instead of this, the neighboring ministers were summoned to meet at Mr. Parris's house to witness the extraordinary doings of the girls, and all they did was to indorse, and pray over, them. Countenance was thus given to their pretensions, and the public confidence in the reality of their statements established. Magistrates from the town, church-members, leading people, and people of all sorts, flocked to witness the awful power of Satan, as displayed in[ii.388] the tortures and contortions of the "afflicted children;" who became objects of wonder, so far as their feats were regarded, and of pity in view of their agonies and convulsions.

At this point, if Mr. Parris, the ministers, and magistrates had done their jobs, the trouble could have been stopped. The girls should have been scolded for their dangerous and forbidden magic and fortune-telling, their gatherings shut down, and all such meddling with supposed supernaturalism and spiritualism discouraged. Instead, the local ministers were called to meet at Mr. Parris's house to see the girls' unusual activities, and all they did was support and pray for them. This gave validity to their claims and built public trust in the truth of what they were saying. Magistrates from the town, church members, prominent people, and all sorts of individuals rushed to witness the terrible power of Satan, as shown in[ii.388] the torments and twists of the "afflicted children," who became objects of both fascination, based on their performances, and sympathy due to their pains and seizures.

The aspect of the evidence rather favors the supposition, that the girls originally had no design of accusing, or bringing injury upon, any one. But the ministers at Parris's house, physicians and others, began the work of destruction by pronouncing the opinion that they were bewitched. This carried with it, according to the received doctrine, a conviction that there were witches about; for the Devil could not act except through the instrumentality of beings in confederacy with him. Immediately, the girls were beset by everybody to say who it was that bewitched them. Yielding to this pressure, they first cried out upon such persons as might have been most naturally suggested to them,—Sarah Good, apparently without a regular home, and wandering with her children from house to house for shelter and relief; Sarah Osburn, a melancholy, broken-minded, bed-ridden person; and Tituba, a slave, probably of mixed African and Indian blood. At the examination of these persons, the girls were first brought before the public, and the awful power in their hands revealed to them. The success with which they acted their parts; the novelty of the scene; the ceremonials of the occasion, the magistrates in their imposing dignity and authority, the trappings of the marshal and his officers, the forms of proceeding,—all which they had never seen[ii.389] before; the notice taken of them; the importance attached to them; invested the affair with a strange fascination in their eyes, and awakened a new class of sentiments and ideas in their minds. A love of distinction and notoriety, and the several passions that are gratified by the expression by others of sympathy, wonder, and admiration, were brought into play. The fact that all eyes were upon them, with the special notice of the magistrates, and the entire confidence with which their statements were received, flattered and beguiled them. A fearful responsibility had been assumed, and they were irretrievably committed to their position. While they adhered to that position, their power was irresistible, and they were sure of the public sympathy and of being cherished by the public favor. If they faltered, they would be the objects of universal execration and of the severest penalties of law for the wrongs already done and the falsehoods already sworn to. There was no retracing their steps; and their only safety was in continuing the excitement they had raised. New victims were constantly required to prolong the delusion, fresh fuel to keep up the conflagration; and they went on to cry out upon others. With the exception of two of their number, who appear to have indulged spite against the families in which they were servants, there is no evidence that they were actuated by private grievances or by animosities personal to themselves. They were ready and sure to wreak vengeance upon any who expressed doubts about the truth of their[ii.390] testimony, or the propriety of the proceedings; but, beyond this, they were very indifferent as to whom they should accuse. They were willing, as to that matter, to follow the suggestions of others, and availed themselves of all the gossip and slander and unfriendly talk in their families that reached their ears. It was found, that a hint, with a little information as to persons, places, and circumstances, conveyed to them by those who had resentments and grudges to gratify, would be sufficient for the purpose. There is reason to fear, that there were some behind them, giving direction to the accusations, and managing the frightful machinery, all the way through. The persons who were apprehended had, to a considerable extent, been obnoxious, and subject to prejudice, in connection with quarrels and controversies related in Part I., vol. i. They were "Topsfield men," or the opponents of Bayley or of Parris, or more or less connected with some other feuds. As further proof that the girls were under the guidance of older heads, it is obvious, that there was, in the order of the proceedings, a skilful arrangement of times, sequences, and concurrents, that cannot be ascribed to them. No novelist or dramatist ever laid his plot deeper, distributed his characters more artistically, or conducted more methodically the progress of his story.

The evidence suggests that the girls initially had no intention of accusing or harming anyone. However, the ministers at Parris's house, along with doctors and others, began the destructive process by claiming they were bewitched. This led to the belief, based on widely accepted views, that witches were present, as the Devil could only act through those allied with him. Suddenly, everyone pressured the girls to name who had bewitched them. Succumbing to this pressure, they first named individuals who could be easily suggested to them — Sarah Good, who seemed homeless and roamed from house to house with her children; Sarah Osburn, a sorrowful, mentally broken, bedridden woman; and Tituba, a slave of likely mixed African and Indian heritage. During the examination of these individuals, the girls were publicly exposed, revealing the frightening power they held. Their convincing performances, the novelty of the situation, the formality of the event, the dignified authority of the magistrates, the impressive attire of the marshal and his officers, and the intricate proceedings — all of which they had never witnessed before — captivated them, stirring new feelings and thoughts. They developed a desire for recognition and fame, and the emotions tied to receiving empathy, amazement, and admiration from others came into play. The attention they received, especially from the magistrates, and the total belief in their statements flattered and enchanted them. They had taken on a tremendous responsibility and were irrevocably committed to their role. As long as they maintained that role, their power was undeniable, and they could count on public sympathy and favor. If they hesitated, they would face universal contempt and severe legal consequences for their previous wrongdoings and lies. There was no turning back; their only safety lay in sustaining the frenzy they had created. New victims were constantly needed to prolong the illusion, fresh fuel to keep the fire burning, and they continued to accuse others. Except for two in their group, who seemed to act out of spite against the families they served, there is no evidence that their actions were driven by personal grievances or animosities. They were quick to seek revenge against anyone who questioned the truth of their testimony or the legitimacy of the proceedings; beyond that, they were quite indifferent about whom they accused. They were willing to follow suggestions from others and took advantage of all the gossip, slander, and unkind talk they overheard in their families. It was found that even a hint, combined with a little information about individuals, locations, and circumstances, from those harboring resentments could suffice. There are concerns that some were orchestrating their accusations from behind the scenes, controlling the terrifying events throughout. The people who were arrested had often been unpopular and subject to bias due to various disputes and controversies noted in Part I., vol. i. They were "Topsfield men," opponents of Bayley or Parris, or involved to some extent in other feuds. Additionally, it's clear that the order of the proceedings was skillfully arranged in terms of timing, sequence, and concurrent events, which could not have been managed by the girls alone. No novelist or playwright ever plotted a storyline more intricately, distributed characters more artfully, or advanced a narrative more methodically.

In the mean while, they were becoming every day more perfect in the performance of their parts; and their imaginative powers, nervous excitability, and flexibility and rapidity of muscular action, were kept[ii.391] under constant stimulus, and attaining a higher development. The effect of these things, so long continued in connection with the perpetual pretence, becoming more or less imbued with the character of belief, of their alliance and communion with spiritual beings and manifestations, may have unsettled, to some extent, their minds. Added to this, a sense of the horrid consequences of their actions, accumulating with every pang they inflicted, the innocent blood they were shedding, and the depths of ruin into which they were sinking themselves and others, not only demoralized, but to some extent, perhaps, crazed them. It is truly a marvel that their physical constitutions did not break down under the exhausting excitements, the contortions of frame, the force to which the bodily functions were subjected in trances and fits, and the strain upon all the vital energies, protracted through many months. The wonder, however, would have been greater, if the mental and moral balance had not thereby been disturbed.

Meanwhile, they were becoming more skilled every day in their roles; their imaginative abilities, heightened sensitivity, and quick and flexible physical movements were kept[ii.391] under constant pressure, reaching a higher level of development. The impact of these factors, sustained over time along with their ongoing pretense—becoming more and more infused with a sense of belief in their connection to spiritual beings and manifestations—might have disturbed their minds to some degree. Additionally, the awareness of the terrible consequences of their actions, growing with every pain they caused, the innocent blood they were spilling, and the depths of ruin into which they were dragging themselves and others not only demoralized them but may have driven them somewhat mad. It's truly remarkable that their physical bodies didn’t break down under the exhausting excitement, the convulsions, the intensity to which their bodily functions were subjected during trances and fits, and the strain on all their vital energies, extended over many months. The real wonder, however, would have been greater if their mental and moral stability hadn’t been disturbed as well.

Perpetual conversance with ideas of supernaturalism; daily and nightly communications, whether in the form of conscious imposture or honest delusion, with the spiritual world, continued through a great length of time,—as much at least as the exclusive contemplation of any one idea or class of ideas,—must be allowed to be unsalutary. Whatever keeps the thoughts wholly apart from the objects of real and natural life, and absorbs them in abstractions, cannot be favorable to the soundness of the faculties or the tone of the[ii.392] mind. This must especially be the effect, if the subjects thus monopolizing the attention partake of the marvellous and mysterious. When these things are considered, and the external circumstances of the occasion, the wild social excitement, the consternation, confusion, and horror, that were all crowded and heaped up and kept pressing upon the soul without intermission for months, the wonder is, indeed, that not only the accusers, prosecutors, and sufferers, but the whole people, did not lose their senses. Never was the great boon of life, a sound mind in a sound body, more liable to be snatched away from all parties. The depositions of Ann Putnam, Sr., have a tinge of sadness;—a melancholy, sickly mania running through them. Something of the kind is, perhaps, more or less discernible in the depositions of others.

Being constantly engaged with supernatural ideas and having daily and nightly interactions—whether they are deliberate tricks or genuine delusions—with the spiritual world for a long time, as much as focusing solely on any one idea or group of ideas, can't be healthy. Anything that keeps our thoughts completely separate from real, natural life and sinks them into abstractions cannot be good for our mental stability or well-being. This is especially true if the topics that dominate our attention are strange and mysterious. Considering this, along with the surrounding chaos, the wild social frenzy, the panic, confusion, and horror that overwhelmed everyone for months without a break, it's truly surprising that not just the accusers, the prosecutors, and the victims, but the entire population didn't lose their minds. Never has the essential blessing of life—a sound mind in a healthy body—been more at risk for everyone involved. Ann Putnam, Sr.’s statements carry a hint of sadness; there’s a melancholic, sickly obsession running through them. Something similar can be seen, to varying degrees, in the statements of others.

Let us, then, relieve our common nature from the load of the imputation, that, in its normal state, it is capable of such inconceivable wickedness, by giving to these wretched persons the benefit of the supposition that they were more or less deranged. This view renders the lesson they present more impressive and alarming. Sin in all cases, when considered by a mind that surveys the whole field, is itself insanity. In the case of these accusers, it was so great as to prove, by its very monstrousness, that it had actually subverted their nature and overthrown their reason. They followed their victims to the gallows, and jeered, scoffed, insulted them in their dying hours. Sarah Churchill, according to the testimony of Sarah Inger[ii.393]soll, on one occasion came to herself, and manifested the symptoms of a restored moral consciousness: but it was a temporary gleam, a lucid interval; and she passed back into darkness, continuing, as before, to revel in falsehood, and scatter destruction around her. With this single exception, there is not the slightest appearance of compunction or reflection among them. On the contrary, they seem to have been in a frivolous, sportive, gay frame of thought and spirits. There is, perhaps, in this view of their conduct and demeanor, something to justify the belief that they were really demented. The fact that a large amount of skilful art and adroit cunning was displayed by them is not inconsistent with the supposition that they had become partially insane; for such cunning and art are often associated with insanity.

Let's relieve our shared humanity from the burden of believing that, in its normal state, it is capable of such unimaginable wickedness by allowing these unfortunate individuals the benefit of the doubt that they were somewhat deranged. This perspective makes the lesson they present even more striking and disturbing. Sin, when viewed by a mind that sees the bigger picture, is insanity itself. In the case of these accusers, their insanity was so profound that its sheer absurdity proved they had truly lost their nature and their reason. They followed their victims to the gallows, mocking, sneering, and insulting them in their final moments. Sarah Churchill, according to the testimony of Sarah Ingersoll, once seemed to regain some moral awareness: but it was just a brief moment of clarity; she quickly fell back into darkness, continuing to indulge in falsehoods and spread destruction. Aside from that one instance, there is no sign of remorse or reflection among them. On the contrary, they appeared to be in a light-hearted, playful, and cheerful state of mind. Perhaps this perspective on their behavior and demeanor provides some justification for believing they were truly deranged. The fact that they displayed a considerable amount of skillful artistry and cleverness does not contradict the idea that they had become partially insane, as such cunning and artistry are often linked with madness.

The quick wit and ready expedients of the "afflicted children" are very remarkable. They were prompt with answers, if any attempted to cross-examine them, extricated themselves most ingeniously if ever brought into embarrassment, and eluded all efforts to entrap or expose them. Among the papers is a deposition, the use of which at the trials is not apparent. It does not purport to bear upon any particular case. Joseph Hutchinson was a firm-minded man, of strong common sense. He could not easily be deceived; and, although he took part in the proceedings at the beginning, soon became opposed to them. It looks as if, by close questions put to the child, Abigail Williams, on some occasion of his casually meeting her, he had tried[ii.394] to expose the falseness of her accusations, and that he was made to put the conversation into the shape of a deposition. It is as follows:—

The quick wit and clever tricks of the "afflicted children" are quite impressive. They were quick with answers, and if anyone tried to cross-examine them, they skillfully got themselves out of any trouble and avoided all attempts to trap or reveal them. Among the papers is a statement that doesn’t seem to relate to any specific case in the trials. Joseph Hutchinson was a level-headed man with strong common sense. He was hard to fool, and while he initially participated in the proceedings, he soon became against them. It seems that during a casual encounter with Abigail Williams, he tried to challenge her false accusations with pointed questions, and he ended up writing down the conversation as a statement. It is as follows:—

"The Deposition of Joseph Hutchinson, aged fifty-nine years, do testify as followeth: "Abigail Williams, I have heard you speak often of a book that has been offered to you. She said that there were two books: one was a short, thick book; and the other was a long book. I asked her what color the book was of. She said the books were as red as blood. I asked her if she had seen the books opened. She said she had seen it many times. I asked her if she did see any writing in the book. She said there were many lines written; and, at the end of every line, there was a seal. I asked her, who brought the book to her. She told me that it was the black man. I asked her who the black man was. She told me it was the Devil. I asked her if she was not afraid to see the Devil. She said, at the first she was, and did go from him; but now she was not afraid, but could talk with him as well as she could with me."

"The Testimony of Joseph Hutchinson, aged fifty-nine years, testifies as follows: "Abigail Williams, I have heard you mention a book that has been offered to you. She said that there were two books: one was short and thick; the other was long. I asked her what color the book was. She said the books were as red as blood. I asked her if she had seen the books opened. She said she had seen them many times. I asked her if she saw any writing in the book. She said there were many lines written, and at the end of every line, there was a seal. I asked her who brought the book to her. She told me it was the black man. I asked her who the black man was. She told me it was the Devil. I asked her if she wasn't afraid to see the Devil. She said that at first she was and did go away from him; but now she was not afraid and could talk with him just as easily as she could with me."

There is an air of ease and confidence in the answers of Abigail, which illustrates the promptness of invention and assurance of their grounds which the girls manifested on all occasions. They were never at a loss, and challenged scrutiny. Hutchinson gained no advantage, and no one else ever did, in an encounter with them.

Abigail's answers carry a sense of ease and confidence, showing the quick thinking and certainty the girls displayed in every situation. They were never caught off guard and welcomed scrutiny. Hutchinson gained no upper hand, and neither did anyone else, when faced with them.

Whatever opinion may be formed of the moral or mental condition of the "afflicted children," as to their sanity and responsibility, there can be no doubt that they were great actors. In mere jugglery and[ii.395] sleight of hand, they bear no mean comparison with the workers of wonders, in that line, of our own day. Long practice had given them complete control over their countenances, intonations of voice, and the entire muscular and nervous organization of their bodies; so that they could at will, and on the instant, go into fits and convulsions, swoon and fall to the floor, put their frames into strange contortions, bring the blood to the face, and send it back again. They could be deadly pale at one moment, at the next flushed; their hands would be clenched and held together as with a vice; their limbs stiff and rigid or wholly relaxed; their teeth would be set; they would go through the paroxysms of choking and strangulation, and gasp for breath, bringing froth and blood from the mouth; they would utter all sorts of screams in unearthly tones; their eyes remain fixed, sometimes bereft of all light and expression, cold and stony, and sometimes kindled into flames of passion; they would pass into the state of somnambulism, without aim or conscious direction in their movements, looking at some point, where was no apparent object of vision, with a wild, unmeaning glare. There are some indications that they had acquired the art of ventriloquism; or they so wrought upon the imaginations of the beholders, that the sounds of the motions and voices of invisible beings were believed to be heard. They would start, tremble, and be pallid before apparitions, seen, of course, only by themselves; but their acting was so perfect that all present thought they saw them too. They would[ii.396] address and hold colloquy with spectres and ghosts; and the responses of the unseen beings would be audible to the fancy of the bewildered crowd. They would follow with their eyes the airy visions, so that others imagined they also beheld them. This was surely a high dramatic achievement. Their representations of pain, and every form and all the signs and marks of bodily suffering,—as in the case of Ann Putnam's arm, and the indentations of teeth on the flesh in many instances,—utterly deceived everybody; and there were men present who could not easily have been imposed upon. The Attorney-general was a barrister fresh from Inns of Court in London. Deodat Lawson had seen something of the world; so had Joseph Herrick. Joseph Hutchinson was a sharp, stern, and sceptical observer. John Putnam was a man of great practical force and discrimination; so was his brother Nathaniel, and others of the village. Besides, there were many from Boston and elsewhere competent to detect a trick; but none could discover any imposture in the girls. Sarah Nurse swore that she saw Goody Bibber cheat in the matter of the pins; but Bibber did not belong to the village, and was a bungling interloper. The accusing girls showed extraordinary skill, ingenuity, and fancy in inventing the stories to which they testified, and seemed to have been familiar with the imagery which belonged to the literature of demonology. This has led some to suppose that they must have had access to books treating the subject. Our fathers abhorred, with a perfect hatred, all theatrical exhibitions. It would[ii.397] have filled them with horror to propose going to a play. But unwittingly, week after week, month in and month out, ministers, deacons, brethren, and sisters of the church rushed to Nathaniel Ingersoll's, to the village and town meeting-houses, and to Thomas Beadle's Globe Tavern, and gazed with wonder, awe, and admiration upon acting such as has seldom been surpassed on the boards of any theatre, high or low, ancient or modern.

Whatever opinions people have about the moral or mental state of the "afflicted children" regarding their sanity and accountability, there's no doubt that they were incredible actors. In terms of tricks and sleight of hand, they can easily stand up to the performers of our time. Years of practice had given them total control over their facial expressions, voice intonations, and the entire muscular and nervous system of their bodies; they could instantly go into fits and convulsions, faint and collapse, twist their bodies into strange positions, flush their faces, and then pale again at will. One moment they could be ghostly pale, and the next, they could be flushed; their hands would clench tightly, their limbs would be stiff or completely relaxed; their teeth would be set; they would go through fits of choking and gasping for air, sometimes even frothing and bleeding from the mouth; they would scream in strange, otherworldly tones; their eyes would be fixed, sometimes empty and expressionless, cold and hard, and other times blazing with passion; they could slip into a trance-like state, moving aimlessly, staring at a point where there seemed to be nothing, with a wild, vacant stare. There are signs that they had learned the art of ventriloquism; or they so fascinated the audience's imaginations that the sounds of movements and voices from invisible beings were believed to be real. They would jump, tremble, and go pale before visions that, of course, only they could see; but their performances were so convincing that everyone else believed they saw them too. They would engage in conversations with specters and ghosts; the responses from these unseen beings would be heard by the confused crowd's imagination. They would follow the phantom visions with their eyes, so others thought they saw them as well. This was undoubtedly a remarkable theatrical accomplishment. Their portrayals of pain, and every sign of bodily suffering—as in the case of Ann Putnam's arm and the bite marks on flesh in several instances—completely fooled everyone; and there were men present who wouldn't easily be deceived. The Attorney General was a barrister recently from the Inns of Court in London. Deodat Lawson had seen a bit of the world; so had Joseph Herrick. Joseph Hutchinson was a sharp, stern, and skeptical observer. John Putnam had great practical insight and judgment; so did his brother Nathaniel and others from the village. Additionally, many from Boston and other places were capable of spotting a trick; yet none found any deception in the girls. Sarah Nurse claimed she saw Goody Bibber cheat concerning the pins; but Bibber was not from the village and was just a clumsy outsider. The accusing girls displayed remarkable skill, creativity, and imagination in crafting the tales they told and seemed familiar with the themes common in demonology literature. This has led some to believe they must have had access to books on the topic. Our ancestors absolutely hated all theatrical performances. The thought of going to a play would have horrified them. Yet, unknowingly, week after week, month after month, ministers, deacons, church members, and sisters flocked to Nathaniel Ingersoll's, to the village and town meeting houses, and to Thomas Beadle's Globe Tavern, watching in wonder, awe, and admiration performances that are rarely matched on any stage, high or low, ancient or modern.

There is another aspect that perplexes and confounds the judgments of all who read the story. It is this: As it is at present the universal opinion that the whole of this witchcraft transaction was a delusion, having no foundation whatever but in the imaginations and passions; and as it is now certain, that all the accused, both the condemned and the pardoned, were entirely innocent,—how can it be explained that so many were led to confess themselves guilty? The answer to this question is to be found in those general principles which have led the wisest legislators and jurists to the conclusion, that, although on their face and at first thought, they appear to be the very best kind of evidence, yet, maturely considered, confessions made under the hope of a benefit, and sometime even without the impulses of such a hope, are to be received with great caution and wariness. Here were fifty-five persons, who declared themselves guilty of a capital, nay, a diabolical crime, of which we know they were innocent. It is probable that the motive of self-preservation influenced most of them. An[ii.398] awful death was in immediate prospect. There was no escape from the wiles of the accusers. The delusion had obtained full possession of the people, the jury, and the Court. By acknowledging a compact with Satan, they could in a moment secure their lives and liberty. It was a position which only the firmest minds could safely occupy. The principles and the prowess of ordinary characters could not withstand the temptation and the pressure. They yielded, and were saved from an impending and terrible death.

There’s another aspect that baffles and confounds everyone who reads this story. It’s this: right now, the general belief is that the entire witchcraft episode was a fantasy, having no basis in reality but in people's imaginations and emotions; and it’s now clear that all the accused, both those who were sentenced and those who were pardoned, were completely innocent—so how can we explain why so many admitted guilt? The answer lies in the broader principles that have led the smartest lawmakers and legal experts to conclude that even though, at first glance, these confessions seem like the strongest type of evidence, when looked at more closely, confessions made with the hope of gaining some benefit, and sometimes even without that hope, should be taken with great caution and skepticism. Here were fifty-five individuals who claimed they were guilty of a serious, even horrific crime, despite our knowledge of their innocence. It’s likely that the drive for self-preservation motivated most of them. An awful death was looming ahead. There was no escape from the tricks of the accusers. Everyone— the general public, the jury, and the Court—had fully succumbed to the delusion. By admitting to a pact with the devil, they could instantly secure their lives and freedom. This was a situation that only the strongest minds could handle. The principles and resilience of ordinary people couldn’t resist the temptation and pressure. They gave in and survived an approaching and terrible death.

As these confessions had a decisive effect in precipitating the public mind into the depths of its delusion, gave a fatal power to the accusers, and carried the proceedings to the horrible extremities which have concentrated upon them the attention of the world, they assume an importance in the history of the affair that demands a full and thorough exposition. At the examination of Ann Foster, at Salem Village, on the 15th of July, 1692, the following confession was, "after a while," extorted from her. It was undoubtedly the result of the overwhelming effect of the horrors of her condition upon a distressed and half-crazed mind. It shows the staple materials of which confessions were made, and the forms of absurd superstition with which the imaginations of people were then filled:—

As these confessions had a huge impact on pushing public opinion into the depths of its delusion, gave significant power to the accusers, and led the proceedings to terrible extremes that have drawn global attention, they hold an importance in the history of this case that requires a full and detailed explanation. During the examination of Ann Foster in Salem Village on July 15, 1692, the following confession was, "after a while," forced from her. It was certainly a result of the overwhelming impact of her horrific situation on a distressed and nearly crazed mind. It reveals the common themes in confessions and the absurd superstitions that filled people's imaginations at the time:—

The Devil appeared to her in the shape of a bird at several times,—such a bird as she never saw the like before; and she had had this gift (viz., of striking the afflicted down with her eye) ever since. Being asked why she thought that bird was the Devil, she answered, because he came[ii.399] white and vanished away black; and that the Devil told her she should have this gift, and that she must believe him, and told her she should have prosperity: and she said that he had appeared to her three times, and always as a bird, and the last time about half a year since, and sat upon a table,—had two legs and great eyes, and that it was the second time of his appearance that he promised her prosperity. She further stated, that it was Goody Carrier that made her a witch. She told her, that, if she would not be a witch, the Devil would tear her to pieces, and carry her away,—at which time she promised to serve the Devil; that she was at the meeting of the witches at Salem Village; that Goody Carrier came, and told her of the meeting, and would have her go: so they got upon sticks, and went said journey, and, being there, did see Mr. Burroughs, the minister, who spake to them all; that there were then twenty-five persons met together; that she tied a knot in a rag, and threw it into the fire to hurt Timothy Swan, and that she did hurt the rest that complained of her by squeezing puppets like them, and so almost choked them; that she and Martha Carrier did both ride on a stick or pole when they went to the witch-meeting at Salem Village, and that the stick broke as they were carried in the air above the tops of the trees, and they fell: but she did hang fast about the neck of Goody Carrier, and they were presently at the village; that she had heard some of the witches say that there were three hundred and five in the whole country, and that they would ruin that place, the village; that there were also present at that meeting two men besides Mr. Burroughs, the minister, and one of them had gray hair; and that the discourse among the witches at the meeting in Salem Village was, that they would afflict there to set up the Devil's kingdom.

The Devil showed up to her as a bird several times—unlike any bird she had ever seen before; and she had had this ability (specifically, of striking the afflicted down with her gaze) ever since. When asked why she believed that bird was the Devil, she replied that it appeared white and then vanished black; and that the Devil told her she would have this ability, that she must believe him, and that she would have prosperity. She mentioned that he had appeared to her three times, always in the form of a bird, the last time being about six months ago, when he sat on a table—he had two legs and big eyes, and during his second appearance, he promised her prosperity. She also claimed that it was Goody Carrier who made her a witch. Goody Carrier told her that if she didn’t become a witch, the Devil would tear her apart and take her away—at which point she agreed to serve the Devil; that she attended a witches' meeting at Salem Village; that Goody Carrier informed her about the meeting and wanted her to go: so they got on sticks and traveled there, and once they arrived, they saw Mr. Burroughs, the minister, who spoke to them all; there were about twenty-five people gathered; that she tied a knot in a rag and threw it into the fire to harm Timothy Swan, and that she harmed the others who complained about her by squeezing puppets that looked like them, almost choking them; that she and Martha Carrier both rode on a stick or pole when they went to the witch meeting at Salem Village, and that the stick broke while they were flying above the treetops, and they fell: but she clung tightly around Goody Carrier’s neck, and they quickly arrived at the village; that she heard some of the witches say there were three hundred and five of them in total in the country, and that they would ruin that place, the village; that there were also two men present at that meeting besides Mr. Burroughs, the minister, one of whom had gray hair; and that the conversation among the witches at the meeting in Salem Village was about how they would cause afflictions to establish the Devil's kingdom.

The confession of which the foregoing is the substance appears to have been drawn out at four several examinations on different days, during which she was induced by the influences around her to make her testimony more and more extravagant at each successive examination. Her daughter, Mary Lacy, called Goody Lacy, was brought up on the charge of witchcraft at the same time; and, upon finding the mother confessing, she saw that her only safety was in confessing also. When confronted, the daughter cried out to the mother, "We have forsaken Jesus Christ, and the Devil hath got hold of us. How shall we get clear of this Evil One?" She proceeded to say that she had accompanied her mother and Goody Carrier, all three riding together on the pole, to Salem Village. She then made the following statement: "About three or four years ago, she saw Mistress Bradbury, Goody Howe, and Goody Nurse baptized by the old Serpent at Newbury Falls; that he dipped their heads in the water, and then said they were his, and he had power over them; that there were six baptized at that time, who were some of the chief or higher powers, and that there might be near about a hundred in company at that time." It being asked her "after what manner she went to Newbury Falls," she answered, "the Devil carried her in his arms." She said, that, "if she did take a rag, and roll it up together, and imagine it to represent such and such a person, then that, whatsoever she did to that rag so rolled up, the person represented thereby would be[ii.401] in like manner afflicted." Her daughter, also named Mary Lacy, followed the example of her mother and grandmother, and made confession.

The confession summarized above seems to have been obtained over four different examinations on separate days, during which she was influenced by those around her to make her testimony increasingly extravagant with each new session. Her daughter, Mary Lacy, also known as Goody Lacy, faced charges of witchcraft at the same time; realizing her mother was confessing, she felt her only chance for safety was to confess as well. When confronted, the daughter exclaimed to her mother, "We have abandoned Jesus Christ, and the Devil has taken hold of us. How can we free ourselves from this Evil One?" She went on to say that she had traveled with her mother and Goody Carrier, all three riding together on the same pole, to Salem Village. She then stated: "About three or four years ago, I saw Mistress Bradbury, Goody Howe, and Goody Nurse baptized by the old Serpent at Newbury Falls; he dipped their heads in the water and declared they were his, and he had power over them; there were six baptized at that time, who were some of the main or higher authorities, and there might have been around a hundred people present then." When asked how she got to Newbury Falls, she replied, "the Devil carried me in his arms." She also claimed that if she took a rag, rolled it up, and imagined it represented a certain person, then whatever she did to that rolled rag would similarly afflict the person represented. Her daughter, also named Mary Lacy, followed her mother and grandmother's lead and made her own confession.

An examination of the confessions shows, that, when accused persons made up their minds to confess, they saw, that, to make their safety secure, it was necessary to go the whole length of the popular superstition and fanaticism. In many instances, they appear to have fabricated their stories with much ingenuity and tact, making them tally with the statements of the accusers, adding points and items that gave an air of truthfulness, and falling in with current notions and fancies. They were undoubtedly under training by the girls, and were provided with the materials of their testimony. Their depositions are valuable, inasmuch as they enable us to collect about the whole of the notions then prevalent on the subject. If, in delivering their evidences, any prompting was needed, the accusers were at their elbows, and helped them along in their stories. If, in any particular, they were in danger of contradicting themselves or others, they were checked or diverted. In one case, a confessing witch was damaging her own testimony, whereupon one of the afflicted cried out that she saw the shapes or apparitions of other witches interfering with her utterance. The witness took the hint, pretended to have lost the power of expressing herself, and was removed from the stand.

An examination of the confessions shows that when accused people decided to confess, they realized that to ensure their safety, they needed to fully embrace the popular beliefs and fanaticism of the time. In many cases, they seemed to have skillfully and cleverly fabricated their stories, making them match the statements of their accusers, adding details that made them appear credible, and aligning with common ideas and beliefs. They were clearly being guided by the girls and had been given the information for their testimonies. Their statements are valuable because they allow us to gather a complete picture of the beliefs that were prevalent at that time. If they needed any prompting while providing their testimonies, the accusers were right there to assist them in telling their stories. If they were at risk of contradicting themselves or others, they were corrected or redirected. In one instance, a confessing witch was undermining her own testimony, prompting one of the afflicted to shout that she saw the figures or spirits of other witches interfering with what she was saying. The witness took the hint, pretended to lose her ability to speak, and was taken off the stand.

In some cases, the confessing witches showed great adroitness, and knowledge of human nature. When[ii.402] a leading minister was visiting them in the prison, one of them cried out as he passed her cell, calling him by name, "Oh! I remember a text you preached on in England, twenty years since, from these words: 'Your sin will find you out;' for I find it to be true in my own case." This skilful compliment, showing the power of his preaching making an impression which time could not efface, was no doubt flattering to the good man, and secured for her his favorable influence.

In some cases, the confessing witches displayed great skill and understanding of human nature. When[ii.402] a prominent minister was visiting them in prison, one of them shouted out as he walked past her cell, calling him by name, "Oh! I remember a sermon you gave in England, twenty years ago, about these words: 'Your sin will find you out;' because I find this to be true in my own situation." This clever compliment, demonstrating how his preaching left a lasting impression, was undoubtedly flattering to the good man and earned her his support.

Justice requires that their own explanation of the influences which led them to confess should not be withheld.

Justice demands that their own explanation of the influences that led them to confess must not be kept secret.

The following declaration of six women belonging to Andover is accompanied by a paper signed by more than fifty of the most respectable inhabitants of that town, testifying to their good character, in which it is said that "by their sober, godly, and exemplary conversation, they have obtained a good report in the place, where they have been well esteemed and approved in the church of which they are members:"—

The following statement from six women in Andover is backed by a document signed by over fifty of the town's most reputable residents, confirming their good character. It states that "through their sober, pious, and exemplary behavior, they have earned a good reputation in the community, where they are well-respected and valued members of their church:"—

"We whose names are underwritten, inhabitants of Andover, when as that horrible and tremendous judgment, beginning at Salem Village, in the year 1692, by some called witchcraft, first breaking forth at Mr. Parris's house, several young persons, being seemingly afflicted, did accuse several persons for afflicting them; and many there believing it so to be, we being informed, that, if a person was sick, the afflicted person could tell what or who was the cause of that sickness: John Ballard of Andover, his wife being[ii.403] sick at the same time, he, either from himself, or by the advice of others, fetched two of the persons called the afflicted persons from Salem Village to Andover, which was the beginning of that dreadful calamity that befell us in Andover, believing the said accusations to be true, sent for the said persons to come together to the meeting-house in Andover, the afflicted persons being there. After Mr. Barnard had been at prayer, we were blindfolded, and our hands were laid upon the afflicted persons, they being in their fits, and falling into their fits at our coming into their presence, as they said: and some led us, and laid our hands upon them; and then they said they were well, and that we were guilty of afflicting them. Whereupon we were all seized as prisoners, by a warrant from the justice of the peace, and forthwith carried to Salem; and by reason of that sudden surprisal, we knowing ourselves altogether innocent of that crime, we were all exceedingly astonished and amazed, and consternated and affrighted, even out of our reason; and our nearest and dearest relations, seeing us in that dreadful condition, and knowing our great danger, apprehended there was no other way to save our lives, as the case was then circumstanced, but by our confessing ourselves to be such and such persons as the afflicted represented us to be, they, out of tenderness and pity, persuaded us to confess what we did confess. And, indeed, that confession that it is said we made was no other than what was suggested to us by some gentlemen, they telling us that we were witches, and they knew it, and we knew it, which made us think that it was so; and, our understandings, our reason, our faculties almost gone, we were not capable of judging of our condition; as also the hard measures they used with us rendered us incapable of making our defence, but said any thing, and[ii.404] every thing which they desired, and most of what we said was but in effect a consenting to what they said. Some time after, when we were better composed, they telling us what we had confessed, we did profess that we were innocent and ignorant of such things; and we hearing that Samuel Wardwell had renounced his confession, and was quickly after condemned and executed, some of us were told we were going after Wardwell.

We, whose names are signed below, residents of Andover, when that terrible judgment began in Salem Village in 1692, known by some as witchcraft, first erupted at Mr. Parris's house. Several young people, seeming to be afflicted, accused others of harming them. Many believed these accusations to be true. We were informed that if someone was sick, the afflicted person could identify the cause. John Ballard from Andover, whose wife was sick at the same time, either on his own or following advice, brought two of those identified as afflicted from Salem Village to Andover. This was the start of the terrible disaster that struck us in Andover. Believing the accusations to be true, we called these individuals to the meeting house in Andover, where the afflicted were present. After Mr. Barnard prayed, we were blindfolded, and our hands were placed on the afflicted individuals, who went into fits when we entered. Some guided us to lay hands on them, and then they claimed they were well and that we were guilty of afflicting them. As a result, we were all arrested by a warrant from the justice of the peace and taken to Salem immediately. Overwhelmed by the sudden turn of events and knowing we were innocent, we were astonished, frightened, and bewildered, almost losing our reason. Our closest relatives, witnessing our dreadful situation and knowing the danger we faced, believed that the only way to save our lives was for us to confess to being the individuals the afflicted claimed we were. Out of concern and compassion, they persuaded us to admit to what we did confess. In truth, the confession attributed to us was merely what some gentlemen suggested, telling us we were witches, and that they knew it to be true, which led us to believe it too. With our minds, reasoning, and faculties nearly gone, we couldn’t assess our situation. Additionally, the harsh treatment they applied made it impossible for us to defend ourselves, so we said anything and everything they asked. Most of what we said was effectively just agreeing with them. Some time later, once we were calmer, and they reminded us of what we had confessed, we insisted that we were innocent and knew nothing about such matters. Upon hearing that Samuel Wardwell had recanted his confession and was soon after condemned and executed, some of us were warned that we were headed in the same direction as Wardwell.

"Mary Osgood.
Mary Tyler.
Deliverance Dane.
Abigail Barker.
Sarah Wilson.
Hannah Tyler."

"Mary Osgood.
Mary Tyler Moore.
Deliverance Dane.
Abby Barker.
Sarah Wilson.
Hannah Tyler."

The means employed, and the influences brought to bear upon persons accused, were, in many cases, such as wholly to overpower them, and to relieve their confessions, to a great extent, of a criminal character. They were scarcely responsible moral agents. In the month of October, Increase Mather came to Salem, to confer with the confessing witches in prison. The result of his examinations is preserved in a document of which he is supposed to have been the author. The following extracts afford some explanation of the whole subject:—

The methods used and the pressure applied to the accused often completely overwhelmed them, making their confessions largely free of any criminal intent. They were hardly responsible moral agents. In October, Increase Mather came to Salem to meet with the confessing witches in prison. The findings from his investigations are recorded in a document that he is believed to have written. The following excerpts provide some clarity on the entire topic:—

"Goodwife Tyler did say, that, when she was first apprehended, she had no fears upon her, and did think that nothing could have made her confess against herself. But since, she had found, to her great grief, that she had wronged the truth, and falsely accused herself. She said that, when she was brought to Salem, her brother Bridges rode with her; and that, all along the way from Andover to Salem,[ii.405] her brother kept telling her that she must needs be a witch, since the afflicted accused her, and at her touch were raised out of their fits, and urging her to confess herself a witch. She as constantly told him that she was no witch, that she knew nothing of witchcraft, and begged him not to urge her to confess. However, when she came to Salem, she was carried to a room, where her brother on one side, and Mr. John Emerson on the other side, did tell her that she was certainly a witch, and that she saw the Devil before her eyes at that time (and, accordingly, the said Emerson would attempt with his hand to beat him away from her eyes); and they so urged her to confess, that she wished herself in any dungeon, rather than be so treated. Mr. Emerson told her, once and again, 'Well, I see you will not confess! Well, I will now leave you; and then you are undone, body and soul, for ever.' Her brother urged her to confess, and told her that, in so doing, she could not lie: to which she answered, 'Good brother, do not say so; for I shall lie if I confess, and then who shall answer unto God for my lie?' He still asserted it, and said that God would not suffer so many good men to be in such an error about it, and that she would be hanged if she did not confess; and continued so long and so violently to urge and press her to confess, that she thought, verily, that her life would have gone from her, and became so terrified in her mind that she owned, at length, almost any thing that they propounded to her; that she had wronged her conscience in so doing; she was guilty of a great sin in belying of herself, and desired to mourn for it so long as she lived. This she said, and a great deal more of the like nature; and all with such affection, sorrow, relenting, grief, and mourning, as that it exceeds any pen to describe and express the same."[ii.406]

"Goodwife Tyler said that when she was first taken into custody, she felt no fear and believed that nothing could make her confess to anything against herself. But since then, she had come to realize, to her great sorrow, that she had denied the truth and falsely accused herself. She mentioned that when she was brought to Salem, her brother Bridges rode with her and all along the way from Andover to Salem,[ii.405] he kept telling her that she must be a witch since the afflicted accused her, and they seemed to recover from their fits at her touch, urging her to admit that she was a witch. She repeatedly told him that she was not a witch, that she knew nothing about witchcraft, and begged him not to push her to confess. However, when she arrived in Salem, she was taken to a room where her brother on one side and Mr. John Emerson on the other insisted that she was definitely a witch and that she could see the Devil right before her (and, in fact, Mr. Emerson would try to brush him away from her eyes); they pressured her to confess so much that she wished she were in any dungeon rather than endure such treatment. Mr. Emerson told her repeatedly, 'Well, I see you won’t confess! Then I will leave you; and you will be lost, body and soul, forever.' Her brother pushed her to confess and insisted she couldn’t lie by doing so; she replied, ‘Good brother, don’t say that; if I confess, I will lie, and who will answer to God for my lie?’ He continued to insist, claiming that God wouldn’t let so many good people be mistaken about this, and that she would be hanged if she didn’t confess. He pressed her so long and so forcefully to confess that she truly believed her life was at risk and became so terrified that she eventually admitted to almost anything they proposed; she felt she had betrayed her conscience by doing so, recognized it as a great sin to lie about herself, and wished to mourn for it for as long as she lived. She said this and much more along the same lines, all delivered with such feeling, sorrow, remorse, grief, and mourning that it goes beyond any words to describe and express it."[ii.406]

"Goodwife Wilson said that she was in the dark as to some things in her confession. Yet she asserted that, knowingly, she never had familiarity with the Devil; that, knowingly, she never consented to the afflicting of any person, &c. However, she said that truly she was in the dark as to the matter of her being a witch. And being asked how she was in the dark, she replied, that the afflicted persons crying out of her as afflicting them made her fearful of herself; and that was all that made her say that she was in the dark."

Goodwife Wilson said she was confused about some things in her confession. Still, she claimed that she never intentionally had any contact with the Devil; that she never agreed to harm anyone, etc. However, she admitted that she genuinely did not understand whether she was a witch. When asked how she was confused, she replied that the afflicted people accusing her of harming them made her fearful of herself; and that was the only reason she said she was confused.

"Goodwife Bridges said that she had confessed against herself things which were all utterly false; and that she was brought to her confession by being told that she certainly was a witch, and so made to believe it,—though she had no other grounds so to believe."

"Goodwife Bridges said that she had confessed to things that were completely untrue; and that she was led to confess by being told that she was definitely a witch, which made her believe it—even though she had no real reason to believe it."

Some explanation of the details which those, prevailed upon to confess, put into their testimony, and which seemed, at the time, to establish and demonstrate the truth of their statements, is afforded by what Mary Osgood is reported, by Increase Mather, to have said to him on this occasion:—

Some details about what those who were persuaded to confess included in their testimonies, and that seemed, at the time, to confirm the truth of their statements, can be understood through what Mary Osgood reportedly told Increase Mather on this occasion:—

"Being asked why she prefixed a time, and spake of her being baptized, &c., about twelve years since, she replied and said, that, when she had owned the thing, they asked the time, to which she answered that she knew not the time. But, being told that she did know the time, and must tell the time, and the like, she considered that about twelve years before (when she had her last child) she had a fit of sickness, and was melancholy; and so thought that that time might be as proper a time to mention as any, and accordingly did prefix the said time. Being asked about[ii.407] the cat, in the shape of which she had confessed that the Devil had appeared to her, &c., she replied, that, being told that the Devil had appeared to her, and must needs appear to her, &c. (she being a witch), she at length did own that the Devil had appeared to her; and, being pressed to say in what creature's shape he appeared, she at length did say that it was in the shape of a cat. Remembering that, some time before her being apprehended, as she went out at her door, she saw a cat, &c.; not as though she any whit suspected the said cat to be the Devil, in the day of it, but because some creature she must mention, and this came into her mind at that time."

"When asked why she mentioned a specific time and talked about being baptized around twelve years ago, she replied that after admitting to it, they questioned her about the timing, and she said she didn’t know. However, when they insisted that she did know and needed to provide an answer, she recalled that about twelve years before, when she had her last child, she had been sick and felt down. So, she thought that time might be as good as any to mention, and she went ahead and stated it. When asked about[ii.407] the cat, which she had admitted was the form the Devil appeared to her in, she responded that after being told the Devil had to appear to her since she was a witch, she eventually acknowledged that he had shown up. When pressed to specify what form he took, she finally said it was in the shape of a cat. She remembered that before she was captured, she had seen a cat as she was leaving her house; not because she suspected the cat was the Devil at that moment, but because she needed to mention a creature, and that was what came to her mind."

This poor woman, as well as several others, besides Goodwife Tyler, who denied and renounced their confessions, manifested, as Dr. Mather affirms, the utmost horror and anguish at the thought that they could have been so wicked as to have belied themselves, and brought injury upon others by so doing. They "bewailed and lamented their accusing of others, about whom they never knew any evil" in their lives. They proved the sincerity of their repentance by abandoning and denouncing their confessions, and thus offering their lives as a sacrifice to atone for their falsehood. They were then awaiting their trial; and there seemed no escape from the awful fate which had befallen all persons brought to trial before, and who had not confessed or had withdrawn their confession. Fortunately for them, the Court did not meet again in 1692; and they were acquitted at the regular session, in the January following.[ii.408]

This poor woman and several others, along with Goodwife Tyler, who denied and renounced their confessions, showed, as Dr. Mather states, extreme horror and anguish at the idea that they could have been so wicked as to have lied about themselves and harmed others by doing so. They "wailed and lamented their accusations of others, who they never knew had done any wrong" in their lives. They proved their genuine repentance by rejecting and condemning their confessions, offering their lives as a sacrifice to atone for their lies. They were waiting for their trial, and it seemed there was no way to escape the terrible fate that had come to everyone previously tried who had not confessed or who had withdrawn their confession. Fortunately for them, the Court did not meet again in 1692, and they were acquitted at the regular session in January following.[ii.408]

In one of Calef's tracts, he sums up his views, on the subject of the confessions, as follows:—

In one of Calef's writings, he summarizes his thoughts on the confessions like this:—

"Besides the powerful argument of life (and freedom from hardships, not only promised, but also performed to all that owned their guilt), there are numerous instances of the tedious examinations before private persons, many hours together; they all that time urging them to confess (and taking turns to persuade them), till the accused were wearied out by being forced to stand so long, or for want of sleep, &c., and so brought to give assent to what they said; they asking them, 'Were you at such a witch meeting?' or, 'Have you signed the Devil's book?' &c. Upon their replying 'Yes,' the whole was drawn into form, as their confession."

"Besides the strong argument for life (and freedom from hardships, not just promised but actually delivered to everyone who accepted their guilt), there are many examples of the exhausting interrogations in front of private individuals that lasted for hours. They took turns trying to get the accused to confess, wearing them down until they were too tired to stand or lacking sleep, etc., leading them to agree with what was said. They would ask, 'Were you at that witch meeting?' or, 'Have you signed the Devil's book?' etc. When the accused said 'Yes,' it was all turned into a formal confession."

This accounts for the similarity of construction and substance of the confessions generally.

This explains why the confessions are usually similar in their structure and content.

Calef remarks:—

Calef says:—

"But that which did mightily further such confessions was their nearest relations urging them to it. These, seeing no other way of escape for them, thought it the best advice that could be given; hence it was, that the husbands of some, by counsel, often urging, and utmost earnestness, and children upon their knees intreating, have at length prevailed with them to say they were guilty."

"But what really pushed them to confess were their closest relatives encouraging them to do so. Seeing no other way out for them, these relatives thought it was the best advice they could offer; that's why some husbands, through constant urging and deep sincerity, along with children begging on their knees, eventually managed to get them to admit they were guilty."

One of the most painful things in the whole affair was, that the absolute conviction of the guilt of the persons accused, pervading the community, took full effect upon the minds of many relatives and friends. They did not consider it as a matter of the least possible doubt. They therefore looked upon it as wicked[ii.409] obstinacy not to confess, and, in this sense, an additional and most conclusive evidence of a mind alienated from truth and wholly given over to Satan. This turned natural love and previous friendships into resentment, indignation, and abhorrence, which left the unhappy prisoners in a condition where only the most wonderful clearness of conviction and strength of character could hold them up. And, in many cases where they yielded, it was not from unworthy fear, or for self-preservation, but because their judgment was overthrown, and their minds in complete subjection and prostration.

One of the most painful aspects of the whole situation was that the community's absolute belief in the guilt of the accused deeply influenced many relatives and friends. They didn’t see it as a matter of any doubt. Instead, they regarded it as sheer wickedness[ii.409] to not confess, which they interpreted as additional and strong proof of a mind turned away from the truth and fully given over to evil. This transformed natural love and previous friendships into resentment, anger, and disgust, leaving the unfortunate prisoners in a state where only extreme clarity of conviction and strength of character could support them. In many cases where they gave in, it wasn't out of cowardice or self-preservation, but because their judgment was shattered and their minds completely subjugated and defeated.

There can, indeed, hardly be a doubt, that, in some instances, the confessing persons really believed themselves guilty. To explain this, we must look into the secret chambers of the human soul; we must read the history of the imagination, and consider its power over the understanding. We must transport ourselves to the dungeon, and think of its dark and awful walls, its dreary hours, its tedious loneliness, its heavy and benumbing fetters and chains, its scanty fare, and all its dismal and painful circumstances. We must reflect upon their influence over a terrified and agitated, an injured and broken spirit. We must think of the situation of the poor prisoner, cut off from hope; hearing from all quarters, and at all times, morning, noon, and night, that there is no doubt of his guilt; surrounded and overwhelmed by accusations and evidence, gradually but insensibly mingling and confounding the visions and vagaries of his troubled[ii.410] dreams with the reveries of his waking hours, until his reason becomes obscured, his recollections are thrown into derangement, his mind loses the power of distinguishing between what is perpetually told him by others and what belongs to the suggestions of his own memory: his imagination at last gains complete ascendency over his other faculties, and he believes and declares himself guilty of crimes of which he is as innocent as the child unborn. The history of the transaction we have been considering, affords a clear illustration of the truth and reasonableness of this explanation.

There can be little doubt that, in some cases, the people confessing really believed they were guilty. To understand this, we need to look deep into the human soul; we must explore the history of imagination and its influence over understanding. We must put ourselves in the dungeon and think about its dark, terrifying walls, the long hours, the lonely solitude, the heavy and numbing shackles, the meager food, and all the grim and painful conditions. We need to reflect on how these factors impact a terrified, agitated, injured, and broken spirit. We should consider the plight of the poor prisoner who is stripped of hope, hearing at every turn, morning, noon, and night, that there is no doubt about his guilt; surrounded and overwhelmed by accusations and evidence, slowly but surely blending and confusing the visions and fantasies of his troubled dreams with the daydreams of his waking hours, until his reason becomes clouded, his memories are thrown into disarray, and his mind loses the ability to distinguish between what others constantly tell him and what comes from his own memory: eventually, his imagination takes complete control over his other faculties, and he believes and claims he is guilty of crimes of which he is as innocent as an unborn child. The history of the events we’ve been discussing clearly illustrates the truth and reasonableness of this explanation.

The facility with which persons can be persuaded, by perpetually assailing them with accusations of the truth of a charge, in reality not true, even when it is made against themselves, has been frequently noticed. Addison, in one of the numbers of his "Spectator," speaks of it in connection with our present subject: "When an old woman," says he, "begins to dote, and grow chargeable to a parish, she is generally turned into a witch, and fills the whole country with extravagant fancies, imaginary distempers, and terrifying dreams. In the mean time, the poor wretch that is the innocent occasion of so many evils begins to be frighted at herself, and sometimes confesses secret commerces and familiarities that her imagination forms in a delirious old age. This frequently cuts off charity from the greatest objects of compassion, and inspires people with a malevolence towards those poor, decrepit parts of our species[ii.411] in whom human nature is defaced by infirmity and dotage."

The ease with which people can be convinced by constantly hitting them with accusations about a claim—one that isn’t true, even when it’s directed at them—has often been noted. Addison, in one of his "Spectator" pieces, mentions this in relation to our current topic: "When an old woman starts to lose her mind and becomes a burden to a community, she’s typically labeled a witch, causing the whole area to be filled with wild ideas, fake illnesses, and scary nightmares. Meanwhile, the unfortunate person, who is the innocent cause of so many troubles, begins to be frightened of herself and sometimes confesses to imaginary interactions and relationships that her mind creates in her delirious old age. This often cuts off kindness from the greatest objects of compassion and fills people with resentment towards those poor, aging members of our species[ii.411] in whom human nature is damaged by frailty and old age."

This passage is important, in addition to the bearing it has upon the point we have been considering, as describing the state of opinion and feeling in England twenty years after the folly had been exploded here. In another number of the same series of essays, he bears evidence, that the superstitions which here came to a head in 1692 had long been prevalent in the mother-country: "Our forefathers looked upon nature with more reverence and horror before the world was enlightened by learning and philosophy, and loved to astonish themselves with the apprehensions of witchcraft, prodigies, charms, and enchantments. There was not a village in England that had not a ghost in it; the churchyards were all haunted; every large common had a circle of fairies belonging to it; and there was scarce a shepherd to be met with who had not seen a spirit." These fancies still linger in the minds of some in the Old World and in the New.

This passage is significant, not only because of its relevance to the topic we've been discussing but also because it reflects the opinions and feelings in England twenty years after the foolishness was debunked here. In another part of the same series of essays, he shows that the superstitions that peaked here in 1692 had been common in the mother country for a long time: "Our ancestors viewed nature with more awe and fear before the world was enlightened by knowledge and philosophy, and they enjoyed startling themselves with the fears of witchcraft, wonders, charms, and magic. There wasn’t a village in England without a ghost; the churchyards were all spooky; every large common had its circle of fairies; and there was hardly a shepherd who hadn’t seen a spirit." These beliefs still persist in the minds of some in both the Old World and the New.

After allowing for the utmost extent of prevalent superstitions, the exaggerations incident to a state of general excitement, and the fertile inventive faculties of the accusing girls, there is much in the evidence that cannot easily be accounted for. In other cases than that of Westgate, we find the symptoms of that bewildered condition of the senses and imagination not at all surprising or unusual in the experience of men staggering home in midnight hours from tavern haunts. Disturbed dreams were, it is[ii.412] not improbable, a fruitful source of delusion. A large part of the evidence is susceptible of explanation by the supposition, that the witnesses had confounded the visions of their sleeping, with the actual observations and occurrences of their waking hours. At the trial of Susanna Martin, it was in evidence, that one John Kembal had agreed to purchase a puppy from the prisoner, but had afterwards fallen back from his bargain, and procured a puppy from some other person, and that Martin was heard to say, "If I live, I will give him puppies enough." The circumstances seem to me to render it probable, that the following piece of evidence given by Kembal, and to which the Court attached great weight, was the result of a nightmare occasioned by his apprehension and dread of the fulfilment of the reported threat:—

After considering the extreme beliefs prevalent at the time, the exaggerations that come with widespread excitement, and the imaginative tendencies of the accusing girls, there is a lot in the evidence that’s hard to explain. In situations beyond Westgate, the state of confusion and imagination isn’t surprising or unusual for men staggering home late from bars. Disturbed dreams were likely a significant source of deception. A substantial amount of the evidence can be understood by suggesting that the witnesses mixed up their dreams with what they actually saw and experienced while awake. During the trial of Susanna Martin, it was shown that John Kembal had agreed to buy a puppy from the accused but then backed out of the deal and got a puppy from someone else. Martin was heard to say, "If I live, I will give him puppies enough." These circumstances make it likely that the evidence provided by Kembal, which the Court valued highly, stemmed from a nightmare fueled by his fear and anxiety about the threat he heard.

"I, this deponent, coming from his intended house in the woods to Edmund Elliot's house where I dwelt, about the sunset or presently after; and there did arise a little black cloud in the north-west, and a few drops of rain, and the wind blew pretty hard. In going between the house of John Weed and the meeting-house, this deponent came by several stumps of trees by the wayside; and he by impulse he can give no reason of, that made him tumble over the stumps one after another, though he had his axe upon his shoulder which put him in much danger, and made him resolved to avoid the next, but could not.

I, the person giving this testimony, was coming from the house I was planning to build in the woods to Edmund Elliot's house where I lived, around sunset or just after. As I was walking, a small black cloud appeared in the northwest, and a few drops of rain fell, with a strong wind blowing. While I was walking between John Weed's house and the meeting house, I passed several tree stumps by the side of the road; for some reason I can't explain, I kept tripping over the stumps one after another, even though I had my axe on my shoulder, which was quite dangerous and made me determined to avoid the next stump, but I couldn't.

"And, when he came a little below the meeting-house, there did appear a little thing like a puppy, of a darkish color. It shot between my legs forward and backward, as[ii.413] one that were dancing the hay.[G] And this deponent, being free from all fear, used all possible endeavors to cut it with his axe, but could not hurt it; and, as he was thus laboring with his axe, the puppy gave a little jump from him, and seemed to go into the ground.

"And when he walked a bit past the meeting house, he saw a small creature that looked like a dark-colored puppy. It dashed between his legs back and forth, like someone dancing in hay. This person, feeling completely fearless, tried everything he could to hit it with his axe but couldn’t manage to hurt it. While he was swinging his axe, the puppy jumped away from him and seemed to disappear into the ground."

"In a little further going, there did appear a black puppy, somewhat bigger than the first, but as black as a coal to his apprehension, which came against him with such violence as its quick motions did exceed his motions of his axe, do what he could. And it flew at his belly, and away, and then at his throat and over his shoulder one way, and go off, and up at it again another way; and with such quickness, speed, and violence did it assault him, as if it would tear out his throat or his belly. A good while, he was without fear; but, at last, I felt my heart to fail and sink under it, that I thought my life was going out. And I recovered myself, and gave a start up, and ran to the fence, and calling upon God and naming the name Jesus Christ, and then it invisibly away. My meaning is, it ceased at once; but this deponent made it not known to anybody, for fretting his wife."[H]

"In a little while later, a black puppy showed up, a bit bigger than the first one but as black as coal in his view. It charged at him with such force that it outpaced his swings with the axe, no matter how hard he tried. It lunged at his belly, darted away, then aimed for his throat and leaped over his shoulder, coming at him from different angles. It attacked him with such speed and aggression that it felt like it wanted to rip out his throat or belly. For a while, he felt no fear; but eventually, my heart started to sink, and I thought I was going to faint. I pulled myself together, jumped up, and ran to the fence, calling out to God and invoking the name of Jesus Christ, and then it vanished. What I mean is, it stopped right away; but this witness didn’t tell anyone, because it upset his wife." [H]

We are all exposed to the danger of confounding the impressions left by the imagination, when, set free from all confinement, it runs wild in dreams, with the actual experiences of wakeful faculties in real life. It is a topic worthy the consideration of writers on evidence, and of legal tribunals. So also is the effect, upon the personal consciousness, of the continued[ii.415] repetition of the same story, or of hearing it repeated by others. Instances are given in books,—perhaps can be recalled by our own individual experience or observation,—in which what was originally a delibe[ii.416]rate fabrication of falsehood or of fancy has come, at last, to be regarded as a veritable truth and a real occurrence.

We all face the risk of mixing up the impressions created by our imagination when it breaks free and runs wild in dreams, with the actual experiences we have when we're awake. This is an important topic for those who write about evidence and for legal courts. The impact of repeatedly hearing the same story, or hearing it told by others, on personal awareness is also significant. There are examples in books—some we might remember from our own experiences or observations—where something that was initially a conscious lie or a fantasy eventually comes to be seen as genuine truth and a real event.

A thorough and philosophical treatise on the subject of evidence is, in view of these considerations, much needed. The liability all men are under to confound the fictions of their imaginations with the realities of actual observation is not understood with sufficient clearness by the community; and, so long as it is not understood and regarded, serious mistakes and inconveniences will be apt to occur in seasons of general excitement. We are still disposed to attribute more importance than we ought to strong convictions, without stopping to inquire whether they may not be in reality delusions of the understanding. The cause of truth demands a more thorough examination of this whole subject. The visions that appeared before the mind of the celebrated Colonel Gardiner are still regarded by the generality of pious people as evidence of miraculous interposition, while, just so far as they are evidence to that point, so far is the authority of Christianity overthrown; for it is a fact, that Lord Herbert of Cherbury believed with equal sincerity and confidence that he had been vouchsafed a similar vision sanctioning his labors, when about to publish what has been pronounced one of the most powerful attacks ever made upon our religion. It is dangerous to advance arguments in favor of any cause which may be founded upon nothing better than the reveries of an ardent imagination![ii.417]

A comprehensive and thoughtful discussion about the topic of evidence is, considering these points, greatly needed. People often confuse the creations of their imaginations with the realities of actual observation, and this misunderstanding is not clear enough in society. As long as this is not recognized, serious errors and issues are likely to arise during times of widespread excitement. We tend to give more weight to strong beliefs than we should, without questioning whether they might actually be misconceptions. The pursuit of truth requires a more in-depth examination of this whole issue. The visions experienced by the well-known Colonel Gardiner are still seen by many devout individuals as proof of miraculous intervention, but to the extent that these visions serve as evidence, they undermine the authority of Christianity. Lord Herbert of Cherbury believed just as sincerely that he had a similar vision endorsing his work, just before he published what has been called one of the strongest critiques of our religion. It's risky to support any argument based solely on nothing more than the flights of a passionate imagination![ii.417]

The phenomena of dreams, of the exercises and convictions which occupy the mind, while the avenues of the senses are closed, and the soul is more or less extricated from its connection with the body, particularly in the peculiar conditions of partial slumber, are among the deep mysteries of human experience. The writers on mental philosophy have not given them the attention they deserve.

The phenomena of dreams, along with the thoughts and beliefs that fill our minds when our senses are shut off and our souls are somewhat detached from our bodies, especially in the unique state of partial sleep, are some of the profound mysteries of human experience. Those who write about mental philosophy haven’t given these topics the focus they deserve.

The testimony in these trials is particularly valuable as showing the power of the imagination to completely deceive and utterly falsify the senses of sober persons, when wide awake and in broad daylight. The following deposition was given in Court under oath. The parties testifying were of unquestionable respectability. The man was probably a brother of James Bayley, the first minister of the Salem Village parish.

The testimony in these trials is especially significant because it demonstrates how much the imagination can completely mislead and completely distort the perceptions of sober individuals, even when they are fully alert and in broad daylight. The following statement was provided in court under oath. The people testifying were of unquestionable integrity. The man was likely a brother of James Bayley, the first minister of the Salem Village parish.

"The Deposition of Joseph Bayley, aged forty-four years.—Testifieth and saith, that, on the twenty-fifth day of May last, myself and my wife being bound to Boston, on the road, when I came in sight of the house where John Procter did live, there was a very hard blow struck on my breast, which caused great pain in my stomach and amazement in my head, but did see no person near me, only my wife behind me on the same horse; and, when I came against said Procter's house, according to my understanding, I did see John Procter and his wife at said house. Procter himself looked out of the window, and his wife did stand just without the door. I told my wife of it; and she did look that way, and could see nothing but a little maid at[ii.418] the door. Afterwards, about half a mile from the aforesaid house, I was taken speechless for some short time. My wife did ask me several questions, and desired me, that, if I could not speak, I should hold up my hand; which I did, and immediately I could speak as well as ever. And, when we came to the way where Salem road cometh into Ipswich road, there I received another blow on my breast, which caused so much pain that I could not sit on my horse. And, when I did alight off my horse, to my understanding, I saw a woman coming towards us about sixteen or twenty pole from us, but did not know who it was: my wife could not see her. When I did get up on my horse again, to my understanding, there stood a cow where I saw the woman. After that, we went to Boston without any further molestation; but, after I came home again to Newbury, I was pinched and nipped by something invisible for some time: but now, through God's goodness to me, I am well again.—Jurat in curia by both persons."

The Testimony of Joseph Bayley, aged forty-four years.—Testifies and says that on May 25th, my wife and I were on our way to Boston. When I saw the house where John Procter lived, I felt a sharp blow to my chest that caused intense pain in my stomach and confusion in my head, but I didn’t see anyone around, just my wife behind me on the same horse. As we approached Procter’s house, I noticed John Procter and his wife there. Procter looked out the window, and his wife was standing just outside the door. I mentioned this to my wife, and she looked in that direction but only saw a young girl at[ii.418] the door. Later, about half a mile from that house, I suddenly became speechless for a brief time. My wife asked me several questions and urged me to raise my hand if I couldn’t speak, which I did, and right away I was able to speak again as clearly as ever. When we reached the point where the Salem road joins the Ipswich road, I felt another blow to my chest that hurt so much I couldn’t sit on my horse. When I got off my horse, I thought I saw a woman coming towards us about sixteen to twenty rods away, but I didn’t recognize her; my wife couldn’t see her. When I got back on my horse, I thought there stood a cow where I saw the woman. After that, we traveled to Boston without any further disturbances; however, after returning home to Newbury, I felt something invisible pinching and nipping at me for a while. But now, by God's grace, I am well again.—Jurat in curia by both persons.

Bayley and his wife were going to Boston on election week. It was a good two days' journey from Newbury, as the roads then were, and riding as they did. According to the custom of the times, she was mounted on a pillion behind him. They had probably passed the night at the house of Sergeant Thomas Putnam, with whom he was connected by marriage. It was at the height of the witchcraft delirium. Thomas Putnam's house was the very focus of it. There they had listened to highly wrought accounts of its wonders and terrors, had witnessed the amazing phenomena exhibited by Ann Putnam and Mercy Lewis, and their minds been filled with images of[ii.419] spectres of living witches, and ghosts of the dead. They had seen with their own eyes the tortures of the girls under cruel diabolical influence, of which they had heard so much, and realized the dread outbreak of Satan and his agents upon the lives and souls of men.

Bayley and his wife were heading to Boston during election week. It was a solid two-day journey from Newbury, given the roads back then and their mode of transportation. As was customary at the time, she rode on a pillion behind him. They likely spent the night at the home of Sergeant Thomas Putnam, who was related to him by marriage. It was the peak of the witchcraft hysteria. Thomas Putnam's house was right at the center of it all. There, they listened to intense stories about its wonders and horrors, witnessed the astonishing events displayed by Ann Putnam and Mercy Lewis, and filled their minds with images of[ii.419] living witches' specters and ghosts of the dead. They had seen for themselves the girls' agonies under cruel, demonic influence, about which they had heard so much, and grasped the terrifying eruption of Satan and his followers upon the lives and souls of people.

They started the next morning on their way through the gloomy woods and over the solitary road. It was known that they were to pass the house of John Procter, believed to be a chief resort of devilish spirits. Oppressed with terror and awe, Bayley was on the watch, his heart in his mouth. The moment he came in sight, his nervous agitation reached its climax; and he experienced the shock he describes. When he came opposite to the house, to his horror there was Procter looking at him from the window, and Procter's wife standing outside of the door. He knew, that, in their proper persons and natural bodies, they were, at that moment, both of them, and had been, for six weeks, in irons, in one of the cells of the jail at Boston. Bayley's wife, from her position on the pillion behind him, had her face directed to the other side of the road. He told her what he saw. She looked round to the house, and could see nothing but a little maid at the door. After one or two more fits of fright, he reached the Lynn road, had escaped from the infernal terrors of the infected region, and his senses resumed their natural functions. It was several days before his nervous agitations ceased. Altogether, this is a remarkable case of hallucination:[ii.420] showing that the wildest fancies brought before the mind in dreams may be paralleled in waking hours; and that mental excitement may, even then, close the avenues of the senses, exclude the perception of reality, and substitute unsubstantial visions in the place of actual and natural objects.

They set out the next morning through the dark woods and along the lonely road. Everyone knew they would pass John Procter's house, rumored to be a hotspot for evil spirits. Overwhelmed with fear and dread, Bayley stayed alert, his heart racing. As soon as he spotted the house, his nervousness hit a peak, and he felt the shock he described. Horrifyingly, when he reached the house, he saw Procter staring at him from the window, with Procter's wife standing outside the door. He knew that, in reality, they were both locked in a Boston jail for six weeks. Bayley's wife, sitting behind him, had her gaze directed away from the house. He told her what he saw, but when she looked, she only saw a little girl at the door. After a few more moments of panic, he finally reached the Lynn road, escaping the horrifying terrors of that cursed area, and gradually his senses began to return to normal. It took several days for his nervous tension to fade. Overall, this is a significant case of hallucination:[ii.420] demonstrating that the most absurd thoughts experienced in dreams can also occur while awake, and that mental stress can close off the senses, blocking out reality and replacing it with mere illusions instead of real and tangible things.

There may be an interest in some minds to know who the "little maid at the door" was. The elder children of John Procter were either married off, or lived on his farm at Ipswich, with the exception of Benjamin, his oldest son, who remained with his father on the Salem farm. Benjamin had been imprisoned two days before Bayley passed the house. Four days before, Sarah, sixteen years of age, had also been arrested, and committed to jail. This left only William, eighteen years of age, who, three days after, was himself put into prison; Samuel, seven; Abigail, between three and four years of age; and one still younger. No female of the family was then at the house older than Abigail. This poor deserted child was "the little maid." Curiosity to see the passing strangers, or possibly the hope that they might be her father and mother, or her brother and sister, brought her to the door.

There might be some people curious about who the "little maid at the door" was. John Procter's older children were either married or living on his farm in Ipswich, except for Benjamin, his oldest son, who stayed with his father on the Salem farm. Benjamin had been jailed two days before Bayley passed by the house. Four days earlier, Sarah, who was sixteen, had also been arrested and sent to jail. This left only William, who was eighteen and was put in prison three days later; Samuel, who was seven; Abigail, who was between three and four years old; and one even younger. No female family member older than Abigail was then at the house. This poor abandoned child was "the little maid." Her curiosity about the strangers passing by, or perhaps the hope that they might be her father and mother, or her brother and sister, drew her to the door.

In the terrible consequences that resulted from the mischievous, and perhaps at the outset merely sportive, proceedings of the children in Mr. Parris's family, we have a striking illustration of the principle, that no one can foretell, with respect either to himself or others, the extent of the suffering and injury that may[ii.421] be occasioned by the least departure from truth, or from the practice of deception. In the horrible succession of crimes through which those young persons were led to pass, in the depth of depravity to which they were thrown, we discern the fate that endangers all who enter upon a career of wickedness.

In the severe outcomes that arose from the playful, and maybe initially just fun, actions of the children in Mr. Parris's family, we have a clear example of the idea that no one can predict, for themselves or others, the level of pain and harm that can arise from even the smallest deviation from the truth or from being dishonest. In the horrific series of crimes that those young people were pushed into, and in the depths of immorality they fell into, we see the danger that faces anyone who chooses a path of wrongdoing.

No one can have an adequate knowledge of the human mind, who has not contemplated its developments in scenes like those that have now been related. It may be said of the frame of our spiritual, even with more emphasis than of our corporeal nature, that we are fearfully and wonderfully made. In the maturity of his bodily and mental organization, health gliding through his veins, strength and symmetry clothing his form, intelligence beaming from his countenance, and immortality stamped on his brow, man is indeed the noblest work of God. In the degradation and corruption to which he can descend, he is the most odious and loathsome object in the creation. The human mind, when all its faculties are fully developed and in proper proportions, reason seated on its rightful throne and shedding abroad its light, memory embracing the past, hope smiling upon the future, faith leaning on Heaven, and the affections diffusing through all their gentle warmth, is worthy of its source, deserves its original title of "image of God," and is greater and better than the whole material universe. It is nobler than all the works of God; for it is an emanation, a part of God himself, "a ray from the fountain of light." But where, I[ii.422] ask, can you find a more deplorable and miserable object than the mind in ruins, tossed by its own rebellious principles, and distorted by the monstrously unequal development of its faculties? You will look in vain upon the earthquake, the volcano, or the hurricane, for those elements of the awful and terrible which are manifested in a community of men whose passions have trampled upon their principles, whose imaginations have overthrown the government of reason, and who are swept along by the torrent until all order and security are swallowed up and lost. Such a spectacle we have now been witnessing. We have seen the whole population of this place and vicinity yielding to the sway of their credulous fancies, allowing their passions to be worked up to a tremendous pitch of excitement, and rushing into excesses of folly and violence that have left a stain on their memory, and will awaken a sense of shame, pity, and amazement in the minds of their latest posterity.

No one can truly understand the human mind without reflecting on its development in situations like those just described. It's often said that our spiritual being, even more than our physical nature, shows how intricately and wonderfully we are made. In the prime of his physical and mental state, with good health flowing through his veins, strong and balanced in his form, intelligence shining from his face, and immortality evident on his forehead, man is indeed the greatest creation of God. In the depths of degradation and corruption to which he can fall, he becomes the most disgusting and revolting being in existence. The human mind, when all its abilities are fully developed and in balance, with reason in its rightful place spreading its light, memory recalling the past, hope looking toward the future, faith relying on Heaven, and emotions flowing warmly, is worthy of its origin, deserving its original title of "image of God," and surpasses the entire material universe. It is greater than all of God's works; for it is a reflection, a part of God himself, "a ray from the fountain of light." But where, I ask, can you find a more tragic and wretched sight than a mind in ruins, tossed by its own rebellious instincts, and twisted by the wildly unequal development of its abilities? You will not find the elements of awe and terror in earthquakes, volcanoes, or hurricanes that are present in a community of people whose passions have overpowered their principles, whose imaginations have overtaken reason, and who are swept away by the flood until all order and safety are lost. This is the kind of spectacle we have just witnessed. We have seen the entire population of this place and its surroundings succumbing to their gullible fantasies, letting their emotions escalate to a shocking level, and plunging into acts of folly and violence that have left a mark on their memory and will evoke feelings of shame, pity, and astonishment in their future descendants.

There is nothing more mysterious than the self-deluding power of the mind, and there never were scenes in which it was more clearly displayed than the witchcraft prosecutions. Honest men testified, with perfect confidence and sincerity, to the most absurd impossibilities; while those who thought themselves victims of diabolical influence would actually exhibit, in their corporeal frames, all the appropriate symptoms of the sufferings their imaginations had brought upon them. Great ignorance prevailed in reference to the influences of the body and the mind[ii.423] upon each other. While the imagination was called into a more extensive and energetic action than at any succeeding or previous period, its properties and laws were but little understood: the extent of the connection of the will and the muscular system, the reciprocal influence of the nerves and the fancy, and the strong and universally pervading sympathy between our physical and moral constitutions, were almost wholly unknown. These important subjects, indeed, are but imperfectly understood at the present day.

There’s nothing more mysterious than the self-deceiving power of the mind, and there never were situations where it was more clearly shown than during the witch hunts. Honest people testified, with complete confidence and sincerity, to the most ridiculous impossibilities; meanwhile, those who believed they were victims of evil forces would actually display, in their physical bodies, all the symptoms of the suffering their imaginations had imposed on them. There was widespread ignorance about how the body and mind impacted each other[ii.423]. While the imagination was called into more intense and active use than at any other time, its properties and laws were poorly understood: the extent of the connection between the will and the muscular system, the mutual influence of nerves and the imagination, and the strong and widespread sympathy between our physical and moral selves were nearly completely unknown. These important topics are, indeed, still only partially understood today.

It may perhaps be affirmed, that the relations of the human mind with the spiritual world will never be understood while we continue in the present stage of existence and mode of being. The error of our ancestors—and it is an error into which men have always been prone to fall, and from which our own times are by no means exempt—was in imagining that their knowledge had extended, in this direction, beyond the boundary fixed unalterably to our researches, while in this corporeal life.

It might be said that the connection between the human mind and the spiritual world will never be fully understood as long as we remain in our current state of existence. The mistake of our ancestors—which is a mistake that people have always been likely to make, and our own time is no exception—was believing that their understanding had gone beyond the limits that are set, unchangeable, on our inquiries while we are in this physical life.

It admits of much question, whether human science can ever find a solid foundation in what relates to the world of spirits. The only instrument of knowledge we can here employ is language. Careful thinkers long ago came to the conclusion, that it is impossible to frame a language precisely and exclusively adapted to convey abstract and spiritual ideas, even if it is possible, as some philosophers have denied, for the mind, in its present state, to have such ideas. All[ii.424] attempts to construct such a language, though made by the most ingenious men, have failed. Language is based upon imagery, and associations drawn from so much of the world as the senses disclose to us; that is, from material objects and their relations. We are here confined, as it were, within narrow walls. We can catch only glimpses of what is above and around us, outside of those walls. Such glimpses may be vouchsafed, from time to time, to rescue us from sinking into materialism, and to keep alive our faith in scenes of existence remaining to be revealed when the barriers of our imprisonment shall be taken down, and what we call death lift us to a clearer and broader vision of universal being.

It's very debatable whether human knowledge can ever truly find a solid foundation regarding the world of spirits. The only tool we have for understanding this is language. Thoughtful thinkers figured out long ago that it's impossible to create a language perfectly suited to express abstract and spiritual ideas, even if some philosophers argue that our minds can't grasp such concepts in their current state. Every attempt to build such a language, no matter how clever the people behind it, has failed. Language relies on imagery and associations drawn from what our senses reveal to us—the material world and its connections. We're basically trapped within narrow walls. We can only catch fleeting glimpses of what lies beyond and around us, outside those walls. Occasionally, these glimpses may be offered to us to prevent us from sinking into materialism and to sustain our belief in realms of existence that will be unveiled when the barriers of our confinement are removed and what we call death brings us into a clearer and broader understanding of universal existence.

Of the reality of the spiritual world, we are assured by consciousness and by faith; but our knowledge of that world, so far as it can go into particulars, or become the subject of definition or expression, extends no further than revelation opens the way. In all ages, men have been awakened to the "wonders of the invisible world;" but they remain "wonders" still. Nothing like a permanent, stable, or distinct science has ever been achieved in this department. Man and God are all that are placed within our ken. Metaphysics and Theology are the names given to the sciences that relate to them. The greater the number of books written by human learning and ingenuity to expound them, the more advanced the intelligence and piety of mankind, the less, it is confessed, do we know of them in detail, the more they rise above our comprehension,[ii.425] the more unfathomable become their depths. Experience, history, the progress of light, all increase our sense of the impossibility of estimating the capacities of the human soul. So also we find that the higher we rise towards the Deity, in the contemplation of his works and word, the more does he continue to transcend our power to describe or imagine his greatness and glory. The revelation which the Saviour brought to mankind is all that the heart of man need desire, or the mind of man can comprehend. We are God's children, and he is our Father. That is all; and, the wiser and better we become, the more we are convinced and satisfied that it is enough.

We know that the spiritual world exists because of our consciousness and faith, but our understanding of that world, to the extent that we can specify or express it, only goes as far as revelation allows. Throughout history, people have been stirred by the "wonders of the unseen world," but they still remain "wonders." No lasting, stable, or clear science has ever been developed in this area. The only things within our grasp are humanity and God. Metaphysics and Theology describe the fields related to them. Interestingly, the more books that are written by human intellect and creativity to explain these subjects, and the more human intelligence and spirituality evolve, the less we actually know about the specifics. They seem to drift beyond our understanding, and their depths become more mysterious. Our experiences, history, and the spread of enlightenment only heighten our awareness of how impossible it is to fully grasp the capabilities of the human soul. Likewise, as we move closer to God through contemplating his works and words, he continues to surpass our ability to express or even imagine his greatness and glory. The revelation that the Savior brought to humanity is everything our hearts desire and our minds can handle. We are God's children, and he is our Father. That's all, and as we grow in wisdom and goodness, we become more convinced and content that this is sufficient.

There are, undoubtedly, innumerable beings in the world of spirits, besides departed souls, the Redeemer, and the Father. But of such beings we have, while here, no absolute and specific knowledge. In every age, as well as in our own, there have been persons who have believed themselves to hold communication with unseen spirits. The methods of entering into such communication have been infinitely diversified, from the incantations of ancient sorcery to the mediums and rappings of the present day. In former periods, particularly where the belief of witchcraft prevailed, it was thought that such communications could be had only with evil spirits, and, mostly, with the Chief of evil spirits. They were accordingly treated as criminal, and made the subject of the severest penalties known to the law. In our day, no such penalties are attached to the practice of seeking spiritual com[ii.426]munications. Those who have a fancy for such experiments are allowed to amuse themselves in this way without reproach or molestation. It is not charged upon them that they are dealing with the Evil One or any of his subordinates. They do not imagine such a thing themselves. I have no disposition, at any time, in any given case, to dispute the reality of the wonderful stories told in reference to such matters. All that I am prompted ever to remark is, that, if spirits do come, as is believed, at the call of those who seek to put themselves into communication with them, there is no evidence, I venture to suggest, that they are good spirits. I have never heard of their doing much good, substantially, to any one. No important truth has been revealed by them, no discovery been made, no science had its field enlarged; no department of knowledge has been brought into a clearer light; no great interest has been promoted; no movement of human affairs, whether in the action of nations or the transactions of men, has been advanced or in any way facilitated; no impulse has been given to society, and no elevation to life and character. It may be that the air is full of spiritual beings, hovering about us; but all experience shows that no benefit can be derived from seeking their intervention to share with us the duties or the burdens of our present probation. The mischiefs which have flowed from the belief that they can operate upon human affairs, and from attempting to have dealings with them, have been illustrated in the course of our narrative. In this view of the sub[ii.427]ject, no law is needed to prevent real or pretended communication with invisible beings. Enlightened reflection, common sense, natural prudence, would seem to be sufficient to keep men from meddling at all with practices, or countenancing notions, from which all history proclaims that no good has ever come, but incalculable evil flowed.

There are definitely countless beings in the spirit world, besides those who have passed away, the Redeemer, and the Father. However, we don’t have any concrete or specific knowledge about these beings while we're here. Throughout history, including today, there have been people who believed they could communicate with unseen spirits. The ways to connect with these spirits have been incredibly varied, from ancient sorcery spells to modern mediums and their tapping sounds. In earlier times, especially when the fear of witchcraft was strong, it was thought that communication was only possible with evil spirits, mainly with the Chief of evil spirits. Because of this, such practices were treated as criminal and were subject to the harshest penalties under the law. Nowadays, there are no such penalties for seeking spiritual communication. Those interested in these experiments can engage in them without fear of blame or interference. It’s not assumed that they are dealing with the Evil One or his minions, and they don’t believe it themselves. I have no inclination to dispute the incredible stories that people share about these experiences. What I want to point out is that if spirits really do respond to those seeking to communicate with them, there's no evidence, I would suggest, that they are benevolent. I've never heard of them providing real, significant help to anyone. No important truths have been revealed through them, no discoveries made, no fields of science expanded; no area of knowledge has been clarified; no great causes have been advanced; and no movement in human affairs, whether among nations or individuals, has been encouraged or facilitated; no progress has been made in society, and no improvement in life and character. It might be true that the air is filled with spiritual beings surrounding us, but all evidence shows that seeking their help won’t relieve us of our current responsibilities or struggles. The harms resulting from the belief that they can influence human affairs, and from trying to interact with them, have been highlighted in our discussion. From this perspective, no law is necessary to stop genuine or fake communication with invisible beings. Reasoned thought, common sense, and natural caution should be enough to deter people from engaging in practices or supporting ideas that history has shown yield no good, only immense harm.

For the conduct of life, while here in these bodies, we must confine our curiosity to fields of knowledge open to our natural and ordinary faculties, and embraced within the limits of the established condition of things. Our fathers filled their fancies with the visionary images of ghosts, demons, apparitions, and all other supposed forms and shadows of the invisible world; lent their ears to marvellous stories of communications with spirits; gave to supernatural tales of witchcraft and demonology a wondering credence, and allowed them to occupy their conversation, speculations, and reveries. They carried a belief of such things, and a proneness to indulge it, into their daily life, their literature, and the proceedings of tribunals, ecclesiastical and civil. The fearful results shrouded their annals in darkness and shame. Let those results for ever stand conspicuous, beacon-monuments warning us, and coming generations, against superstition in every form, and all credulous and vain attempts to penetrate beyond the legitimate boundaries of human knowledge.

For how we live our lives while we're in these bodies, we need to limit our curiosity to areas of knowledge that our natural abilities can handle and that fit within the established realities of life. Our ancestors filled their imaginations with the fanciful ideas of ghosts, demons, apparitions, and other supposed forms and shadows from the invisible world; they listened to incredible stories about communicating with spirits; they believed in tales of witchcraft and demonology, accepting them with wonder and allowing these topics to fill their conversations, thoughts, and dreams. They carried such beliefs into their daily lives, literature, and the activities of courts, both religious and civil. The terrifying outcomes of this belief cast a shadow over their history, leading to shame. Let those outcomes always stand out as warning signs for us and future generations against superstition in all its forms, and any gullible and foolish attempts to go beyond the rightful limits of human understanding.

The phenomena of the real world, so far as science discloses them to our contemplation; the records of[ii.428] actual history; the lessons of our own experience; the utterances of the voice within, audible only to ourselves; and the teachings of the Divine Word,—are sufficient for the exercise of our faculties and the education of our souls during this brief period of our being, while in these bodies. In God's appointed time, we shall be transferred to a higher level of vision. Then, but not before, we may hope for re-union with disembodied spirits, for intercourse with angels, and for a nearer and more open communion with all divine beings.

The phenomena of the real world, as revealed by science; the records of[ii.428] actual history; the lessons from our own experiences; the inner voice that we can only hear ourselves; and the teachings of the Divine Word—are enough for us to use our abilities and nurture our souls during this short time we have in these bodies. In God's chosen time, we will be moved to a higher level of understanding. Then, but not before, we can hope for reunion with spirits who have passed on, for communication with angels, and for a closer, more direct connection with all divine beings.

The principal difference in the methods by which communications were believed to be made between mortals and spiritual beings, at the time of the witchcraft delusion and now, is this. Then it was chiefly by the medium of the eye, but at present by the ear. The "afflicted children" professed to have seen and conversed with the ghosts of George Burroughs's former wives and of others. They also professed to have seen the shapes or appearances of living persons in a disembodied form, or in the likeness of some animal or creature. Now it is affirmed by those calling themselves Spiritualists, that, by certain rappings or other incantations, they can summon into immediate but invisible presence the spirits of the departed, hold conferences with them, and draw from them information not derivable from any sources of human knowledge. There is no essential distinction between the old and the new belief and practice. The consequences that resulted from the former would be[ii.429] likely to result from the latter, if it should obtain universal or general credence, be allowed to mix with judicial proceedings, or to any extent affect the rights of person, property, or character.

The main difference in how people thought communication happened between humans and spiritual beings during the witchcraft craze and now is this: back then, it was mostly through sight, but today, it's mainly through sound. The "afflicted children" claimed to have seen and talked to the ghosts of George Burroughs's former wives and others. They also said they saw the shapes or appearances of living people in ghostly forms or looking like animals. Now, those who call themselves Spiritualists say that through certain knocks or other rituals, they can call forth the spirits of the deceased, hold conversations with them, and gain knowledge that can’t be obtained from any human sources. There’s no significant difference between the old and new beliefs and practices. The outcomes from the old practices would likely happen again with the new ones if they were widely accepted, mixed into legal proceedings, or in any way affected people's rights, property, or reputation.

The "afflicted children" at Salem Village had, by long practice, become wonderful adepts in the art of jugglery, and probably of ventriloquism. They did many extraordinary things, and were believed to have constant communications with ghosts and spectres; but they did not attain to spiritual rapping. If they had possessed that power, the credulity of judges, ministers, magistrates, and people, would have been utterly overwhelmed, and no limit could have been put to the destruction they might have wrought.

The "afflicted children" at Salem Village had, through extensive practice, become skilled at tricks and probably ventriloquism. They performed many amazing feats and were thought to be in constant contact with ghosts and spirits; however, they didn't achieve the ability to produce spiritual raps. If they had that power, the gullibility of judges, ministers, magistrates, and the public would have been completely overwhelmed, leading to limitless devastation they could have caused.

If there was any thing supernatural in the witchcraft of 1692, if any other than human spirits were concerned at all, one thing is beyond a doubt: they were shockingly wicked spirits, and led those who dealt with them to the utmost delusion, crime, and perdition; and this example teaches all who seek to consult with spirits, through a medium or in any other way, to be very strict to require beforehand the most satisfactory and conclusive evidence of good character before they put themselves into communication with them. Spirits who are said to converse with people, in these modern ages, cannot be considered as having much claim to a good repute. No valuable discovery of truth, no important guidance in human conduct, no useful instruction, has ever been conveyed to mankind through them; and much[ii.430] mischief perhaps may have resulted from confiding in them. It is not wise to place our minds under the influence of any of our fellow-creatures, in the ordinary guise of humanity, unless we know something about them entitling them to our acquaintance; much less so, to take them into our intimacy or confidence. Spirits cannot be put under oath, or their credibility be subjected to tests. Whether they are spirits of truth or falsehood cannot be known; and common caution would seem to dictate an avoidance of their company. The fields of knowledge opened to us in the works of mortal men; the stores of human learning and science; the pages of history, sacred or profane; the records of revelation; and the instructions and conversation of the wise and good of our fellow-creatures, while in the body,—are wide enough for our exploration, and may well occupy the longest lifetime.

If there was anything supernatural in the witchcraft of 1692, if any spirits other than human were involved at all, one thing is for sure: they were incredibly wicked spirits, leading those who interacted with them into complete delusion, crime, and ruin. This serves as a lesson for anyone looking to consult with spirits, whether through a medium or any other means, to demand solid evidence of good character before engaging with them. Spirits that are claimed to communicate with people in these modern times can hardly be considered reputable. No significant truths, important guidance for human behavior, or useful teachings have ever been delivered to humanity through them; and likely much harm has come from trusting them. It’s not wise to subject our minds to the influence of any of our fellow humans, who appear ordinary, unless we know something about them that makes them deserving of our trust; even less so, to bring them into our close relationships or confidences. Spirits can’t be put under oath, nor can their credibility be tested. We can’t know if they are truthful or deceitful, and common sense suggests we should stay away from them. The knowledge available to us through the works of living humans; the wealth of human learning and science; the pages of history, whether sacred or secular; the records of revelations; and the teachings and discussions of the wise and good among us, while they are alive—these are ample avenues for exploration and can easily fill a lifetime.

In its general outlines and minuter details, Salem Witchcraft is an illustration of the fatal effects of allowing the imagination inflamed by passion to take the place of common sense, and of pushing the curiosity and credence of the human mind, in this stage of our being, while in these corporeal embodiments, beyond the boundaries that ought to limit their exercise. If we disregard those boundaries, and try to overleap them, we shall be liable to the same results. The lesson needs to be impressed equally upon all generations and ages of the world's future history. Essays have been written and books published to prove that the sense of the miraculous is destined[ii.431] to decline as mankind becomes more enlightened, and ascribing a greater or less tendency to the indulgence of this sense to particular periods of the church, or systems of belief, or schools of what is called philosophy. It is maintained that it was more prevalent in the mediæval ages than in modern times. Some assert that it has had a greater development in Catholic than Protestant countries; and some, perhaps, insist upon the reverse. Some attempt to show that it has manifested itself more remarkably among Puritans than in other classes of Protestant Christians. The last and most pretentious form of this dogma is, that the sense of the miraculous fades away in the progress of what arrogates to itself the name of Rationalism. This is one of the delusive results of introducing generalization into historical disquisitions. History deals with man. Man is always the same. The race consists, not of an aggregation, but of individuals, in all ages, never moulded or melted into classes. Each individual has ever retained his distinctness from every other. There has been the same infinite variety in every period, in every race, in every nation. Society, philosophy, custom, can no more obliterate these varieties than they can bring the countenances and features of men into uniformity. Diversity everywhere alike prevails. The particular forms and shapes in which the sense of the miraculous may express itself have passed and will pass away in the progress of civilization. But the sense itself remains; just as particular costumes and fashions of garment pass away, while the[ii.432] human form, its front erect and its vision towards the heavens, remains. The sense of the miraculous remains with Protestants as much as with Catholics, with Churchmen as much as with Puritans, with those who reject all creeds, equally with those whose creeds are the longest and the oldest. In our day, it must have been generally noticed, that the wonders of what imagines itself to be Spiritualism are rather more accredited by persons who aspire to the character of rationalists than by those who hold on tenaciously to the old landmarks of Orthodoxy.

In both its broad strokes and finer details, Salem Witchcraft shows the dangerous consequences of letting passion-driven imagination replace common sense and pushing human curiosity and belief too far beyond reasonable limits. If we ignore these limits and try to surpass them, we'll face similar outcomes. This lesson needs to be emphasized across all future generations. Essays have been written and books published arguing that the sense of the miraculous is set to decline as humanity becomes more enlightened, attributing varying degrees of this tendency to specific periods in church history, belief systems, or schools of what is termed philosophy. Some argue that this sense was more common in medieval times than today. Some claim it has developed more in Catholic countries than in Protestant ones, while others insist on the opposite. Some try to demonstrate that it has manifested more prominently among Puritans than in other Protestant groups. The most pretentious version of this idea is that the sense of the miraculous diminishes with the rise of what calls itself Rationalism. This is a misleading result of applying generalizations to historical discussions. History concerns itself with people. People remain fundamentally the same. Humanity isn't just a collection of individuals, but rather a tapestry of distinct personalities across ages, never fully formed into classes. Each individual maintains their uniqueness. There’s been the same endless variety throughout all eras, races, and nations. Society, philosophy, and customs can’t erase these differences any more than they can standardize human faces and features. Diversity prevails everywhere. The specific ways in which the sense of the miraculous may present itself have come and gone, and will continue to do so with civilization’s progress. But the sense itself endures; much like specific clothing styles come and go, while the human form—upright and gazing toward the heavens—remains. The sense of the miraculous is just as present among Protestants as it is among Catholics, just as strong among Church members as it is among Puritans, and equally shared by those who reject all beliefs as by those whose beliefs are the longest and oldest. Nowadays, it has likely been observed widely that the wonders claimed by those who see themselves as Spiritualists are generally more believed by those who aspire to rationalism than by those who cling tightly to traditional Orthodoxy.

The truth is, that the sense of the miraculous has not declined, and never can. It will grow deeper and stronger with the progress of true intelligence. As long as man thinks, he will feel that he is himself a perpetual miracle. The more he thinks, the more will he feel it. The mind which can wander into the deepest depths of the starry heavens, and feel itself to be there; which, pondering over the printed page, lives in the most distant past, communes with sages of hoar antiquity, with prophets and apostles, joins the disciples as they walk with the risen Lord to Emmaus, or mingles in the throng that listen to Paul at Mars' Hill,—knows itself to be beyond the power of space or time, and greater than material things. It knows not what it shall be; but it feels that it is something above the present and visible. It realizes the spiritual world, and will do so more and more, the higher its culture, the greater its freedom, and the wider its view of the material nature[ii.433] by which it is environed, while in this transitory stage of its history.

The truth is, the sense of the miraculous hasn’t faded and never will. It will deepen and strengthen as true understanding progresses. As long as humans think, they'll feel like they are a perpetual miracle. The more they think, the more they'll feel it. The mind that can wander into the deepest parts of the starry sky and feel itself present there; which, reflecting on the printed page, connects with the distant past, engages with wise individuals from ancient times, with prophets and apostles, walks with the disciples as they accompany the risen Lord to Emmaus, or mingles in the crowd listening to Paul at Mars' Hill,—knows that it exists beyond the limits of space and time and is greater than physical things. It doesn't know what it will become, but it senses that it is something greater than the present and visible world. It recognizes the spiritual realm, and this recognition will grow more as its culture advances, its freedom expands, and its perspective on the material world[ii.433] surrounding it in this temporary stage of its history widens.

The lesson of our story will be found not to discard spiritual things, but to teach us, while in the flesh, not to attempt to break through present limitations, not to seek to know more than has been made known of the unseen and invisible, but to keep the inquiries of our minds and the action of society within the bounds of knowledge now attainable, and extend our curious researches and speculations only as far as we can here have solid ground to stand upon.

The lesson of our story is to not ignore spiritual matters, but to remind us, while we're alive, not to try and push past our current limits, not to seek to understand more than what has been revealed about the unseen and the invisible. Instead, we should keep our questions and societal actions within the range of knowledge we can access now and only explore our curiosity and ideas as far as we have a solid foundation to stand on.

To explain the superstitious opinions that took effect in the witchcraft delusion, it is necessary to consider the state of biblical criticism at that period. That department of theological learning was then in a very immature condition.

To explain the superstitious beliefs that emerged during the witchcraft craze, it's important to look at the state of biblical criticism at that time. That area of theological study was still in a very undeveloped stage.

The authority of Scripture, as it appeared on the face of the standard version, seemed to require them to pursue the course they adopted; and those enlarged and just principles of interpretation which we are taught by the learned of all denominations at the present day to apply to the Sacred Writings had not then been brought to the view of the people or received by the clergy.

The authority of Scripture, as it was presented in the standard version, seemed to require them to follow the path they chose; and the broader and more accurate principles of interpretation that we are now taught by scholars of all backgrounds to apply to the Sacred Writings had not yet been introduced to the public or accepted by the clergy.

It was gravely argued, for instance, that there was nothing improbable in the idea that witches had the power, in virtue of their compact with the Devil, of riding aloft through the air, because it is recorded, in the history of our Lord's temptation, that Satan transported him in a similar manner to the pinnacle of the[ii.434] temple, and to the summit of an exceedingly high mountain. And Cotton Mather declares, that, to his apprehension, the disclosures of the wonderful operations of the Devil, upon and through his subjects, that were made in the course of the witchcraft prosecutions, had shed a marvellous light upon the Scriptures! What a perversion of the Sacred Writings to employ them for the purpose of sanctioning the extravagant and delirious reveries of the human imagination! What a miserable delusion, to suppose that the Word of God could receive illumination from the most absurd and horrible superstition that ever brooded in darkness over the mind of man!

It was seriously argued, for example, that there was nothing unbelievable about the idea that witches had the power, due to their pact with the Devil, to fly through the air. This is because it’s recorded, in the story of Jesus' temptation, that Satan took him in a similar way to the top of the[ii.434] temple and to the peak of a very high mountain. And Cotton Mather claims that, in his view, the revelations of the amazing acts of the Devil, through his followers, revealed during the witch trials, had provided astonishing insight into the Scriptures! What a distortion of the Sacred Writings to use them to justify the wild and crazy fantasies of human imagination! What a terrible misunderstanding to think that the Word of God could be illuminated by the most absurd and horrific superstitions that have ever clouded human thought!

One of the sources of the delusion of 1692 was ignorance of many natural laws that have been revealed by modern science. A vast amount of knowledge on these subjects has been attained since that time. In our halls of education, in associations for the diffusion of knowledge, and in a diversified and all-pervading popular literature, what was dark and impenetrable mystery then has been explained, accounted for, and brought within the grasp of all minds. The contemplation of the evils brought upon our predecessors by their ignorance of the laws of nature cannot but lead us to appreciate more highly our opportunities to get knowledge in this department. As we advance into the interior of the physical system to which we belong; are led in succession from one revelation of beauty and grandeur to another, and the field of light and truth displaces that of darkness and[ii.435] mystery; while the fearful images that disturbed the faith and bewildered the thoughts of our fathers are dissolving and vanishing, the whole host of spirits, ghosts, and demons disappearing, and the presence and providence of God alone found to fill all scenes and cause all effects,—our hearts ought to rise to him in loftier adoration and holier devotion. If, while we enjoy a fuller revelation of his infinite and all-glorious operations and designs than our fathers did, the sentiment of piety which glowed in their hearts like a coal from the altar of God has been permitted to grow dim in ours, no reproach their errors and faults can possibly authorize will equal that which will justly fall upon us.

One of the reasons for the delusion of 1692 was the lack of understanding of many natural laws that modern science has since revealed. A huge amount of knowledge on these topics has been gained since then. In our schools, in organizations dedicated to spreading knowledge, and in a diverse and widespread popular literature, what was once a dark and impenetrable mystery has been explained, understood, and made accessible to everyone. Reflecting on the hardships faced by our predecessors due to their ignorance of natural laws should make us appreciate our opportunities to learn in this area even more. As we delve deeper into the physical system we belong to, moving from one revelation of beauty and grandeur to another, the realm of light and truth replaces that of darkness and mystery; while the frightening images that troubled our ancestors' faith and confused their thoughts are fading away, the entire range of spirits, ghosts, and demons disappears, revealing only the presence and providence of God in all situations and causes of effects—our hearts should rise to Him in greater adoration and deeper devotion. If, while we enjoy a clearer revelation of His infinite and glorious actions and intentions than our ancestors did, the sense of piety that once burned in their hearts like a coal from God's altar has allowed to fade in ours, no reproach for their mistakes and faults can possibly match the one that rightfully falls upon us.

Another cause of their delusion was too great a dependence upon the imagination. We shall find no lesson more clearly taught by history, by experience, or by observation, than this, that man is never safe while either his fancy or his feeling is the guiding principle of his nature. There is a strong and constant attraction between his imagination and his passions; and, if either is permitted to exercise unlimited sway, the other will most certainly be drawn into co-operation with it, and, when they are allowed to act without restraint upon each other and with each other, they lead to the derangement and convulsion of his whole system. They constitute the combustible elements of our being: one serves as the spark to explode the other. Reason, enlightened by revelation and guided by conscience, is the great conservative prin[ii.436]ciple: while that exercises the sovereign power over the fancy and the passions, we are safe; if it is dethroned, no limit can be assigned to the ruin that may follow. In the scenes we have now been called to witness, we have perceived to what lengths of folly, cruelty, and crime even good men have been carried, who relinquished the aid, rejected the counsels, and abandoned the guidance of their reason.

Another reason for their delusion was their excessive reliance on imagination. There’s no lesson more clearly shown by history, experience, or observation than this: a person is never truly safe when their imagination or emotions are in control. There’s a strong and constant pull between imagination and passions; if either is allowed to dominate freely, the other will definitely become involved, and when they are both unrestricted and influencing each other, they lead to the chaos and breakdown of the entire system. They are the explosive components of our existence: one acts as the spark that ignites the other. Reason, enlightened by revelation and guided by conscience, is the key stabilizing force: as long as it maintains authority over imagination and emotions, we are safe; once it's overthrown, there are no limits to the destruction that can ensue. In the events we have just witnessed, we have seen how far into foolishness, cruelty, and crime even good people can fall when they abandon the support, ignore the advice, and forsake the guidance of their reason.

Another influence that operated to produce the catastrophe in 1692 was the power of contagious sympathy. Every wise man and good citizen ought to be aware of the existence and operation of this power. There seems indeed to be a constitutional, original, sympathy in our nature. When men act in a crowd, their heartstrings are prone to vibrate in unison. Whatever chord of passion is struck in one breast, the same will ring forth its wild note through the whole mass. This principle shows itself particularly in seasons of excitement, and its power rises in proportion to the ardor and zeal of those upon whom it acts. It is for every one who desires to be preserved from the excesses of popular feeling, and to prevent the community to which he belongs from plunging into riotous and blind commotions, to keep his own judgment and emotions as free as possible from a power that seizes all it can reach, draws them into its current, and sweeps them round and round like the Maelstrom, until they are overwhelmed and buried in its devouring vortex. When others are heated, the only wisdom is to determine to keep cool; whenever a people or an individual[ii.437] is rushing headlong, it is the duty of patriotism and of friendship to check the motion.

Another influence that contributed to the disaster in 1692 was the power of contagious sympathy. Every wise person and good citizen should recognize the existence and impact of this power. There seems to be an inherent sympathy in our nature. When people act in a crowd, their emotions tend to resonate together. Whatever emotional chord is struck in one person will echo throughout the entire group. This principle is especially evident during times of excitement, and its power increases in relation to the passion and enthusiasm of those it affects. Anyone who wants to avoid the extremes of public sentiment and prevent their community from falling into chaotic and mindless unrest should strive to keep their own judgment and emotions as free as possible from a force that grabs everything in its path, pulling them into its current and spinning them around like the Maelstrom, until they are overwhelmed and consumed by its destructive whirlpool. When others are fired up, the best course of action is to stay calm; whenever a group or an individual[ii.437] is charging forward recklessly, it is the duty of patriotism and friendship to slow them down.

In this connection it may be remarked—and I should be sorry to bring the subject to a close without urging the thought upon your attention—that the mere power of sympathy, the momentum with which men act in a crowd, is itself capable of convulsing society and overthrowing all its safeguards, without the aid or supposed agency of supernatural beings. The early history of the colony of New York presents a case in point.

In this regard, I want to point out—and I’d hate to wrap up this topic without mentioning it—that the simple power of sympathy, the energy with which people act in a crowd, can shake up society and dismantle all its protections, without any help from supernatural forces. The early history of the colony of New York is a perfect example of this.

In 1741, just half a century after the witchcraft prosecutions in Massachusetts, the city of New York, then containing about nine thousand inhabitants, witnessed a scene quite rivalling, in horror and folly, that presented here. Some one started the idea, that a conspiracy was on foot, among the colored portion of the inhabitants, to murder the whites. The story was passed from one to another. Although subsequently ascertained to have been utterly without foundation, no one stopped to inquire into its truth, or had the wisdom or courage to discountenance its circulation. Soon a universal panic, like a conflagration, spread through the whole community; and the results were most frightful. More than one hundred persons were cast into prison. Four white persons and eighteen negroes were hanged. Eleven negroes were burned at the stake, and fifty were transported into slavery. As in the witchcraft prosecutions, a clergyman was among the victims, and perished on the gallows.[ii.438]

In 1741, just fifty years after the witchcraft trials in Massachusetts, New York City, which then had around nine thousand residents, experienced a scene that was just as horrific and foolish. Someone suggested that there was a conspiracy among the people of color to kill white people. The rumor spread rapidly. Although it was later proven to be completely unfounded, no one bothered to verify its truth or had the sense or courage to stop its spread. Soon, a widespread panic erupted throughout the community like a wildfire, leading to devastating consequences. More than a hundred people were thrown in jail. Four white people and eighteen black individuals were hanged. Eleven black people were burned at the stake, and fifty were sold into slavery. Similar to the witchcraft trials, a clergyman was among the victims and met his end on the gallows.[ii.438]

The "New-York Negro Plot," as it was called, was indeed marked by all the features of absurdity in the delusion, ferocity in the popular excitement, and destruction along the path of its progress, which belonged to the witchcraft proceedings here, and shows that any people, given over to the power of contagious passion, may be swept by desolation, and plunged into ruin.

The "New-York Negro Plot," as it was called, was definitely characterized by all the elements of absurdity in the delusion, intensity in the public outrage, and devastation along its path, similar to the witch trials here. It illustrates that any group of people, consumed by overwhelming emotions, can be driven to destruction and chaos.

One of the practical lessons inculcated by the history that has now been related is, that no duty is more certain, none more important, than a free and fearless expression of opinion, by all persons, on all occasions. No wise or philosophic person would think of complaining of the diversities of sentiment it is likely to develop. Such diversities are the vital principle of free communities, and the only elements of popular intelligence. If the right to utter them is asserted by all and for all, tolerance is secured, and no inconvenience results. It is probable that there were many persons here in 1692 who doubted the propriety of the proceedings at their commencement, but who were afterwards prevailed upon to fall into the current and swell the tide. If they had all discharged their duty to their country and their consciences by freely and boldly uttering their disapprobation and declaring their dissent, who can tell but that the whole tragedy might have been prevented? and, if it might, the blood of the innocent may be said, in one sense, to be upon their heads.

One of the practical lessons from the history we've just discussed is that there’s no duty more certain or more important than everyone freely and fearlessly expressing their opinions on all occasions. No wise or thoughtful person would complain about the different perspectives that might arise from this. Such differences are the essential foundation of free societies and the only components of public understanding. When everyone asserts their right to express these views, tolerance is achieved, and no harm comes from it. It’s likely that many people here in 1692 questioned the appropriateness of the actions being taken at the start, but they were later persuaded to go along with the majority. If they had all fulfilled their responsibility to their country and their consciences by openly and courageously voicing their disapproval and stating their dissent, who knows, maybe the entire tragedy could have been avoided? And if it could have been, we might say that the innocent blood rests, in a sense, on their heads.

The leading features and most striking aspects of[ii.439] the witchcraft delusion have been repeated in places where witches and the interference of supernatural beings are never thought of: whenever a community gives way to its passions, and spurns the admonitions and casts off the restraints of reason, there is a delusion that can hardly be described in any other phrase. We cannot glance our eye over the face of our country without beholding such scenes: and, so long as they are exhibited; so long as we permit ourselves to invest objects of little or no real importance with such an inordinate imaginary interest that we are ready to go to every extremity rather than relinquish them; so long as we yield to the impulse of passion, and plunge into excitement, and take counsel of our feelings rather than our judgment,—we are following in the footsteps of our fanatical ancestors. It would be wiser to direct our ridicule and reproaches to the delusions of our own times than to those of a previous age; and it becomes us to treat with charity and mercy the failings of our predecessors, at least until we have ceased to imitate and repeat them.

The main features and most noticeable aspects of[ii.439] the witchcraft delusion have appeared in places where the idea of witches and supernatural beings is never considered: whenever a community lets its emotions take over, ignoring warnings and throwing off the restraints of reason, a delusion arises that can hardly be described in any other way. We can’t look around our country without seeing such situations: as long as they continue; as long as we allow ourselves to assign exaggerated importance to things that really don’t matter, to the point that we’re willing to go to great lengths rather than let them go; as long as we give in to emotional impulses, diving into excitement and relying on our feelings instead of our judgment,—we're following in the footsteps of our overzealous ancestors. It would be smarter to direct our criticism and mockery toward the delusions of our own times rather than those of the past; and we should treat the failings of our predecessors with kindness and understanding, at least until we stop imitating them.

It has been my object to collect and arrange all the materials within reach necessary to give a correct and adequate view of the passage of history related and discussed in this work, and to suggest the considerations and conclusions required by truth and justice. It is worthy of the most thoughtful contemplation. The moralist, metaphysician, and political philosopher will find few chapters of human experience more fraught with instruction, and may well ponder upon[ii.440] the lessons it teaches, scrutinize thoroughly all its periods, phases, and branches, analyze its causes, eliminate its elements, and mark its developments. The laws, energies, capabilities, and liabilities of our nature, as exhibited in the character of individuals and in the action of society, are remarkably illustrated. The essential facts belonging to the transaction, gathered from authentic records and reliable testimonies and traditions, have been faithfully presented. The Witchcraft Delusion of 1692, so far as I have been able to recover it from misunderstanding and oblivion, has been brought to view; and I indulge the belief, that the subject will commend itself to, and reward, the study of every meditative mind.

I aimed to gather and organize all the materials I could find to provide a clear and thorough overview of the historical events discussed in this work, and to offer the insights and conclusions that truth and justice demand. It's definitely worth deep consideration. Moral thinkers, philosophers, and political theorists will find few chapters of human experience more packed with lessons and should reflect on[ii.440] the messages it conveys, carefully examine all its periods, phases, and aspects, analyze its causes, break down its elements, and track its developments. The laws, energies, capabilities, and vulnerabilities of our nature, as displayed through individual character and societal actions, are clearly illustrated. The key facts relevant to the events, collected from credible records and trustworthy testimonies and traditions, have been accurately presented. The 1692 Witchcraft Delusion, as far as I could bring it back from misunderstanding and forgetfulness, has been revealed; and I believe that the topic will attract and reward the attention of any reflective person.

I know not in what better terms the discussion of this subject can be brought to a termination, than in those which express the conclusions to which one of our own most distinguished citizens was brought, after having examined the whole transaction with the eye of a lawyer and the spirit of a judge. The following is from the Centennial Discourse pronounced in Salem on the 18th of September, 1828, by the late Hon. Joseph Story, of the Supreme Court of the United States:—

I don't know how else to wrap up this discussion on the subject except by sharing the thoughts of one of our most respected citizens after he looked at the entire situation closely as both a lawyer and a judge. Here’s a quote from the Centennial Discourse given in Salem on September 18, 1828, by the late Hon. Joseph Story, of the Supreme Court of the United States:—

"We may lament, then," says he, "the errors of the times, which led to these prosecutions. But surely our ancestors had no special reasons for shame in a belief which had the universal sanction of their own and all former ages; which counted in its train philosophers, as well as enthusiasts; which was graced[ii.441] by the learning of prelates, as well as by the countenance of kings; which the law supported by its mandates, and the purest judges felt no compunctions in enforcing. Let Witch Hill remain for ever memorable by this sad catastrophe, not to perpetuate our dishonor, but as an affecting, enduring proof of human infirmity; a proof that perfect justice belongs to one judgment-seat only,—that which is linked to the throne of God."

"We might regret, then," he says, "the mistakes of these times that led to these prosecutions. But surely our ancestors had no specific reasons to feel shame for a belief that had the universal approval of their own generation and all those before them; that included both philosophers and enthusiasts; that was supported[ii.441] by the knowledge of bishops and by the approval of kings; that the law upheld through its mandates, and that the most honorable judges had no hesitation in enforcing. Let Witch Hill be forever remembered for this tragic event, not to mark our disgrace, but as a poignant and lasting reminder of human weakness; a reminder that true justice resides in one judgment seat only— the one that is connected to the throne of God."

In the work which has now reached its close, many strange phases of humanity have been exposed. We have beheld, with astonishment and horror, the extent to which it is liable to be the agent and victim of delusion and ruin. Folly that cannot be exceeded; wrong, outrage, and woe, melting the heart that contemplates them; and crime, not within our power or province to measure,—have passed before us. But not the dark side only of our nature has been displayed. Manifestations of innocence, heroism, invincible devotion to truth, integrity of soul triumphing over all the terrors and horrors that can be accumulated in life and in death, Christian piety in its most heavenly radiance, have mingled in the drama, whose curtain is now to fall. Noble specimens of virtue in man and woman, old and young, have shed a light, as from above, upon its dark and melancholy scenes. Not only the sufferers, but some of those who shared the dread responsibility of the crisis, demand our commiseration, and did what they could to atone for their error.

In the work that's now coming to a close, we've seen many strange aspects of humanity. We have looked on in shock and horror at how easily people can be both the cause and the victim of delusion and destruction. There's been mindless folly, deep wrongs, outrage, and suffering that touch the heart just by contemplating them; and there have been crimes beyond our ability to assess. But we've also seen not just the dark side of our nature. We've witnessed acts of innocence, bravery, and a relentless commitment to truth, with a deep integrity of soul that triumphs over all the fears and horrors life and death can bring. Christian devotion, shining in its purest form, has blended into this drama, which is now about to conclude. Remarkable examples of virtue in both men and women, young and old, have illuminated its dark and sorrowful moments. Not only the victims but also some of those who faced the heavy burden of the crisis deserve our compassion, as they did what they could to make amends for their mistakes.

The conduct of Judge Sewall claims our particu[ii.442]lar admiration. He observed annually in private a day of humiliation and prayer, during the remainder of his life, to keep fresh in his mind a sense of repentance and sorrow for the part he bore in the trials. On the day of the general fast, he rose in the place where he was accustomed to worship, the Old South, in Boston, and, in the presence of the great assembly, handed up to the pulpit a written confession, acknowledging the error into which he had been led, praying for the forgiveness of God and his people, and concluding with a request to all the congregation to unite with him in devout supplication, that it might not bring down the displeasure of the Most High upon his country, his family, or himself. He remained standing during the public reading of the paper. This was an act of true manliness and dignity of soul.

The actions of Judge Sewall deserve our distinct admiration. He observed a private day of humility and prayer each year for the rest of his life to keep a sense of repentance and sorrow for his role in the trials. On the day of the general fast, he stood in the place where he usually worshipped, the Old South in Boston, and, in front of the large assembly, submitted a written confession to the pulpit. In it, he acknowledged the mistake he had made, prayed for forgiveness from God and his community, and ended by asking everyone in the congregation to join him in sincere prayer, hoping it wouldn’t bring down the displeasure of the Most High on his country, his family, or himself. He remained standing during the public reading of the document. This was a truly courageous act that showed his dignity.

The following passage is found in his diary, under the date of April 23, 1720, nearly thirty years afterwards. It was suggested by the perusal of Neal's "History of New England:"—

The following passage is from his diary, dated April 23, 1720, almost thirty years later. It was prompted by reading Neal's "History of New England:"—

"In Dr. Neal's 'History of New England,' its nakedness is laid open in the businesses of the Quakers, Anabaptists, witchcraft. The judges' names are mentioned p. 502; my confession, p. 536, vol. ii. The good and gracious God be pleased to save New England and me, and my family!"

"In Dr. Neal's 'History of New England,' the issues faced by the Quakers, Anabaptists, and witchcraft are exposed. The judges' names are mentioned on p. 502; my confession can be found on p. 536, vol. ii. May the good and gracious God be pleased to protect New England, me, and my family!"

There never was a more striking and complete fulfilment of the apostolic assurance, that the prayer of a righteous man availeth much, than in this instance. God has been pleased, in a remarkable manner, to[ii.443] save and bless New England. The favor of Heaven was bestowed upon Judge Sewall during the remainder of his life. He presided for many years on the bench where he committed the error so sincerely deplored by him, and was regarded by all as a benefactor, an ornament, and a blessing to the community: while his family have enjoyed to a high degree the protection of Providence from that day to this; have adorned every profession, and every department of society; have filled with honor the most elevated stations; have graced, in successive generations, the same lofty seat their ancestor occupied; and been the objects of the confidence, respect, and love of their fellow-citizens.

There has never been a more striking and complete example of the apostolic assurance that the prayer of a righteous person accomplishes a lot than in this case. God has chosen, in a remarkable way, to[ii.443] save and bless New England. The favor of Heaven was granted to Judge Sewall for the rest of his life. He served for many years on the bench where he made the mistake he deeply regretted and was viewed by everyone as a benefactor, an asset, and a blessing to the community. His family has enjoyed significant protection from Providence since that time; they have excelled in every profession and every area of society, held prestigious positions with honor, graced the same prominent seat that their ancestor occupied through successive generations, and have been the recipients of the trust, respect, and affection of their fellow citizens.

Your thoughts have been led through scenes of the most distressing and revolting character. I leave before your imaginations one bright with all the beauty of Christian virtue,—that which exhibits Judge Sewall standing forth in the house of his God and in the presence of his fellow-worshippers, making a public declaration of his sorrow and regret for the mistaken judgment he had co-operated with others in pronouncing. Here you have a representation of a truly great and magnanimous spirit; a spirit to which the divine influence of our religion had given an expansion and a lustre that Roman or Grecian virtue never knew; a spirit that had achieved a greater victory than warrior ever won,—a victory over itself; a spirit so noble and so pure, that it felt no shame in acknowledging an error, and publicly imploring,[ii.444] for a great wrong done to his fellow-creatures, the forgiveness of God and man.

Your thoughts have been taken through scenes that are deeply distressing and repulsive. I present to you one that shines with all the beauty of Christian virtue,—showing Judge Sewall standing in his place of worship among his fellow worshippers, making a public declaration of his sorrow and regret for the mistaken judgment he had made with others. Here you see a true example of a great and noble spirit; a spirit that the divine influence of our religion had given a depth and brilliance that Roman or Greek virtue never knew; a spirit that achieved a greater victory than any warrior has ever won,—a victory over itself; a spirit so noble and pure, it felt no shame in admitting an error, and publicly asking,[ii.444] for forgiveness for a great wrong done to his fellow beings, from both God and man.

Our Essex poet, whose beautiful genius has made classical the banks of his own Merrimac, shed a romantic light over the early homes and characters of New England, and brought back to life the spirit, forms, scenes, and men of the past, has not failed to immortalize, in his verse, the profound penitence of the misguided but upright judge:—

Our Essex poet, whose impressive talent has made the banks of his own Merrimac famous, cast a romantic glow over the early homes and characters of New England, bringing to life the spirit, shapes, scenes, and people of the past. He has successfully immortalized in his poetry the deep remorse of the misguided yet honorable judge:—

"Heartfelt and sorrowful, a story unfolds,
Like a remorseful hymn from the ancient Psalmist,
Of the fast that the good man observed his whole life With a constant sadness that never faded,
As the year went by and the time approached Of a mistake that felt like the burden of guilt,
When he sat on the bench of the witchcraft courts, With the laws of Moses and 'Hale's Reports,'
And spoke, in the name of both, the word
That put the cord around the witch's neck,
And stacked the wooden planks that pressed The weak life from the warlock's chest!
All day long, from sunrise to sunrise,
His door was locked, and his curtain was pulled shut;
No one stepped on his quiet doorstep,
No one looked at him except for God,
As he confused the spirits of the deceased with spells
Of remorseful tears, and prayers, and songs of praise,
And with valuable evidence from the sacred Word
Of the infinite compassion and love of the Lord,
His faith strengthened and his trust renewed,
That he deeply regretted the mistake of his ignorance,
Could be swept away in the mixed flood. "Of his human sorrow and Christ's precious blood!"

SUPPLEMENT.


SUPPLEMENT.


[The subject of Salem Witchcraft has been traced to its conclusion, and discussed within its proper limits, in the foregoing work. But whoever is interested in it as a chapter of history or an exhibition of humanity may feel a curiosity, on some points, that reasonably demands gratification. The questions will naturally arise, Who were the earliest to extricate themselves and the public from the delusion? what is known, beyond the facts mentioned in the progress of the foregoing discussion, of the later fortunes of its prominent actors? what the view taken in the retrospect by individuals and public bodies implicated in the transaction? and what opinions on the general subject have subsequently prevailed? To answer these questions is the design of this Supplement.]

[The topic of Salem Witchcraft has been fully explored and discussed in the previous sections. However, anyone interested in it as a part of history or a display of human behavior may have queries that deserve answers. Questions will naturally come up, such as: Who were the first to free themselves and the public from the hysteria? What is known, aside from the facts mentioned earlier, about the later lives of the key figures involved? How did individuals and organizations involved in the events reflect on them later? And what opinions on the overall topic have emerged since then? This Supplement aims to address these questions.]

 IT can hardly be said that there was any open and avowed opposition in the community to the proceedings during their early progress. There is some uncertainty and obscurity to what extent there was an unexpressed dissent in the minds of particular private persons. On the general subject of the existence and power of the Devil and his agency, more or less, in influencing human and earthly affairs, it would be difficult to prove that there was any considerable difference of opinion.

IT is hard to say that there was any open and clear opposition in the community to the actions as they unfolded early on. There is some uncertainty about how much unvoiced disagreement existed among certain individuals. Regarding the broader topic of the Devil's existence and his influence on human and earthly matters, it would be challenging to show that there was any significant difference in opinion.

The first undisguised and unequivocal opposition to the proceedings was a remarkable document that has recently come to light. Among some papers which have found their way to the custody of the Essex Institute, is a letter, dated "Salisbury, Aug. 9, 1692," addressed "To the worshipful Jonathan Corwin, Esq., these present at his house in Salem." It is indorsed, "A letter[ii.448] to my grandfather, on account of the condemnation of the witches." Its date shows that it was written while the public infatuation and fury were at their height, and the Court was sentencing to death and sending to the gallows its successive cartloads. There is no injunction of secresy, and no shrinking from responsibility. Although the name of the writer is not given in full, he was evidently well known to Corwin, and had written to him before on the subject. The messenger, in accordance with the superscription, undoubtedly delivered it into the hands of the judge at his residence on the corner of Essex and North Streets. The fact that Jonathan Corwin preserved this document, and placed it in the permanent files of his family papers, is pretty good proof that he appreciated the weight of its arguments. It is not improbable that he expressed himself to that effect to his brethren on the bench, and perhaps to others. What he said, and the fact that he was holding such a correspondence, may have reached the ears of the accusers, and led them to commence a movement against him by crying out upon his mother-in-law.

The first clear and open opposition to the proceedings was an important document that has recently come to light. Among some papers that ended up at the Essex Institute, there is a letter dated "Salisbury, Aug. 9, 1692," addressed "To the honorable Jonathan Corwin, Esq., present at his house in Salem." It is marked, "A letter[ii.448] to my grandfather, regarding the condemnation of the witches." Its date indicates that it was written during the height of public frenzy and anger, when the Court was sentencing people to death and sending them to the gallows in large numbers. There is no request for secrecy, and no avoidance of accountability. Although the writer's name isn't fully mentioned, he was clearly well-known to Corwin and had previously written to him about this issue. The messenger, as indicated on the address, surely delivered it to the judge at his home on the corner of Essex and North Streets. The fact that Jonathan Corwin kept this document and added it to his family's permanent files suggests that he recognized the importance of its arguments. It's quite possible that he shared this view with his fellow judges, and maybe with others as well. What he said, along with the knowledge that he was engaging in such correspondence, might have reached the accusers and prompted them to start a campaign against him by turning on his mother-in-law.

The letter is a most able argument against the manner in which the trials were conducted, and, by conclusive logic, overthrows the whole fabric of the evidence on the strength of which the Court was convicting and taking the lives of innocent persons. No such piece of reasoning has come to us from that age. Its author must be acknowledged to have been an expert in dialectic subtleties, and a pure reasoner of unsurpassed acumen and force. It requires, but it will reward, the closest attention and concentration of thought in following the threads of the argument. It reaches its conclusions on a most difficult subject with clearness and certainty. It achieves and realizes, in mere mental processes, quantities, and forces, on the points at which it aims, what is called demonstration in mathematics and geometry.

The letter presents a strong argument against how the trials were conducted and, through clear logic, destroys the entire basis of the evidence that the Court used to convict and execute innocent people. We haven't seen such reasoning from that time. Its author must be recognized as an expert in the subtleties of debate and a sharp thinker of unmatched insight and strength. It requires, but will reward, careful attention and focus to follow the threads of the argument. It arrives at its conclusions on a very complex topic with clarity and confidence. It accomplishes and realizes, through mere mental processes, quantities, and forces, what is known as demonstration in mathematics and geometry.

The writer does not discredit, but seems to have received, the then prevalent doctrines relating to the personality, power, and attributes of the Devil; and, from that standpoint, controverts and demolishes the principles on which the Court was proceeding, in reference to the "spectral evidence" and the credibility of the "afflicted children" generally. The letter, and the formal argument appended to it, arrest notice in one or two general aspects. There is an appearance of their having proceeded from an elderly[ii.449] person, not at all from any marks of infirmity of intellect, but rather from an air of wisdom and a tone of authority which can only result from long experience and observation. The circumstance that an amanuensis was employed, and the author writes the initials of his signature only, strengthens this impression. At the same time, there are indications of a free and progressive spirit, more likely to have had force at an earlier period of life. In some aspects, the document indicates a theological education, and familiarity with matters that belong to the studies of a minister; in others, it manifests habits of mind and modes of expression and reasoning more natural to one accustomed to close legal statements and deductions. If the production of a trained professional man of either class, it would justly be regarded as remarkable. If its author belonged to neither class, but was merely a local magistrate, farmer, and militia officer, it becomes more than remarkable. There must have been a high development among the founders of our villages, when the laity could present examples of such a capacity to grasp the most difficult subjects, and conduct such acute and abstruse disquisitions. [See Appendix.]

The writer doesn't dismiss the popular beliefs about the personality, power, and attributes of the Devil at the time; instead, he seems to have accepted them. From that perspective, he challenges and refutes the principles the Court was using regarding "spectral evidence" and the credibility of the "afflicted children" in general. The letter, along with the formal argument attached to it, catches attention in a couple of general ways. It seems to come from an older person—not showing any signs of mental decline but rather exuding wisdom and authority that likely comes from extensive experience and observation. The fact that an assistant was used and the author only writes the initials of his signature adds to this impression. At the same time, there are signs of a free and progressive mindset, which is often more vibrant in someone at a younger age. In some ways, the document shows a theological education and familiarity with topics relevant to a minister’s studies; in other aspects, it reflects a way of thinking and a style of reasoning more typical of someone used to clear legal arguments and deductions. If this was produced by a trained professional from either background, it would be considered noteworthy. However, if the author was neither but merely a local magistrate, farmer, and militia officer, it becomes even more remarkable. This suggests that there was a significant level of development among the founders of our villages when laypeople could demonstrate the ability to understand complex topics and engage in such profound discussions. [See Appendix.]

The question as to the authorship of this paper may well excite interest, involving, as it does, minute critical speculations. The elements that enter into its solution illustrate the difficulties and perplexities encompassing the study of local antiquities, and attempts to determine the origin and bearings of old documents or to settle minute points of history. The weight of evidence seems to indicate that the document is attributable to Major Robert Pike, of Salisbury. Whoever was its author did his duty nobly, and stands alone, above all the scholars and educated men of the time, in bearing testimony openly, bravely, in the very ears of the Court, against the disgraceful and shocking course they were pursuing.[I]

The question of who wrote this paper is certainly intriguing, as it involves detailed critical analysis. The factors involved in figuring this out highlight the challenges and complexities of studying local history, as well as efforts to trace the origins and relevance of old documents or clarify specific historical details. The evidence seems to suggest that the document was written by Major Robert Pike of Salisbury. Whoever the author was, he fulfilled his duty with courage, standing out among the scholars and educated individuals of his time by openly and bravely testifying against the disgraceful actions being taken by the Court.[I]

William Brattle, an eminent citizen and opulent merchant of Boston, and a gentleman of education and uncommon abilities, wrote a letter to an unknown correspondent of the clerical profes[ii.451]sion, in October, 1692. It is an able criticism upon the methods of procedure at the trials, condemning them in the strongest language; but it was a confidential communication, and not published[ii.452] until many years afterwards. He says that "the witches' meetings, the Devil's baptisms and mock sacraments, which the accusing and confessing witches oft speak of, are nothing else but the effect of their fancy, depraved and deluded by the Devil, and not a reality to be regarded or minded by any wise man." He charges the judges with having taken testimony from the Devil himself, through witnesses who swore to what they said the Devil communicated to them, thus indirectly introducing the Devil as a witness; and he clinches the accusation by quoting the judges themselves, who, when the accusing and confessing witnesses contradicted each other, got over the difficulty by saying that the Devil, in such instances, took away the memory of some of them, for the moment, obscuring their brains, and misleading them. He sums up this part of his reasoning in these words: "If it be thus granted that the Devil is able to represent false ideas to the imaginations of the confessors, what man of sense will regard the confessions, or any of the words of these confessors?" He says that he knows several persons "about the Bay,"—men, for understanding, judgment, and piety, inferior to few, if any, in New England,—that do utterly condemn the said proceedings. He repudiates the idea that Salem was, in any sense, exclusively responsible for the transaction; and affirms that "other justices in the country, besides the Salem jus[ii.453]tices, have issued out their warrants;" and states, that, of the eight "judges, commissioned for this Court at Salem, five do belong to Suffolk County, four of which five do belong to Boston, and therefore I see no reason why Boston should talk of Salem as though their own judges had had no hand in these proceedings in Salem."

William Brattle, a prominent citizen and wealthy merchant of Boston, as well as a well-educated and talented gentleman, wrote a letter to an unknown member of the clergy in October 1692. In this letter, he offers a strong critique of the methods used in the trials, condemning them in very clear terms; however, it was a private communication and wasn’t published until many years later. He states that "the witches' meetings, the Devil's baptisms, and mock sacraments that the accusing and confessing witches often mention are nothing more than the results of their imagination, twisted and misled by the Devil, and they shouldn't be taken seriously by any sensible person." He accuses the judges of accepting testimony from the Devil himself, through witnesses who claimed to report what the Devil supposedly told them, thereby indirectly introducing the Devil as a witness; he reinforces this accusation by quoting the judges themselves, who, when the accusing and confessing witnesses contradicted each other, resolved the issue by claiming that the Devil had temporarily erased the memory of some of them, clouding their thoughts and leading them astray. He concludes this part of his argument with: "If it’s accepted that the Devil can create false ideas in the minds of those confessing, what sensible person would take the confessions, or any of the words from these confessors, seriously?" He mentions that he knows several individuals "around the Bay"—men whose understanding, judgment, and piety are comparable to the best in New England—who completely condemn these actions. He dismisses the notion that Salem was solely responsible for the events and asserts that "other justices in the area, besides the Salem justices, have issued their warrants;" he explains that of the eight "judges commissioned for this Court at Salem, five are from Suffolk County, four of whom are from Boston, so I don’t see why Boston should talk about Salem as if their own judges weren't involved in these actions in Salem."

There is one view of the subject, upon which Brattle presses with much force and severity. There is ground to suspect, that the proceedings were suffered to go on, after some of those appearing to countenance them had ceased to have faith in the accusations. He charges, directly, complicity in the escape of Mrs. Carey, Mrs. English, Captain Alden, Hezekiah Usher, and others, upon the high officials; and says that while the evidence, upon which so many had been imprisoned, sentenced, and executed, bore against Mrs. Thacher, of Boston, she was never proceeded against. "She was much complained of by the afflicted persons, and yet the justices would not issue out their warrants to apprehend" her and certain others; while at the very same time they were issuing, upon no better or other grounds, warrants against so many others. He charges the judges with this most criminal favoritism. The facts hardly justify such an imputation upon the judges. They did not, after the trials had begun, it is probable, ever issue warrants: that was the function of magistrates. With the exception, perhaps, of Corwin, I think there is no evidence of there having been any doubts or misgivings on the bench. It is altogether too heavy a charge to bring, without the strongest evidence, upon any one. To intimate that officials, or any persons, who did not believe in the accusations, connived at the escape of their friends and relatives, and at the same time countenanced, pretended to believe, and gave deadly effect to them when directed against others, is supposing a criminality and baseness too great to be readily admitted. In that wild reign of the worst of passions, this would have transcended them all in its iniquity. The only excusable people at that time were those who honestly, and without a doubt, believed in the guilt of the convicted. Those who had doubts, and did not frankly and fearlessly express them, were the guilty ones. On their hands is the stain of the innocent blood that was shed. It is not probable, and is scarcely possible, that any considerable number could be at once doubters and prosecutors. On this[ii.454] point, Brattle must be understood to mean, not that judges, or others actively engaged in the prosecutions, warded off proceedings against particular friends or relatives from a principle of deliberate favoritism, but that third parties, actuated by a sycophantic spirit, endeavored to hush up or intercept complaints, when directed too near to the high officials, or thought to gain their favor by aiding the escape of persons in whom they were interested.

There’s a viewpoint on this topic that Brattle emphasizes strongly. There’s reason to suspect that the proceedings continued even after some of those supporting them had lost faith in the accusations. He directly accuses high officials of being involved in the escape of Mrs. Carey, Mrs. English, Captain Alden, Hezekiah Usher, and others, and points out that while the evidence used to imprison, sentence, and execute so many pointed to Mrs. Thacher of Boston, she was never prosecuted. "She was often complained about by the afflicted, yet the justices refused to issue warrants for her and certain others; meanwhile, they were issuing warrants against many others without any better justification.” He accuses the judges of this serious favoritism. The facts do not really support such an accusation against the judges. After the trials started, it’s likely they never issued warrants; that was the role of the magistrates. Except for perhaps Corwin, there doesn’t seem to be any evidence that the judges had doubts or hesitations. This is an extremely heavy charge to make without strong evidence. To suggest that officials, or anyone who didn’t believe in the accusations, looked the other way to let their friends and relatives escape while simultaneously pretending to believe in the accusations against others is to assume a level of wrongdoing and corruption that is hard to accept. In that chaotic time of extreme emotions, this would be the worst of all transgressions. The only people who can be excused are those who genuinely believed in the guilt of the convicted without a shadow of a doubt. Those who had doubts but didn’t express them openly and bravely are the ones truly guilty. They bear the stain of the innocent blood shed. It’s unlikely, and nearly impossible, that a significant number of people could have been both doubters and prosecutors. On this[ii.454], Brattle should be understood to mean that judges, or others involved in the prosecutions, did not deliberately block proceedings against particular friends or family out of favoritism, but rather that third parties, motivated by flattery, tried to silence or intercept complaints that got too close to high officials or thought they could win favor by helping escape individuals they were interested in.

Brattle uses the same weapon which afterwards the opponents of Mr. Parris, in his church at Salem Village, wielded with such decisive effect against him and all who abetted him. It is much to be lamented, that, instead of hiding it under a confidential letter, he did not at the time openly bring it to bear in the most public and defiant manner. One brave, strong voice, uttered in the face of the court and in the congregations of the people, echoed from the corners of the streets, and reaching the ears of the governor and magistrates, denouncing the entire proceedings as the damnable crime of familiarity with evil spirits, and sorcery of the blackest dye, might perhaps have recalled the judges, the people, and the rulers to their senses. If the spirit of the ancient prophets of God, of the Quakers of the preceding age, or of true reformers of any age, had existed in any breast, the experiment would have been tried. Brattle says,—

Brattle uses the same tactic that later opponents of Mr. Parris wielded with such confidence against him and everyone who supported him in his church at Salem Village. It's really unfortunate that instead of keeping it hidden in a private letter, he didn't openly confront this issue in a bold and public way at the time. One brave, strong voice, raised in front of the court and heard by the community, could have echoed through the streets and reached the ears of the governor and magistrates, condemning the whole situation as a despicable crime of dealing with evil spirits and the darkest kind of sorcery. That might have brought the judges, the people, and the leaders back to their senses. If the spirit of the ancient prophets of God, the Quakers from the previous century, or true reformers from any time had been present in anyone's heart, this approach would have been attempted. Brattle says,—

"I cannot but admire that any should go with their distempered friends and relations to the afflicted children, to know what their distempered friends ail, whether they are not bewitched, who it is that afflicts them, and the like. It is true, I know no reason why these afflicted may not be consulted as well as any other, if so be that it was only their natural and ordinary knowledge that was had recourse to: but it is not on this notion that these afflicted children are sought unto, but as they have a supernatural knowledge; a knowledge which they obtain by their holding correspondence with spectres or evil spirits, as they themselves grant. This consulting of these afflicted children, as abovesaid, seems to me to be a very gross evil, a real abomination, not fit to be known in New England; and yet is a thing practised, not only by Tom and John,—I mean the rude and more ignorant sort,—but by many who profess high, and pass among us for some of the better sort. This is that which aggravates the evil, and makes it heinous and tremendous; and yet this is not the worst of it,—for, as[ii.455] sure as I now write to you, even some of our civil leaders and spiritual teachers, who, I think, should punish and preach down such sorcery and wickedness, do yet allow of, encourage, yea, and practise, this very abomination. I know there are several worthy gentlemen in Salem who account this practice as an abomination, have trembled to see the methods of this nature which others have used, and have declared themselves to think the practice to be very evil and corrupt. But all avails little with the abettors of the said practice."

"I can't help but admire that some people take their troubled friends and family to the afflicted children to find out what’s wrong with their sick friends, whether they’re bewitched, who is causing their suffering, and similar questions. It’s true, I don’t see why these afflicted individuals shouldn’t be consulted just like anyone else, as long as it’s based on their natural and ordinary knowledge. But that’s not why these afflicted children are sought out; it’s because they are believed to have supernatural knowledge—a knowledge they supposedly gain by communicating with spirits or evil beings, as they themselves admit. Consulting these afflicted children, as mentioned, seems to me to be a serious wrongdoing, a real abomination that shouldn't be tolerated in New England; yet it’s practiced not only by the less educated and more ignorant folks like Tom and John, but also by many who claim to be part of the better class. This is what intensifies the wrongdoing and makes it even more appalling; and the worst part is that, as sure as I write this, even some of our civil leaders and spiritual teachers—who I believe should condemn and speak out against such sorcery and wickedness—actually support, encourage, and even engage in this very abomination. I know there are several respected gentlemen in Salem who view this practice as an outrage, who have been shaken to see the methods others have employed, and have openly stated that they believe the practice to be highly immoral and corrupt. But all of this means little to those who support this practice."

If Mr. Brattle and the "several worthy gentlemen" to whom he alludes, instead of sitting in "trembling" silence, or whispering in private their disapprobation, or writing letters under the injunction of secrecy, had come boldly out, and denounced the whole thing, in a spirit of true courage, meeting and defying the risk, and carrying the war home, and promptly, upon the ministers, magistrates, and judges, they might have succeeded, and exploded the delusion before it had reached its fatal results.

If Mr. Brattle and the "several worthy gentlemen" he mentions, instead of sitting in "trembling" silence, whispering their disapproval in private, or writing secret letters, had stepped up and openly condemned the whole thing with real courage, facing the risks head-on, and taking the fight directly to the ministers, magistrates, and judges, they might have succeeded and stopped the deception before it had devastating consequences.

He mentions, in the course of his letter, among those persons known by him to disapprove of the proceedings,—

He mentions in his letter that among the people he knows who disapprove of the actions,—

"The Hon. Simon Bradstreet, Esq. (our late governor), the Hon. Thomas Danforth, Esq. (our late deputy-governor), the Rev. Mr. Increase Mather, and the Rev. Mr. Samuel Willard. Major N. Saltonstall, Esq., who was one of the judges, has left the court, and is very much dissatisfied with the proceedings of it. Excepting Mr. Hale, Mr. Noyes, and Mr. Parris, the reverend elders, almost throughout the whole country, are very much dissatisfied. Several of the late justices—viz., Thomas Graves, Esq.; N. Byfield, Esq.; Francis Foxcroft, Esq.—are much dissatisfied; also several of the present justices, and, in particular, some of the Boston justices, were resolved rather to throw up their commissions than be active in disturbing the liberty of Their Majesties' subjects merely on the accusations of these afflicted, possessed children."

"The Hon. Simon Bradstreet, Esq. (our late governor), the Hon. Thomas Danforth, Esq. (our late deputy-governor), the Rev. Mr. Increase Mather, and the Rev. Mr. Samuel Willard. Major N. Saltonstall, Esq., who was one of the judges, has left the court and is very unhappy with how things are being handled. Except for Mr. Hale, Mr. Noyes, and Mr. Parris, almost all the reverend elders across the country are quite dissatisfied. Several of the former justices—namely, Thomas Graves, Esq.; N. Byfield, Esq.; Francis Foxcroft, Esq.—are also very unhappy; as well as several of the current justices, particularly some of the justices in Boston, who were determined to resign rather than take part in infringing on the rights of Their Majesties' subjects based solely on the claims of these afflicted, possessed children."

It is to be observed, that the dissatisfaction was with some of the methods adopted in the proceedings, and not with the prosecutions themselves. Increase Mather and Samuel Willard signed the paper indorsing Deodat Lawson's famous sermon, which surely drove on the prosecutions; and the former expressed, in print, his approbation of his son Cotton's "Wonders of the Invisible World," in which he labors to defend the witchcraft prosecutions, and to make it out that those who suffered were "malefactors."[ii.456] Dr. Increase Mather is understood to have countenanced the burning of Calef's book, some few years afterwards, in the square of the public grounds of Harvard College, of which institution he was then president. It cannot be doubted, however, that both the elder Mather and Mr. Willard had expressed, more or less distinctly, their disapprobation of some of the details of the proceedings. It is honorable to their memories, and shows that the former was not wholly blinded by parental weakness, but willing to express his dissent, in some particulars, from the course of his distinguished son, and that the latter had an independence of character which enabled him to criticise and censure a court in which three of his parishioners sat as judges.

It's worth noting that the dissatisfaction was with some of the methods used in the proceedings, not with the prosecutions themselves. Increase Mather and Samuel Willard signed the document endorsing Deodat Lawson's well-known sermon, which certainly fueled the prosecutions; the former publicly expressed his approval of his son Cotton's "Wonders of the Invisible World," in which he makes an effort to defend the witchcraft prosecutions and argues that those who suffered were "criminals."[ii.456] Dr. Increase Mather is understood to have supported the burning of Calef's book a few years later in the public area of Harvard College, where he was then president. However, it can't be denied that both the elder Mather and Mr. Willard expressed, to some extent, their disapproval of certain details of the proceedings. This is commendable for their legacies and shows that the former was not completely blinded by parental bias, but was willing to express his disagreement in some respects with the actions of his prominent son, and that the latter had a level of independence that allowed him to criticize and condemn a court in which three of his parishioners served as judges.

Brattle relates a story which seems to indicate that Increase Mather sometimes was unguarded enough to express himself with severity against those who gave countenance to the proceedings. "A person from Boston, of no small note, carried up his child to Salem, near twenty miles, on purpose that he might consult the afflicted about his child, which accordingly he did; and the afflicted told him that his child was afflicted by Mrs. Carey and Mrs. Obinson." The "afflicted," in this and some other instances, had struck too high. The magistrates in Boston were unwilling to issue a warrant against Mrs. Obinson, and Mrs. Carey had fled. All that the man got for his pains, in carrying his child to Salem, was a hearty scolding from Increase Mather, who asked him "whether there was not a God in Boston, that he should go to the Devil, in Salem, for advice."

Brattle shares a story that suggests Increase Mather sometimes let his guard down and expressed strong opinions against those who supported the actions taking place. "A well-known person from Boston took his child to Salem, nearly twenty miles away, just to consult the afflicted about his child, which he did. The afflicted told him that his child was affected by Mrs. Carey and Mrs. Obinson." In this and a few other cases, the "afflicted" had aimed too high. The magistrates in Boston were reluctant to issue a warrant for Mrs. Obinson, and Mrs. Carey had already fled. The only reward the man received for bringing his child to Salem was a scolding from Increase Mather, who asked him "if there wasn't a God in Boston, why he would go to the Devil in Salem for advice."

Bradstreet's great age prevented, it is to be supposed, his public appearance in the affair; but his course in a case which occurred twelve years before fully justifies confidence in the statement of Brattle. The tradition has always prevailed, that he looked with disapprobation upon the proceedings, from beginning to end. The course of his sons, and the action taken against them, is quite decisive to the point.

Bradstreet's old age likely kept him from appearing publicly in this situation, but his actions in a case that happened twelve years earlier fully support Brattle's claims. It's been a long-standing belief that he disapproved of the entire process from start to finish. The actions taken by his sons and the repercussions they faced clearly illustrate this point.

Facts have been stated, which show that Thomas Danforth, if he disapproved of the proceedings at Salem, in October, must have undergone a rapid change of sentiments. No irregularities, improprieties, extravagances, or absurdities ever occurred in the examinations or trials greater than he was fully responsible for in April. Having, in the mean while, been superseded in office, he[ii.457] had leisure, in his retirement, to think over the whole matter; and it is satisfactory to find that he saw the error of the ways in which he had gone himself, and led others.

Facts have been presented that indicate Thomas Danforth, if he disagreed with the events in Salem in October, must have experienced a quick change of heart. No irregularities, wrongdoings, excesses, or absurdities occurred in the investigations or trials that surpassed what he was fully accountable for in April. Meanwhile, having been removed from his position, he[ii.457] had the time during his retirement to reflect on the entire situation; and it's encouraging to find that he recognized the mistakes in the path he had taken and led others down.

The result of the inquiry on this point is, that, while some, outside of the village, began early to doubt the propriety of the proceedings in certain particulars, they failed, with the single exception of Robert Pike, to make manly and seasonable resistance. He remonstrated in a writing signed with his own initials, and while the executions were going on. He sent it to one of the judges, and did not shrink from having his action known. No other voice was raised, no one else breasted the storm, while it lasted. The errors which led to the delusion were not attacked from any quarter at any time during that generation, and have remained lurking in many minds, in a greater or less degree, to our day.

The outcome of the inquiry on this issue is that, although some people outside the village started to question the appropriateness of certain actions early on, they failed, except for Robert Pike, to stand up courageously and at the right time. He protested in a letter signed with his initials and sent it to one of the judges while the executions were taking place. He didn’t hesitate to let others know about his actions. No one else spoke up or challenged the situation while it was happening. The mistakes that contributed to the misunderstanding were never addressed by anyone during that time, and they have continued to linger in many minds, to varying degrees, up to the present day.

There were, however, three persons in Salem Village and its immediate vicinity, who deserve to be for ever remembered in this connection. They resisted the fanaticism at the beginning, and defied its wrath. Joseph Putnam was a little more than twenty-two years of age. He probably did not enter into the question of the doctrines then maintained on such subjects, but was led by his natural sagacity and independent spirit to the course he took. In opposition to both his brothers and both his uncles, and all the rest of his powerful and extensive family, he denounced the proceedings through and through. At the very moment when the excitement was at its most terrible stage, and Mr. Parris held the life of every one in his hands, Joseph Putnam expressed his disapprobation of his conduct by carrying his infant child to the church in Salem to be baptized. This was a public and most significant act. For six months, he kept some one of his horses under saddle night and day, without a moment's intermission of the precaution; and he and his family were constantly armed. It was understood, that, if any one attempted to arrest him, it would be at the peril of life. If the marshal should approach with overwhelming force, he would spring to his saddle, and bid defiance to pursuit. Such a course as this, taken by one standing alone against the whole community to which he belonged, shows a degree of courage, spirit, and resolution, which cannot but be held in honor.[ii.458]

There were, however, three individuals in Salem Village and its nearby areas who deserve to be remembered forever in this context. They stood up against the fanaticism from the start and defied its backlash. Joseph Putnam was just over twenty-two years old. He likely didn’t engage deeply with the doctrines of that time, but was guided by his natural insight and independent mindset to take the stance he did. Against both his brothers, his uncles, and the rest of his powerful and extensive family, he condemned the proceedings in every way possible. At the moment when the hysteria was at its worst, and Mr. Parris held the fate of everyone in his hands, Joseph Putnam showed his disapproval of his actions by bringing his infant child to the church in Salem for baptism. This was a public and highly significant act. For six months, he had someone ride one of his horses night and day without breaking the precaution; he and his family were constantly armed. It was understood that if anyone tried to arrest him, it would be at the cost of their life. If the marshal approached with overwhelming force, he would jump onto his horse and dare them to chase him. This kind of bravery, taken by someone standing alone against the whole community he belonged to, shows a level of courage, spirit, and determination that deserves honor.[ii.458]

Martha Corey was an aged Christian professor, of eminently devout habits and principles. It is, indeed, a strange fact, that, in her humble home, surrounded, as it then was, by a wilderness, this husbandman's wife should have reached a height so above and beyond her age. But it is proved conclusively by the depositions adduced against her, that her mind was wholly disenthralled from the errors of that period. She utterly repudiated the doctrines of witchcraft, and expressed herself freely and fearlessly against them. The prayer which this woman made "upon the ladder," and which produced such an impression on those who heard it, was undoubtedly expressive of enlightened piety, worthy of being characterized as "eminent" in its sentiments, and in its demonstration of an innocent heart and life.

Martha Corey was an elderly Christian teacher with deeply rooted beliefs and habits. It’s quite unusual that, in her modest home—which was surrounded by wilderness—this farmer's wife achieved such a level of wisdom that surpassed her age. However, the testimonies against her clearly show that her mind was completely free from the misconceptions of that time. She completely rejected the beliefs in witchcraft and spoke out boldly and openly against them. The prayer she offered "upon the ladder," which made such a strong impact on those who heard it, was undoubtedly a reflection of enlightened faith, deserving to be described as "eminent" in its feelings and in its demonstration of a pure heart and life.

The following paper, in the handwriting of Mr. Parris, is among the court-files. It has not the ordinary form of a deposition, but somehow was sworn to in Court:—

The following paper, written by Mr. Parris, is in the court files. It doesn't follow the usual format of a deposition, but somehow it was sworn to in court:—

"The morning after the examination of Goody Nurse, Sam. Sibley met John Procter about Mr. Phillips's, who called to said Sibley as he was going to said Phillips's, and asked how the folks did at the village. He answered, he heard they were very bad last night, but he had heard nothing this morning. Procter replied, he was going to fetch home his jade; he left her there last night, and had rather given forty shillings than let her come up. Said Sibley asked why he talked so. Procter replied, if they were let alone so, we should all be devils and witches quickly; they should rather be had to the whipping-post; but he would fetch his jade home, and thrash the Devil out of her,—and more to the like purpose, crying, 'Hang them! hang them!'"

The morning after Goody Nurse's examination, Sam Sibley ran into John Procter at Mr. Phillips's place. Sibley asked how things were in the village. Procter said he heard it was really bad last night but hadn’t heard anything this morning. Procter then mentioned he was on his way to fetch his troublesome servant; he had left her there the night before and would have preferred to pay forty shillings rather than let her stay. Sibley asked why he spoke that way. Procter replied that if they were left alone, we’d all quickly become devils and witches; they should be taken to the whipping post instead. He was determined to bring his servant home and 'beat the devil out of her'—and he kept shouting, 'Hang them! hang them!'

In another document, it is stated that Nathaniel Ingersoll and others heard John Procter tell Joseph Pope, "that, if he had John Indian in his custody, he would soon beat the Devil out of him."

In another document, it says that Nathaniel Ingersoll and others heard John Proctor tell Joseph Pope, "that, if he had John Indian in his custody, he would soon beat the Devil out of him."

The declarations thus ascribed to John Procter show that his views of the subject were about right; and it will probably be generally conceded, that the treatment he proposed for Mary Warren and "John Indian," if dealt out to the "afflicted children" generally at the outset, would have prevented all the mischief. A sound thrashing all round, seasonably administered, would have reached the root of the matter; and the story which has now been concluded of Salem witchcraft would never have been told.

The statements attributed to John Procter indicate that his opinions on the matter were pretty accurate; and it's likely that many would agree that the approach he suggested for Mary Warren and "John Indian," if applied to all the "afflicted children" from the beginning, could have avoided all the trouble. A good spanking for everyone, given at the right time, would have addressed the core issue; and the tale that has now wrapped up about Salem witchcraft would never have been told.

When the witchcraft tornado burst upon Andover, it prostrated[ii.459] every thing before it. Accusers and accused were counted by scores, and under the panic of the hour the accused generally confessed. But Andover was the first to recover its senses. On the 12th of October, 1692, seven of its citizens addressed a memorial to the General Court in behalf of their wives and children, praying that they might be released on bond, "to remain as prisoners in their own houses, where they may be more tenderly cared for." They speak of their "distressed condition in prison,—a company of poor distressed creatures as full of inward grief and trouble as they are able to bear up in life withal." They refer to the want of "food convenient" for them, and to "the coldness of the winter season that is coming which may despatch such out of the way that have not been used to such hardships," and represent the ruinous effects of their absence from their families, who were at the same time required to maintain them in jail. On the 18th of October, the two ministers of Andover, Francis Dane and Thomas Barnard, with twenty-four other citizens of Andover, addressed a similar memorial to the Governor and General Court, in which we find the first public expression of condemnation of the proceedings. They call the accusers "distempered persons." They express the opinion that their friends and neighbors have been misrepresented. They bear the strongest testimony in favor of the persons accused, that several of them are members of the church in full communion, of blameless conversation, and "walking as becometh women professing godliness." They relate the methods by which they had been deluded and terrified into confession, and show the worthlessness of those confessions as evidences against them. They use this bold and significant language: "Our troubles we foresee are likely to continue and increase, if other methods be not taken than as yet have been; and we know not who can think himself safe, if the accusations of children and others who are under a diabolical influence shall be received against persons of good fame." On the 2d of January, 1693, the Rev. Francis Dane addressed a letter to a brother clergyman, which is among the files, and was probably designed to reach the eyes of the Court, in which he vindicates Andover against the scandalous reports got up by the accusers, and says that a residence there of forty-four years, and intimacy with the people, enable him to declare that they are not justly chargeable with any[ii.460] such things as witchcraft, charms, or sorceries of any kind. He expresses himself in strong language: "Had charity been put on, the Devil would not have had such an advantage against us, and I believe many innocent persons have been accused and imprisoned." He denounces "the conceit of spectre evidence," and warns against continuing in a course of proceeding that will procure "the divine displeasure." A paper signed by Dudley Bradstreet, Francis Dane, Thomas Barnard, and thirty-eight other men and twelve women of Andover, was presented to the Court at Salem to the same effect.

When the witchcraft panic hit Andover, it flattened[ii.459] everything in its path. Many people were accused and many accused, and in the chaos, the accused often confessed. But Andover was the first to regain its composure. On October 12, 1692, seven citizens sent a petition to the General Court on behalf of their wives and children, asking that they be allowed to stay home under bond, "to remain as prisoners in their own houses, where they may be more tenderly cared for." They talked about their "distressed condition in prison— a group of poor, suffering people, overwhelmed with grief and anguish." They mentioned the lack of "adequate food" and "the coldness of the winter season approaching, which might drive those unused to such hardships into despair," and highlighted the devastating effects of their absence from their families, who were also expected to support them while in jail. On October 18, the two ministers of Andover, Francis Dane and Thomas Barnard, along with twenty-four other residents, presented a similar petition to the Governor and General Court, marking the first public criticism of the proceedings. They referred to the accusers as "disturbed individuals." They believed their friends and neighbors had been misrepresented. They strongly defended the accused, stating that several of them were full members of the church, leading blameless lives, and "living as befits women professing godliness." They detailed how they had been deceived and terrified into confessing, demonstrating that those confessions were worthless as evidence against them. They boldly stated: "Our troubles are likely to continue and worsen if different methods aren't adopted than have been so far; and we don’t know who can feel safe if the accusations of children and others under a malevolent influence are taken seriously against people of good reputation." On January 2, 1693, Rev. Francis Dane wrote a letter to a fellow clergyman, likely intended for the Court, where he defended Andover against the false reports created by the accusers, stating that his forty-four years of living there and his close relationships with the community allowed him to affirm that they weren't justly accused of any[ii.460] witchcraft, charms, or sorcery of any kind. He spoke strongly: "If charity had been exercised, the Devil would not have gained such an advantage against us, and I believe many innocent people have been accused and imprisoned." He criticized "the idea of spectral evidence" and cautioned against continuing with a process that would lead to "divine displeasure." A document signed by Dudley Bradstreet, Francis Dane, Thomas Barnard, and thirty-eight other men and twelve women from Andover was presented to the Court in Salem with the same message.

None of the persons named by Brattle can present so strong a claim to the credit of having opposed the witchcraft fanaticism before the close of the year 1692, as Francis Dane, his colleague Barnard, and the citizens of Andover, who signed memorials to the Legislature on the 18th of October, and to the Court of Trials about the same time. There is, indeed, one conclusive proof that the venerable senior pastor of the Andover Church made his disapprobation of the witchcraft proceedings known at an earlier period, at least in his immediate neighborhood. The wrath of the accusers was concentrated upon him to an unparalleled extent from their entrance into Andover. They did not venture to attack him directly. His venerable age and commanding position made it inexpedient; but they struck as near him, and at as many points, as they dared. They accused, imprisoned, and caused to be convicted and sentenced to death, one of his daughters, Abigail Faulkner. They accused, imprisoned, and brought to trial another, Elizabeth Johnson. They imprisoned, and brought to the sentence of death, his grand-daughter, Elizabeth Johnson, Jr. They cried out against, and caused to be imprisoned, several others of his grandchildren. They accused and imprisoned Deliverance the wife, and also the "man-servant," of his son Nathaniel. There is reason for supposing, as has been stated, that Elizabeth How was the wife of his nephew. Surely, no one was more signalized by their malice and resentment than Francis Dane; and he deserves to be recognized as standing pre-eminent, and, for a time, almost alone, in bold denunciation and courageous resistance of the execrable proceedings of that dark day.

None of the individuals named by Brattle can make as strong a case for opposing the witchcraft hysteria before the end of 1692 as Francis Dane, his colleague Barnard, and the citizens of Andover, who submitted petitions to the Legislature on October 18 and to the Court of Trials around the same time. In fact, there's clear evidence that the respected senior pastor of the Andover Church expressed his disapproval of the witchcraft trials even earlier, at least in his immediate area. The anger of the accusers was focused on him like never before since they entered Andover. They didn't dare to attack him directly. His age and respected status made that impractical, but they targeted those around him as much as they could. They accused, imprisoned, and led to the conviction and sentencing of one of his daughters, Abigail Faulkner. They accused, imprisoned, and brought another daughter, Elizabeth Johnson, to trial. They imprisoned and sentenced his granddaughter, Elizabeth Johnson, Jr., to death. They also accused and had several other grandchildren imprisoned. They accused and imprisoned Deliverance, the wife of his son Nathaniel, as well as his son's "man-servant." There's reason to believe, as mentioned, that Elizabeth How was the wife of his nephew. No one was more clearly targeted by their anger and hatred than Francis Dane; he deserves recognition for standing out, and for a time, almost alone, in his bold condemnation and brave resistance against the atrocious actions of that dark time.

Francis Dane made the following statement, also designed to reach the authorities, which cannot be read by any person of sen[ii.461]sibility without feeling its force, although it made no impression upon the Court at the time:—

Francis Dane made the following statement, aimed at reaching the authorities, which no one with any sense[ii.461] could read without feeling its impact, even though it didn't sway the Court at the time:—

"Concerning my daughter Elizabeth Johnson, I never had ground to suspect her, neither have I heard any other to accuse her, till by spectre evidence she was brought forth; but this I must say, she was weak, and incapacious, fearful, and in that respect I fear she hath falsely accused herself and others. Not long before she was sent for, she spake as to her own particular, that she was sure she was no witch. And for her daughter Elizabeth, she is but simplish at the best; and I fear the common speech, that was frequently spread among us, of their liberty if they would confess, and the like expression used by some, have brought many into a snare. The Lord direct and guide those that are in place, and give us all submissive wills; and let the Lord do with me and mine what seems good in his own eyes!"

"About my daughter Elizabeth Johnson, I never had any reason to suspect her, nor have I heard anyone else accuse her, until she was brought forward with spectral evidence; but I have to say, she was weak-minded, fearful, and because of that, I worry she may have falsely accused herself and others. Not long before she was sent for, she said she was sure she wasn't a witch. As for her daughter Elizabeth, she's not the brightest, and I worry that the common gossip about how they could be free if they confessed, along with similar comments from some people, have led many into a trap. May the Lord guide those in authority, grant us all willing hearts, and let the Lord do with me and my family what seems best in His eyes!"

There is nothing in the proceedings of the Special Court of Oyer and Terminer more disgraceful than the fact, that the regular Court of Superior Judicature, the next year, after the public mind had been rescued from the delusion, and the spectral evidence repudiated, proceeded to try these and other persons, and, in the face of such statements as the foregoing, actually condemned to death Elizabeth Johnson, Jr.

There’s nothing in the actions of the Special Court of Oyer and Terminer more shameful than the fact that the regular Court of Superior Judicature, the following year, after the public had been freed from the misconception and the use of spectral evidence was rejected, went ahead to try these and other people and, despite such statements as those above, actually sentenced Elizabeth Johnson, Jr. to death.

It is remarkable that Brattle does not mention Calef. The understanding has been that they acted in concert, and that Brattle had a hand in getting up some of Calef's arguments. The silence of Brattle is not, upon the whole, at all inconsistent with their mutual action and alliance. As Calef was more perfectly unembarrassed, without personal relations to the clergy and others in high station, and not afraid to stand in the gap, it was thought best to let him take the fire of Cotton Mather. His name had not been connected with the matter in the public apprehension. He was a merchant of Boston, and a son of Robert Calef of Roxbury. His attention was called to the proceedings which originated in Salem Village; and his strong faculties and moral courage enabled him to become the most efficient opponent, in his day, of the system of false reasoning upon which the prosecutions rested. He prepared several able papers in different forms, in which he discussed the subject with great ability, and treated Cotton Mather and all others whom he regarded as instrumental in precipitating the community into the fatal tragedy,[ii.462] with the greatest severity of language and force of logic, holding up the whole procedure to merited condemnation. They were first printed, at London, in 1700, in a small quarto volume, under the title of "More Wonders of the Invisible World." This publication burst like a bomb-shell upon all who had been concerned in promoting the witchcraft prosecutions. Cotton Mather was exasperated to the highest pitch. He says in his diary: "He sent this vile volume to London to be published, and the book is printed; and the impression is, this day week, arrived here. The books that I have sent over into England, with a design to glorify the Lord Jesus Christ, are not published, but strangely delayed; and the books that are sent over to vilify me, and render me incapable to glorify the Lord Jesus Christ,—these are published." Calef's writings gave a shock to Mather's influence, from which it never recovered.

It's surprising that Brattle doesn’t mention Calef. The general belief has been that they worked together, and that Brattle helped develop some of Calef's arguments. Brattle’s silence isn’t really inconsistent with their joint actions and alliance. Since Calef had fewer personal ties to the clergy and others in power, and wasn’t afraid to speak out, it was decided that he should take on Cotton Mather. His name wasn’t linked to the issue in the public mind. He was a Boston merchant and the son of Robert Calef from Roxbury. He became aware of the events that started in Salem Village; his strong intellect and moral courage made him the most effective opponent of the flawed reasoning behind the prosecutions in his time. He wrote several compelling papers in different formats, discussing the issue with great skill and treating Cotton Mather and others he believed were instrumental in causing the community’s tragic situation with harsh language and strong logic, exposing the entire process to deserved criticism. They were first published in London in 1700 in a small quarto volume titled "More Wonders of the Invisible World." This release hit those involved in promoting the witchcraft trials like a bombshell. Cotton Mather was furious. He wrote in his diary: "He sent this vile volume to London to be published, and the book is printed; and the impression is, this day week, arrived here. The books that I have sent over into England, intending to glorify the Lord Jesus Christ, are not published but strangely delayed; and the books that are sent over to vilify me, and make me unable to glorify the Lord Jesus Christ—these are published." Calef’s writings dealt a blow to Mather’s influence from which it never recovered.

Great difficulty has been experienced in drawing the story out in its true chronological sequence. The effect produced upon the public mind, when it became convinced that the proceedings had been wrong, and innocent blood shed, was a universal disposition to bury the recollection of the whole transaction in silence, and, if possible, oblivion. This led to a suppression and destruction of the ordinary materials of history. Papers were abstracted from the files, documents in private hands were committed to the flames, and a chasm left in the records of churches and public bodies. The journal of the Special Court of Oyer and Terminer is nowhere to be found. Hutchinson appears to have had access to it. It cannot well be supposed to have been lost by fire or other accident, because the records of the regular Court, up to the very time when the Special Court came into operation, and from the time when it expired, are preserved in order. A portion of the papers connected with the trials have come down in a miscellaneous, scattered, and dilapidated state, in the offices of the Clerk of the Courts in the County of Essex, and of the Secretary of the Commonwealth. By far the larger part have been abstracted, of which a few have been deposited, by parties into whose hands they had happened to come, with the Massachusetts Historical Society in Boston and the Essex Institute at Salem. The records of the parish of Salem Village, although exceedingly well kept before and after 1692 by Thomas Putnam, are in another hand for that[ii.463] year, very brief, and make no reference whatever to the witchcraft transactions. This general desire to obliterate the memory of the calamity has nearly extinguished tradition. It is more scanty and less reliable than on any other event at an equal distance in the past. A subject on which men avoided to speak soon died out of knowledge. The localities of many very interesting incidents cannot be identified. This is very observable, and peculiarly remarkable as to places in the now City of Salem. The reminiscences floating about are vague, contradictory, and few in number. In a community of uncommon intelligence, composed, to a greater degree perhaps than almost any other, of families that have been here from the first, very inquisitive for knowledge, and always imbued with the historical spirit, it is truly surprising how little has been borne down, by speech and memory, in the form of anecdote, personal traits, or local incidents, of this most extraordinary and wonderful occurrence of such world-wide celebrity. Almost all that we know is gleaned from the offices of the Registry of Deeds and Wills.[J]

It has been very challenging to lay out the story in its true chronological order. The impact on the public mindset, once it became clear that the proceedings had been unjust and innocent lives lost, was a widespread urge to bury the memory of the entire event in silence, and if possible, to forget it altogether. This resulted in the suppression and destruction of the usual materials of history. Papers were removed from the archives, documents in private hands were burned, and gaps were left in the records of churches and public organizations. The journal of the Special Court of Oyer and Terminer is nowhere to be found. Hutchinson seems to have had access to it. It’s hard to believe it was lost to fire or some other accident, as the records of the regular Court, from just before the Special Court started operating to when it ended, are preserved in order. Some trial-related papers have survived in a mixed, scattered, and damaged condition in the offices of the Clerk of the Courts in Essex County and the Secretary of the Commonwealth. The majority have been removed, with a few having been placed by individuals who acquired them, in the Massachusetts Historical Society in Boston and the Essex Institute in Salem. The records of the parish of Salem Village, although very well preserved by Thomas Putnam before and after 1692, are in another hand for that year, very brief, and make no mention of the witchcraft events. This overall wish to erase the memory of the tragedy has nearly wiped out tradition. What little remains is less reliable than for any other event from a similar distance in the past. A topic that people avoided discussing soon faded from knowledge. The exact locations of many fascinating incidents can’t be identified. This is particularly noticeable and remarkable regarding places in what is now the City of Salem. The memories that exist are vague, contradictory, and few in number. In a community known for its intelligence, made up largely of families that have been here since the beginning, who are keen for knowledge and always driven by a sense of history, it’s truly surprising how little anecdotal information, personal details, or local incidents have been passed down about this extraordinary and significant event with such global renown. Almost everything we know comes from the offices of the Registry of Deeds and Wills.[J]

It is remarkable, that the marshal and sheriff, both quite young men, so soon followed their victims to the other world. Jonathan Walcot, the father of Mary, and next neighbor to Parris, removed from the village, and died at Salem in 1699. Thomas Putnam and Ann his wife, the parents of the "afflicted child," who acted so extraordinary a part in the proceedings and of whom further mention will be made, died in 1699,—the former on the 24th of May, the latter on the 8th of June,—at the respective ages of forty-seven and thirty-eight.[K] There are indications that they saw the errors into which they had been led. If their eyes were at all opened to this view, how terrible must have been the thought of the cruel wrongs and wide-spread ruin of which they had been the cause! Of the circumstances of their deaths, or their last words and sentiments, we have no knowledge. It is not strange, that, in addition to all her woes, the death of her husband was more than Mrs. Ann Putnam could bear, and that[ii.465] she followed him so soon to the grave. Of the other accusers, we have but little information. Elizabeth Booth was married to Israel Shaw about the year 1700. Mary Walcot was married, somewhere between 1692 and 1697, to a person belonging to Woburn, whose name is torn or worn off from Mr. Parris's records. Of the other "afflicted children" nothing is known, beyond the fact, that the Act of the Legislature of the Province, reversing the judgments, and taking off the attainder from those who were sentenced to death in 1692, has this paragraph: "Some of the principal accusers and witnesses in those dark and severe prosecutions have since discovered themselves to be persons of profligate and vicious conversation;" and Calef speaks of them as "vile varlets," and asserts that their reputations were not without spot before, and that subsequently they became abandoned to open and shameless vice.

It’s striking that both the marshal and sheriff, who were quite young, quickly followed their victims to the afterlife. Jonathan Walcot, Mary’s father and Parris’s neighbor, left the village and died in Salem in 1699. Thomas Putnam and his wife Ann, the parents of the "afflicted child" who played such an extraordinary role in the events (further mention will be made of them), both died in 1699—Thomas on May 24 and Ann on June 8—at the ages of forty-seven and thirty-eight, respectively.[K] There are signs that they recognized the mistakes they had made. If they did see things this way, how awful it must have been to think about the painful wrongs and widespread destruction they had caused! We don’t know the details of their deaths, nor their last words or feelings. It’s not surprising that Mrs. Ann Putnam couldn’t handle the death of her husband on top of all her other troubles, and that[ii.465] she passed away soon after. We have very little information about the other accusers. Elizabeth Booth married Israel Shaw around 1700. Mary Walcot married someone from Woburn between 1692 and 1697, but the name has worn away from Mr. Parris’s records. We know nothing about the other "afflicted children," apart from the fact that the Provincial Legislature’s act to reverse the judgments and lift the attainder from those sentenced to death in 1692 includes this statement: "Some of the main accusers and witnesses in those dark and harsh prosecutions have since revealed themselves to be people of corrupt and immoral behavior;" and Calef refers to them as "vile varlets," claiming their reputations were already questionable before and that later they became completely given over to open and shameless vice.

A very considerable number of the people left the place. John Shepard and Samuel Sibley sold their lands, and went elsewhere; as did Peter Cloyse, who never brought his family to the village after his wife's release from prison. Edward and Sarah Bishop sold their estates, and took up their abode at Rehoboth. Some of the Raymond family removed to Middleborough. The Haynes family emigrated to New Jersey. No mention is afterwards found of other families in the record-books. The descendants of Thomas and Edward Putnam, in the next generation, were mostly dis[ii.466]persed to other places; but those of Joseph remained on his lands, and have occupied his homestead to this day. It is a singular circumstance, that some of the spots where, particularly, the great mischief was brewed, are, and long have been, deserted. Where the parsonage stood, with its barn and garden and well and pathways, is now a bare and rugged field, without a vestige of its former occupancy, except a few broken bricks that mark the site of the house. The same is the case of the homestead of Jonathan Walcot. It was in these two families that the affair began and was matured. The spots where several others, who figured in the proceedings, lived, have ceased to be occupied; and the only signs of former habitation are hollows in the ground, fragments of pottery, and heaps of stones denoting the location of cellars and walls. Here and there, where houses and other structures once stood, the blight still rests.

A significant number of people left the area. John Shepard and Samuel Sibley sold their lands and moved away; so did Peter Cloyse, who never brought his family to the village after his wife's release from prison. Edward and Sarah Bishop sold their properties and settled in Rehoboth. Some members of the Raymond family relocated to Middleborough. The Haynes family moved to New Jersey. No other families are mentioned later in the records. The descendants of Thomas and Edward Putnam, in the next generation, were mostly scattered to other places, but Joseph's descendants remained on his land and have occupied his homestead to this day. It's peculiar that some of the locations where significant trouble originated are now, and have long been, abandoned. Where the parsonage once stood, along with its barn, garden, well, and pathways, is now a barren and rugged field, with only a few broken bricks marking the site of the house. The same situation applies to Jonathan Walcot's homestead. The situation began and unfolded within these two families. The locations where several others involved in the events lived have also become unoccupied, with signs of past habitation reduced to depressions in the ground, fragments of pottery, and piles of stones indicating where cellars and walls once were. In places where houses and other structures used to be, the desolation still lingers.

Some circumstances relating to the personal history of those who experienced the greatest misery during the prevalence of the dreadful fanaticism, and were left to mourn over its victims, have happened to be preserved in records and documents on file. On the 30th of November, 1699, Margaret Jacobs was married to John Foster. She belonged to Mr. Noyes's parish; but the recollection of his agency in pushing on proceedings which carried in their train the execution of her aged grandfather, the exile of her father, the long imprisonment of her mother and herself, with the prospect of a violent and shameful death hanging over them every hour, and, above all, her own wretched abandonment of truth and conscience for a while, probably under his persuasion, made it impossible for her to think of being married by him. Mr. Greene was known to sympathize with those who had suffered, and the couple went to the village to be united. Some years afterwards, when the church of the Middle Precinct, now South Danvers, was organized, John and Margaret Foster, among the first, took their children there for baptism; and their descendants are numerous, in this neighborhood and elsewhere. Margaret, the widow of John Willard, married William Towne. Elizabeth, the widow of John Procter, married, subsequently to 1696, a person named Richards. Edward Bishop, the husband of Bridget, a few years afterwards was appointed guardian of Susannah Mason, the only child of Christian, who was the only child of Bridget by her[ii.467] former husband Thomas Oliver. Bishop seems to have invested the money of his ward in the lot at the extreme end of Forrester Street, where it connects with Essex Street, bounded by Forrester Street on the north and east, and Essex Street on the south. This was the property of Susannah when she married John Becket, Jr. Bishop appears to have continued his business of a sawyer to a very advanced age, and died in Salem, in 1705.

Some details about the personal history of those who suffered the most during the terrible fanaticism and were left to mourn its victims have been preserved in records and documents. On November 30, 1699, Margaret Jacobs married John Foster. She was part of Mr. Noyes's parish, but the memory of his involvement in the actions that led to the execution of her elderly grandfather, the exile of her father, the long imprisonment of her mother and herself, and the constant threat of a violent and shameful death looming over them made it impossible for her to consider being married by him. Mr. Greene was known to sympathize with those who had suffered, so the couple went to the village to get married. Some years later, when the church of the Middle Precinct, now South Danvers, was established, John and Margaret Foster were among the first to bring their children there for baptism; their descendants are now numerous in this area and beyond. Margaret, the widow of John Willard, married William Towne. Elizabeth, the widow of John Procter, later married a man named Richards after 1696. A few years later, Edward Bishop, the husband of Bridget, was appointed guardian of Susannah Mason, the only child of Christian, who was also the only child of Bridget from her former husband, Thomas Oliver. Bishop seems to have invested his ward's money in the lot at the far end of Forrester Street, where it connects with Essex Street, bordered by Forrester Street to the north and east, and Essex Street to the south. This property belonged to Susannah when she married John Becket, Jr. Bishop appears to have continued working as a sawyer into very old age and died in Salem in 1705.

Sarah Nurse, about two years after her mother's death, married Michael Bowden, of Marblehead; and they occupied her father's house, in the town of Salem, of which he had retained the possession. His family having thus all been married off, Francis Nurse gave up his homestead to his son Samuel, and divided his remaining property among his four sons and four daughters. He made no formal deed or will, but drew up a paper, dated Dec. 4, 1694, describing the distribution of the estate, and what he expected of his children. He gave them immediate occupancy and possession of their respective portions. The provision made by the old man for his comfort, and the conditions required of his children, are curious. They give an interesting insight of the life of a rural patriarch. He reserved his "great chair and cushion;" a great chest; his bed and bedding; wardrobe, linen and woollen; a pewter pot; one mare, bridle, saddle, and sufficient fodder; the whole of the crop of corn, both Indian and English, he had made that year. The children were to discharge all the debts of his estate, pay him fourteen pounds a year, and contribute equally, as much more as might be necessary for his comfortable maintenance, and also to his "decent burial." The labors of his life had closed. He had borne the heaviest burden that can be laid on the heart of a good man. He found rest, and sought solace and support, in the society and love of his children and their families, as he rode from house to house on the road he had opened, by which they all communicated with each other. The parish records show that he continued his interest in its affairs. He lived just long enough to behold sure evidence that justice would be done to the memory of those who suffered, and the authors of the mischief be consigned to the condemnation of mankind. The tide, upon which Mr. Parris had ridden to the destruction of so many, had turned; and it was becoming apparent to all, that[ii.468] he would soon be compelled to disappear from his ministry in the village, before the awakening resentment of the people and the ministers. Francis Nurse died on the 22d of November, 1695, seventy-seven years of age. His sons with their wives, and his daughters with their husbands, went into the Probate Court with the paper before described, and unanimously requested the judge to have the estate divided according to its terms. This is conclusive proof that the father had been just and wise in his arrangements, and that true fraternal love and harmony pervaded the whole family. The descendants, under the names of Bowden, Tarbell, and Russell, are dispersed in various parts of the country: those under the name of Preston, while some have gone elsewhere, have been ever since, and still are, among the most respectable and honored citizens of the village. Some of the name of Nurse have also remained, and worthily represent and perpetuate it.

Sarah Nurse, about two years after her mother passed away, married Michael Bowden from Marblehead, and they moved into her father's house in Salem, which he had kept. With his family all settled, Francis Nurse handed over his homestead to his son Samuel and split his remaining assets among his four sons and four daughters. He didn’t create a formal deed or will but wrote a document on December 4, 1694, outlining how he wanted to distribute his estate and what he expected from his children. He granted them immediate occupancy and possession of their respective shares. The provisions he made for his comfort, along with the expectations he set for his children, are quite interesting. They provide a unique look at the life of a rural patriarch. He kept his "great chair and cushion," a big chest, his bed and bedding, wardrobe, linens and woolens, a pewter pot, one mare with a bridle and saddle, and enough fodder. He also retained all the crops of corn he had harvested that year, both Indian and English. His children were to take care of all his estate's debts, pay him fourteen pounds a year, and contribute equally to any additional funds necessary for his comfortable living and for his "decent burial." His life's work was complete. He had shouldered the heaviest burden a good man can face. He found peace and support in the company and love of his children and their families as he traveled from house to house along the road he had created for their connections. The parish records show that he still cared about its matters. He lived just long enough to see clear evidence that justice would be served for those who had suffered and that those responsible for the harm would face society's condemnation. The tide that had benefited Mr. Parris, leading to the downfall of many, had turned; it was becoming clear to everyone that he would soon have to leave his ministry in the village due to the rising anger of the people and the ministers. Francis Nurse died on November 22, 1695, at the age of seventy-seven. His sons with their wives, and his daughters with their husbands, went to the Probate Court with the previously mentioned document and unanimously asked the judge to divide the estate according to its terms. This proves that the father had been fair and wise in his plans and that genuine family love and harmony existed throughout. The descendants, now bearing the names Bowden, Tarbell, and Russell, are spread across various parts of the country. Those under the name Preston have remained, and have consistently been among the most respected and honored citizens of the village. Some members of the Nurse family have also stayed and continue to embody and carry on the family name.

I have spoken of the tide's beginning to turn in 1695. Sure indications to that effect were then quite visible. It had begun far down in the public mind before the prosecutions ceased; but it was long before the change became apparent on the surface. It was long before men found utterance for their feelings.

I mentioned the tide starting to turn in 1695. Clear signs of this were pretty visible at that time. It had begun deep in the public's mindset before the prosecutions stopped; however, it took a while for the change to show on the surface. It took time before people found the words to express their feelings.

Persons living at a distance have been accustomed, and are to this day, to treat the Salem-witchcraft transaction in the spirit of lightsome ridicule, and to make it the subject of jeers and jokes. Not so those who have lived on, or near, the fatal scene. They have ever regarded it with solemn awe and profound sorrow, and shunned the mention, and even the remembrance, of its details. This prevented an immediate expression of feeling, and delayed movements in the way of attempting a reparation of the wrongs that had been committed. The heart sickened, the lips were dumb, at the very thought of those wrongs. Reparation was impossible. The dead were beyond its reach. The sorrows and anguish of survivors were also beyond its reach. The voice of sympathy was felt to be unworthy to obtrude upon sensibilities that had been so outraged. The only refuge left for the individuals who had been bereaved, and for the body of the people who realized that innocent blood was on all their hands, was in humble and soul-subdued silence, and in prayers for forgiveness from God and from each other.[ii.469]

People living far away have always treated the Salem witch trials with lighthearted mockery, making jokes and jeers about it. But that’s not the case for those who lived in or near the tragic events. They have always viewed it with deep respect and sorrow, avoiding mentions or even memories of what happened. This led to a hesitance in expressing feelings and postponed efforts to make amends for the wrongs committed. The thought of those injustices left people feeling sick at heart and silent. Making amends was impossible. The dead could not be brought back. The pain and suffering of the survivors were also beyond repair. Showing sympathy felt inappropriate in the face of such deep offense. The only comfort left for those who had lost loved ones, and for the community that recognized their shared guilt in the deaths of the innocent, was to remain in humble, subdued silence and to pray for forgiveness from God and from one another.[ii.469]

It was long before the public mind recovered from its paralysis. No one knew what ought to be said or done, the tragedy had been so awful. The parties who had acted in it were so numerous, and of such standing, including almost all the most eminent and honored leaders of the community from the bench, the bar, the magistracy, the pulpit, the medical faculty, and in fact all classes and descriptions of persons; the mysteries connected with the accusers and confessors; the universal prevalence of the legal, theological, and philosophical theories that had led to the proceedings; the utter impossibility of realizing or measuring the extent of the calamity; and the general shame and horror associated with the subject in all minds; prevented any open movement. Then there was the dread of rekindling animosities which time was silently subduing, and nothing but time could fully extinguish. Slowly, however, the remembrance of wrongs was becoming obscured. Neighborhood and business relations were gradually reconciling the estranged. Offices of civility, courtesy, and good-will were reviving; social and family intimacies and connections were taking effect and restoring the community to a natural and satisfactory condition. Every day, the sentiment was sinking deeper in the public mind, that something was required to be done to avert the displeasure of Heaven from a guilty land. But while some were ready to forgive, and some had the grace to ask to be forgiven, any general movement in this direction was obstructed by difficulties hard to be surmounted.

It took a long time for the public to recover from its shock. No one knew what should be said or done; the tragedy was just too terrible. The number of people involved was vast, and they held significant positions, including nearly all the most respected leaders of the community from the courts, legal profession, law enforcement, church, medical field, and every other group imaginable. The secrets behind the accusers and confessors, along with the widespread legal, religious, and philosophical ideas that had fueled the events, made it impossible to fully grasp the extent of the disaster. The deep shame and horror surrounding the topic made any open discussion difficult. There was also the fear of reigniting old hostilities that time was slowly easing and could only be fully resolved with more time. However, memories of past wrongs were slowly fading. Neighborhoods and business relationships started to mend, civilities, courtesies, and goodwill began to re-emerge, and social and family ties were being restored, helping the community return to a natural and healthier state. Each day, the feeling grew stronger in the public consciousness that something needed to be done to avoid incurring the wrath of a divinity upon a guilty nation. Yet, while some were willing to forgive and others were gracious enough to seek forgiveness, any widespread effort in this direction faced significant challenges.

The wrongs committed were so remediless, the outrages upon right, character, and life, had been so shocking, that it was expecting too much from the ordinary standard of humanity to demand a general oblivion. On the other hand, so many had been responsible for them, and their promoters embraced such a great majority of all the leading classes of society, that it was impossible to call them to account. Dr. Bentley describes the condition of the community, in some brief and pregnant sentences, characteristic of his peculiar style: "As soon as the judges ceased to condemn, the people ceased to accuse.... Terror at the violence and guilt of the proceedings succeeded instantly to the conviction of blind zeal; and what every man had encouraged all professed to abhor. Few dared to blame other men, because[ii.470] few were innocent. The guilt and the shame became the portion of the country, while Salem had the infamy of being the place of the transactions.... After the public mind became quiet, few things were done to disturb it. But a diminished population, the injury done to religion, and the distress of the aggrieved, were seen and felt with the greatest sorrow.... Every place was the subject of some direful tale. Fear haunted every street. Melancholy dwelt in silence in every place, after the sun retired. Business could not, for some time, recover its former channels; and the innocent suffered with the guilty."

The wrongs committed were so impossible to fix, the attacks on right, character, and life had been so shocking, that it was asking too much of humanity to expect everyone to forget. On the other hand, so many people were responsible, and their supporters included a large majority of the leading classes of society, making it impossible to hold them accountable. Dr. Bentley describes the state of the community in a few powerful sentences, typical of his unique style: "As soon as the judges stopped condemning, the people stopped accusing.... Fear of the violence and guilt of the actions quickly replaced the conviction of blind zeal; and what every person had encouraged, all claimed to despise. Few dared to blame others, because[ii.470] few were innocent. The guilt and shame became the legacy of the country, while Salem bore the infamy of being the site of these events.... Once the public mind calmed down, few things were done to upset it. But a smaller population, the damage done to religion, and the suffering of those wronged were felt with deep sorrow.... Every place had its own terrible story. Fear haunted every street. Sadness lingered in silence everywhere, after the sun went down. Business could not recover its previous flow for some time; and the innocent suffered alongside the guilty."

While the subject was felt to be too dark and awful to be spoken of, and most men desired to bury it in silence, occasionally the slumbering fires would rekindle, and the flames of animosity burst forth. The recollection of the part he had acted, and the feelings of many towards him in consequence, rendered the situation of the sheriff often quite unpleasant; and the resentment of some broke out in a shameful demonstration at his death, which occurred early in 1697. Mr. English, representing that class who had suffered under his official hands in 1692, having a business demand upon him, in the shape of a suit for debt, stood ready to seize his body after it was prepared for interment, and prevented the funeral at the time. The body was temporarily deposited on the sheriff's own premises. There were, it is probable, from time to time, other less noticeable occurrences manifesting the long continued existence of the unhappy state of feeling engendered in 1692. There were really two parties in the community, generally both quiescent, but sometimes coming into open collision; the one exasperated by the wrongs they and their friends had suffered, the other determined not to allow those who had acted in conducting the prosecutions to be called to account for what they had done. After the lapse of thirty years, and long subsequent to the death of Mr. Noyes, Mr. English was prosecuted for having said that Mr. Noyes had murdered Rebecca Nurse and John Procter.

While the topic was seen as too dark and terrible to discuss, and most people wanted to bury it in silence, every now and then, the smoldering tensions would flare up, and hostility would erupt. The memory of his actions and how many felt about him made the sheriff's situation quite uncomfortable; the anger from some people boiled over in a disgraceful outburst at his funeral, which took place early in 1697. Mr. English, representing those who had suffered under his authority in 1692, had a legal claim against him in the form of a debt lawsuit and was prepared to seize his body after it was readied for burial, causing the funeral to be interrupted at that time. The body was temporarily placed on the sheriff's own property. Over time, there were likely other less obvious events that showed the ongoing unrest stemming from 1692. There were essentially two factions in the community, usually quiet but occasionally clashing openly; one side was angry about the injustices they and their loved ones faced, while the other was determined not to hold accountable those who had been involved in the prosecutions. After thirty years had passed, and long after Mr. Noyes had died, Mr. English faced charges for claiming that Mr. Noyes had murdered Rebecca Nurse and John Procter.

It has been suggested, that the bearing of the executive officers of the law towards the prisoners was often quite harsh. This resulted from the general feeling, in which these officials would have been likely to sympathize, of the peculiarly execrable nature of the crime charged upon the accused, and from the danger that[ii.471] might attend the manifestation of any appearance of kindly regard for them. So far as the seizure of goods is considered, or the exaction of fees, the conduct of the officials was in conformity with usage and instructions. The system of the administration of the law, compared with our times, was stern, severe, and barbarous. The whole tone of society was more unfeeling. Philanthropy had not then extended its operations, or directed its notice, to the prison. Sheriff Corwin was quite a young man, being but twenty-six years of age at the time of his appointment. He probably acted under the advice of his relatives and connections on the bench. I think there is no evidence of any particular cruelty evinced by him. The arrests, examinations, and imprisonments had taken place under his predecessor, Marshal Herrick, who continued in the service as his deputy.

It has been suggested that the behavior of the law's executive officers towards the prisoners was often quite harsh. This stemmed from the widespread belief, which these officials likely shared, about the particularly awful nature of the crimes the accused were charged with, and from the risk that any sign of compassion towards them might lead to trouble. In terms of seizing goods or collecting fees, the officials acted according to standard practices and instructions. The way the law was administered back then was much harsher, stricter, and more barbaric compared to today. Society as a whole was less compassionate. Philanthropy had not yet reached out to prisons. Sheriff Corwin was quite young, only twenty-six years old at the time of his appointment. He likely took advice from his family and others in the courtroom. I don't think there’s any evidence of him showing particular cruelty. The arrests, interrogations, and incarcerations happened under his predecessor, Marshal Herrick, who continued serving as his deputy.

That individual, indeed, had justly incurred the resentment of the sufferers and their friends, by eager zeal in urging on the prosecutions, perpetual officiousness, and unwarrantable interference against the prisoners at the preliminary examinations. The odium originally attached to the marshal seems to have been transferred to his successor, and the whole was laid at the door of the sheriff. Marshal Herrick does not appear to have been connected with Joseph Herrick, who lived on what is now called Cherry Hill, but was a man of an entirely different stamp. He was thirty-four years of age, and had not been very long in the country. John Dunton speaks of meeting him in Salem, in 1686, and describes him as a "very tall, handsome man, very regular and devout in his attendance at church, religious without bigotry, and having every man's good word." His impatient activity against the victims of the witchcraft delusion wrought a great change in the condition of this popular and "handsome" man, as is seen in a petition presented by him, Dec. 8, 1692; to "His Excellency Sir William Phips, Knight, Captain-general and Governor of Their Majesties' Territories and Dominions of Massachusetts Bay in New England; and to the Honorable William Stoughton, Esq., Deputy-Governor; and to the rest of the Honored Council." It begins thus: "The petition of your poor servant, George Herrick, most humbly showeth." After recounting his great and various services "for the term of nine months," as marshal or deputy-sheriff in apprehending many prisoners, and conveying[ii.472] them "unto prison and from prison to prison," he complains that his whole time had been taken up so that he was incapable of getting any thing for the maintenance of his "poor family:" he further states that he had become so impoverished that necessity had forced him to lay down his place; and that he must certainly come to want, if not in some measure supplied. "Therefore I humbly beseech Your Honors to take my case and condition so far into consideration, that I may have some supply this hard winter, that I and my poor children may not be destitute of sustenance, and so inevitably perish; for I have been bred a gentleman, and not much used to work, and am become despicable in these hard times." He concludes by declaring, that he is not "weary of serving his king and country," nor very scrupulous as to the kind of service; for he promises that "if his habitation" could thereby be "graced with plenty in the room of penury, there shall be no services too dangerous and difficult, but your poor petitioner will gladly accept, and to the best of my power accomplish. I shall wholly lay myself at Your Honorable feet for relief." Marshal Herrick died in 1695.

That person had rightfully earned the anger of the victims and their families by being overly eager in pushing for prosecutions, constantly meddling, and unjustly interfering with the prisoners during the initial hearings. The negative feelings initially aimed at the marshal seemed to shift to his successor, and everything was blamed on the sheriff. Marshal Herrick doesn’t seem to be related to Joseph Herrick, who lived on what is now known as Cherry Hill; he was a very different kind of man. He was thirty-four years old and hadn’t been in the country for long. John Dunton mentions meeting him in Salem in 1686 and describes him as "a very tall, handsome man, very regular and devout in his attendance at church, religious without being fanatical, and having everyone’s good word." His restless activity against the victims of the witchcraft hysteria dramatically changed the situation for this popular and "handsome" man, as seen in a petition he presented on December 8, 1692, to "His Excellency Sir William Phips, Knight, Captain-general and Governor of Their Majesties' Territories and Dominions of Massachusetts Bay in New England; and to the Honorable William Stoughton, Esq., Deputy-Governor; and to the rest of the Honored Council." The petition starts: “The petition of your poor servant, George Herrick, most humbly shows.” After detailing his significant and varied contributions "for the term of nine months" as marshal or deputy-sheriff in arresting many prisoners and transferring them "to prison and from prison," he complains that he had no time left to earn anything for the upkeep of his "poor family." He further explains that he had become so impoverished that necessity forced him to resign his position, and he would certainly face destitution if he wasn’t helped somehow. "Therefore I humbly ask Your Honors to consider my situation so that I may receive some support this harsh winter, so that I and my poor children will not be without food and inevitably die; for I have been raised as a gentleman and am not accustomed to hard work, and I have become pitiable in these tough times." He concludes by insisting he is not "tired of serving his king and country," nor very particular about the kind of service; he promises that "if my home" could be "filled with plenty instead of poverty, there will be no tasks too dangerous or difficult that your poor petitioner will not gladly accept and strive to accomplish. I shall entirely place myself at Your Honorable feet for aid." Marshal Herrick died in 1695.

But, while this feeling was spreading among the people, the government were doing their best to check it. There was great apprehension, that, if allowed to gather force, it would burst over all barriers, that no limit would be put to its demands for the restoration of property seized by the officers of the law, and that it would wreak vengeance upon all who had been engaged in the prosecutions. Under the influence of this fear, the following attempt was made to shield the sheriff of the county from prosecutions for damages by those whose relatives had suffered:—

But while this feeling was spreading among the people, the government was doing its best to stop it. There was great worry that if it gained momentum, it would break through all barriers, that there would be no end to its demands for the return of property taken by law officers, and that it would seek revenge on everyone involved in the prosecutions. Fueled by this fear, the following attempt was made to protect the county sheriff from liability for damages by those whose relatives had suffered:—

"At a Superior Court of Judicature, Court of Assize, and General Jail Delivery, held at Ipswich, the fifteenth day of May, anno Domini 1694.—Present, William Stoughton, Esq., Chief-justice; Thomas Danforth, Esq.; Samuel Sewall, Esq.

At a Superior Court of Judicature, Court of Assize, and General Jail Delivery, held at Ipswich, on May 15, 1694.—Present, William Stoughton, Esq., Chief Justice; Thomas Danforth, Esq.; Samuel Sewall, Esq.

"This Court, having adjusted the accounts of George Corwin, Esq., high-sheriff for the county of Essex, do allow the same to be just and true; and that there remains a balance due to him, the said Corwin, of £67. 6s. 4d., which is also allowed unto him; and, pursuant to law, this Court doth fully, clearly, and absolutely acquit and discharge him,[ii.473] the said George Corwin, his heirs, executors, and administrators, lands and tenements, goods and chattels, of and from all manner of sum or sums of money, goods or chattels levied, received, or seized, and of all debts, duties, and demands which are or may be charged in his, the said Corwin's, accounts, or which may be imposed by reason of the sheriff's office, or any thing by him done by virtue thereof, or in the execution of the same, from the time he entered into the said office, to this Court."

"This Court, having reviewed the accounts of George Corwin, Esq., high sheriff for Essex County, finds them to be accurate. There remains a balance owed to him, Mr. Corwin, of £67. 6s. 4d., which is also granted to him. In accordance with the law, this Court fully and completely releases and discharges him,[ii.473] Mr. George Corwin, along with his heirs, executors, and administrators, from all claims related to any money, goods, or property that were collected, received, or seized, as well as from any debts, duties, or demands that might be associated with his accounts, or that may arise due to his role as sheriff, or any actions taken under that capacity, from the time he took office until now."

This extraordinary attempt of the Court to close the doors of justice beforehand against suits for damages did not seem to have any effect; for Mr. English compelled the executors of the sheriff to pay over to him £60. 3s.

This unusual effort by the Court to block access to justice in advance for damage lawsuits didn’t seem to work; Mr. English forced the sheriff's executors to pay him £60. 3s.

At length, the government had to meet the public feeling. A proclamation was issued, "By the Honorable the Lieutenant-Governor, Council, and Assembly of His Majesty's province of the Massachusetts Bay, in General Court assembled." It begins thus: "Whereas the anger of God is not yet turned away, but his hand is still stretched out against his people in manifold judgments;" and, after several specifications of the calamities under which they were suffering, and referring to the "many days of public and solemn" addresses made to God, it proceeds: "Yet we cannot but also fear that there is something still wanting to accompany our supplications; and doubtless there are some particular sins which God is angry with our Israel for, that have not been duly seen and resented by us, about which God expects to be sought, if ever he again turn our captivity." Thursday, the fourteenth of the next January, was accordingly appointed to be observed as a day of prayer and fasting,—

Finally, the government had to respond to public sentiment. A proclamation was issued, "By the Honorable the Lieutenant-Governor, Council, and Assembly of His Majesty's province of the Massachusetts Bay, in General Court assembled." It starts with: "Whereas the anger of God is not yet turned away, but His hand is still stretched out against His people in various judgments;" and, after outlining several of the calamities they were experiencing, and mentioning the "many days of public and solemn" prayers made to God, it continues: "Yet we cannot help but fear that there is still something missing in our supplications; and certainly, there are specific sins for which God is still angry with our community that have not been properly acknowledged and addressed by us, regarding which God expects us to seek Him, if ever He is to restore our situation." Thursday, January fourteenth, was therefore designated as a day of prayer and fasting,—

"That so all God's people may offer up fervent supplications unto him, that all iniquity may be put away, which hath stirred God's holy jealousy against this land; that he would show us what we know not, and help us, wherein we have done amiss, to do so no more; and especially, that, whatever mistakes on either hand have been fallen into, either by the body of this people or any orders of men, referring to the late tragedy, raised among us by Satan and his instruments, through the awful judgment of God, he would humble us therefor, and pardon all the errors of his servants and people that desire to love his name; that he would remove the rod of the wicked from off the lot of the[ii.474] righteous; that he would bring in the American heathen, and cause them to hear and obey his voice.

"That all God's people may earnestly pray to Him, asking for the removal of all wrongdoing that has provoked His holy anger against this land; that He would reveal to us what we do not know and help us to correct our mistakes; and especially, that regardless of any errors made by either the community or any groups of people concerning the recent tragedy caused by Satan and his agents through God's severe judgment, He would humble us for it and forgive all the mistakes of His servants and people who wish to honor His name; that He would take away the oppression of the wicked from the lot of the[ii.474] righteous; that He would bring in the American nonbelievers and make them hear and follow His voice."

"Given at Boston, Dec. 17, 1696, in the eighth year of His Majesty's reign.

"Given in Boston, December 17, 1696, in the eighth year of His Majesty's reign."

Isaac Addington, Secretary."

Isaac Addington, Secretary.

The jury had acted in conformity with their obligations and honest convictions of duty in bringing in their verdicts. They had sworn to decide according to the law and the evidence. The law under which they were required to act was laid down with absolute positiveness by the Court. They were bound to receive it, and to take and weigh the evidence that was admitted; and to their minds it was clear, decisive, and overwhelming, offered by persons of good character, and confirmed by a great number of confessions. If it had been within their province, as it always is declared not to be, to discuss the general principles, and sit in judgment on the particular penalties of law, it would not have altered the case; for, at that time, not only the common people, but the wisest philosophers, supported the interpretation of the law that acknowledged the existence of witchcraft, and its sanction that visited it with death.

The jury acted in line with their responsibilities and genuine sense of duty when they delivered their verdicts. They had sworn to make decisions based on the law and the evidence presented. The law they were required to follow was clearly outlined by the Court. They had to accept it and carefully consider the admitted evidence, which they found to be clear, decisive, and overwhelming, provided by trustworthy individuals and backed by numerous confessions. Even if it had been their right, which it was said not to be, to discuss general principles and judge the specific penalties of the law, it wouldn’t have changed the outcome; at that time, not just the average people but also the greatest philosophers supported the legal interpretation that recognized the reality of witchcraft and the death penalty that came with it.

Notwithstanding all this, however, so tender and sensitive were the consciences of the jurors, that they signed and circulated the following humble and solemn declaration of regret for the part they had borne in the trials. As the publication of this paper was highly honorable to those who signed it, and cannot but be contemplated with satisfaction by all their descendants, I will repeat their names:—

Notwithstanding all this, however, the jurors were so tender and sensitive that they signed and shared the following sincere and serious declaration of regret for their roles in the trials. Since the release of this document is a point of pride for those who signed it and should be viewed positively by all their descendants, I will repeat their names:—

"We whose names are underwritten, being in the year 1692 called to serve as jurors in court at Salem, on trial of many who were by some suspected guilty of doing acts of witchcraft upon the bodies of sundry persons,—we confess that we ourselves were not capable to understand, nor able to withstand, the mysterious delusions of the powers of darkness and Prince of the air, but were, for want of knowledge in ourselves and better information from others, prevailed with to take up with such evidence against the accused as, on further consideration and better information, we justly fear was insufficient for the touching the lives of any (Deut. xvii. 6), whereby we fear we have been instrumental, with others, though ignorantly and unwittingly, to bring upon ourselves and this people of the Lord the guilt of innocent blood; which sin the Lord saith in Scripture he would not pardon[ii.475] (2 Kings xxiv. 4),—that is, we suppose, in regard of his temporal judgments. We do therefore hereby signify to all in general, and to the surviving sufferers in special, our deep sense of, and sorrow for, our errors in acting on such evidence to the condemning of any person; and do hereby declare, that we justly fear that we were sadly deluded and mistaken,—for which we are much disquieted and distressed in our minds, and do therefore humbly beg forgiveness, first, of God, for Christ's sake, for this our error, and pray that God would not impute the guilt of it to ourselves nor others: and we also pray that we may be considered candidly and aright by the living sufferers, as being then under the power of a strong and general delusion, utterly unacquainted with, and not experienced in, matters of that nature.

We, the undersigned, who were called to serve as jurors in the court at Salem in 1692, on the trial of many individuals suspected of witchcraft against others, admit that we were unable to understand or resist the mysterious deceptions of dark forces and the Prince of the Air. Due to our lack of knowledge and inadequate information from others, we were persuaded to accept evidence against the accused that, upon further reflection and more informed understanding, we now fear was inadequate for condemning anyone (Deut. xvii. 6). As a result, we worry that we have unknowingly contributed, along with others, to the grave injustice of shedding innocent blood, a sin the Lord says in Scripture He will not forgive[ii.475] (2 Kings xxiv. 4) with regard to His temporal judgments. Therefore, we wish to express our profound regret and sorrow for our wrongful actions based on such evidence that led to the condemnation of any individual. We genuinely fear that we were misled and mistaken, which causes us great distress and unrest in our minds. We humbly ask for forgiveness from God for this error, in Christ's name, and pray that God does not hold this guilt against us or others. We also hope to be understood fairly by the surviving victims, as we were then under a powerful widespread delusion, completely unaware and inexperienced regarding such matters.

"We do heartily ask forgiveness of you all, whom we have justly offended; and do declare, according to our present minds, we would none of us do such things again, on such grounds, for the whole world,—praying you to accept of this in way of satisfaction for our offence, and that you would bless the inheritance of the Lord, that he may be entreated for the land.

"We sincerely ask for your forgiveness, all of you whom we have rightly offended; and we declare, based on our current feelings, that none of us would ever do such things again, under any circumstances, for the entire world. We hope you will accept this as a way to make up for our wrongdoing, and that you will bless the Lord's inheritance so that He may be moved to help the land."

"Thomas Fisk, Foreman. Thomas Pearly, Sr.
William Fisk. John Peabody.
John Bachelor. Thomas Perkins.
Thomas Fisk, Jr. Samuel Sayer.
John Dane. Andrew Eliot.
Joseph Evelith. Henry Herrick, Sr."

In 1697, Rev. John Hale, of Beverly, published a work on the subject of the witchcraft persecutions, in which he gives the reasons which led him to the conclusion that there was error at the foundation of the proceedings. The following extract shows that he took a rational view of the subject:—

In 1697, Rev. John Hale of Beverly published a work discussing the witchcraft persecutions, where he explains the reasons that led him to conclude there were fundamental mistakes in the proceedings. The following excerpt demonstrates that he had a rational perspective on the issue:—

"It may be queried then, How doth it appear that there was a going too far in this affair?

"It can be asked then, how does it seem that there was an excessive approach in this matter?"

"Answer I.—By the number of persons accused. It cannot be imagined, that, in a place of so much knowledge, so many, in so small a compass of land, should so abominably leap into the Devil's lap,—at once.

"Answer I.—By the number of people accused. It’s hard to believe that in a place with so much knowledge, so many individuals could so horrifically leap into the Devil's embrace all at once."

"Ans. II.—The quality of several of the accused was such as did bespeak better things, and things that accompany salvation. Persons whose blameless and holy lives before did testify for them; persons that had taken great pains to bring up their children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, such as we had charity for as for our[ii.476] own souls,—and charity is a Christian duty, commended to us in 1 Cor. xiii., Col. iii. 14, and many other places.

"Answer. II.—The character of several of the accused suggested better things and qualities associated with salvation. These were individuals whose innocent and virtuous lives previously spoke on their behalf; people who had made significant efforts to raise their children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, individuals for whom we had goodwill just like we do for our[ii.476] own souls,—and goodwill is a Christian responsibility, as we are reminded in 1 Cor. xiii., Col. iii. 14, and many other passages."

"Ans. III.—The number of the afflicted by Satan daily increased, till about fifty persons were thus vexed by the Devil. This gave just ground to suspect some mistake.

"Answer. III.—The number of people tormented by Satan kept rising, until around fifty individuals were troubled by the Devil. This raised reasonable doubts about some kind of mistake."

"Ans. IV.—It was considerable, that nineteen were executed, and all denied the crime to the death; and some of them were knowing persons, and had before this been accounted blameless livers. And it is not to be imagined but that, if all had been guilty, some would have had so much tenderness as to seek mercy for their souls in the way of confession, and sorrow for such a sin.

"Answer. IV.—It was significant that nineteen were executed, and all of them insisted on their innocence until death; some were knowledgeable individuals who had previously been considered upstanding citizens. It’s hard to believe that if everyone had been guilty, at least a few wouldn’t have shown enough compassion to seek forgiveness for their souls through confession and remorse for such a sin."

"Ans. V.—When this prosecution ceased, the Lord so chained up Satan, that the afflicted grew presently well: the accused are generally quiet, and for five years since we have no such molestation by them."

"Answer. V.—When this trial ended, the Lord restrained Satan so thoroughly that those who were suffering quickly got better: the accused are mostly calm, and for the past five years, we haven't experienced any such disturbances from them."

Such reasonings as these found their way into the minds of the whole community; and it became the melancholy conviction of all candid and considerate persons that innocent blood had been shed. Standing where we do, with the lights that surround us, we look back upon the whole scene as an awful perversion of justice, reason, and truth.

Such reasoning made its way into the minds of everyone in the community, and it became the sad realization for all fair-minded and thoughtful people that innocent blood had been shed. From our current perspective, with the understanding we have now, we see the whole situation as a terrible distortion of justice, reason, and truth.

On the 13th of June, 1700, Abigail Faulkner presented a well-expressed memorial to the General Court, in which she says that her pardon "so far had its effect, as that I am yet suffered to live, but this only as a malefactor convict upon record of the most heinous crimes that mankind can be supposed to be guilty of;" and prays for "the defacing of the record" against her. She claims it as no more than a simple act of justice; stating that the evidence against her was wholly confined to the "afflicted, who pretended to see me by their spectral sight, and not with their bodily eyes." That "the jury (upon only their testimony) brought me in 'Guilty,' and the sentence of death was passed upon me;" and that it had been decided that such testimony was of no value. The House of Representatives felt the force of her appeal, and voted that "the prayer of the petitioner be granted." The council declined to concur, but addressed "His Excellency to grant the petitioner His Majesty's gracious pardon; and His Excellency expressed His readiness to grant the same." Some adverse influence, it seemed, prevailed to prevent it.

On June 13, 1700, Abigail Faulkner submitted a well-written petition to the General Court, where she stated that her pardon "has allowed me to continue living, but only as a convicted criminal recorded for the worst crimes imaginable." She requested the "removal of the record" against her. She argued that this was merely an act of justice, explaining that the evidence against her was entirely based on the "afflicted, who claimed to see me through their spectral vision and not with their physical eyes." She noted that "the jury, based solely on their testimony, found me 'Guilty,' and a death sentence was imposed," adding that it had been determined that such testimony held no value. The House of Representatives recognized the strength of her appeal and voted that "the petitioner's request be granted." The council chose not to agree but urged "His Excellency to grant the petitioner His Majesty's kind pardon; and His Excellency indicated his willingness to do so." However, it appeared that some opposing influence was in place to stop it.

On the 18th of March, 1702, another petition was presented to[ii.477] the General Court, by persons of Andover, Salem Village, and Topsfield, who had suffered imprisonment and condemnation, and by the relations of others who had been condemned and executed on the testimony, as they say, of "possessed persons," to this effect:—

On March 18, 1702, another petition was submitted to[ii.477] the General Court by people from Andover, Salem Village, and Topsfield, who had been imprisoned and condemned, along with the relatives of others who had been condemned and executed based on the testimony of what they described as "possessed persons," stating the following:—

"Your petitioners being dissatisfied and grieved that (besides what the condemned persons have suffered in their persons and estates) their names are exposed to infamy and reproach, while their trial and condemnation stands upon public record, we therefore humbly pray this honored Court that something may be publicly done to take off infamy from the names and memory of those who have suffered as aforesaid, that none of their surviving relations nor their posterity may suffer reproach on that account."

"Your petitioners are unhappy and distressed that, in addition to what the condemned individuals have endured in their lives and property, their names are now tarnished and shamed, while their trial and conviction remain on public record. Therefore, we respectfully request this esteemed Court to take action to remove the shame from the names and memories of those who have suffered as stated, so that none of their surviving family members or their descendants have to face disgrace because of it."

[Signed by Francis Faulkner, Isaac Easty, Thorndike Procter, and eighteen others.]

[Signed by Francis Faulkner, Isaac Easty, Thorndike Procter, and eighteen others.]

On the 20th of July, in answer to the foregoing petitions, a bill was ordered by the House of Representatives to be drawn up, forbidding in future such procedures, as in the witchcraft trials of 1692; declaring that "no spectre evidence may hereafter be accounted valid or sufficient to take away the life or good name of any person or persons within this province, and that the infamy and reproach cast on the names and posterity of said accused and condemned persons may in some measure be rolled away." The council concurred with an additional clause, to acquit all condemned persons "of the penalties to which they are liable upon the convictions and judgments in the courts, and estate them in their just credit and reputation, as if no such judgment had been had."

On July 20th, in response to the previous petitions, the House of Representatives ordered a bill to be written up that would prohibit such procedures as those seen in the witchcraft trials of 1692. It declared that "no spectral evidence may ever again be considered valid or sufficient to take away the life or good name of any person or persons in this province, and that the shame and disgrace placed on the names and descendants of those accused and convicted may be somewhat removed." The council agreed with an additional clause to clear all condemned individuals "of the penalties they face as a result of the convictions and judgments in the courts, and restore their rightful credit and reputation, as if no such judgment had been made."

This petition was re-enforced by an "address" to the General Court, dated July 8, 1703, by several ministers of the county of Essex. They speak of the accusers in the witchcraft trials as "young persons under diabolical molestations," and express this sentiment: "There is great reason to fear that innocent persons then suffered, and that God may have a controversy with the land upon that account." They earnestly beg that the prayer of the petitioners, lately presented, may be granted. This petition was signed by Thomas Barnard, of Andover; Joseph Green, of Salem Village; William Hubbard, John Wise, John Rogers, and Jabez[ii.478] Fitch, of Ipswich; Benjamin Rolfe, of Haverhill; Samuel Cheever, of Marblehead; Joseph Gerrish, of Wenham; Joseph Capen, of Topsfield; Zechariah Symmes, of Bradford; and Thomas Symmes, of Boxford. Francis Dane, of Andover, had died six years before. John Hale, of Beverly, had died three years before. The great age of John Higginson, of Salem,—eighty-seven years,—probably prevented the papers being handed to him. It is observable, that Nicholas Noyes, his colleague, is not among the signers.

This petition was supported by a letter to the General Court, dated July 8, 1703, from several ministers in Essex County. They refer to the accusers in the witchcraft trials as "young people under demonic influence" and express their concerns: "There is a lot of reason to worry that innocent people suffered back then, and that God may have a dispute with the land because of it." They sincerely request that the prayer of the petitioners, recently submitted, be granted. This petition was signed by Thomas Barnard of Andover; Joseph Green of Salem Village; William Hubbard, John Wise, John Rogers, and Jabez[ii.478] Fitch of Ipswich; Benjamin Rolfe of Haverhill; Samuel Cheever of Marblehead; Joseph Gerrish of Wenham; Joseph Capen of Topsfield; Zechariah Symmes of Bradford; and Thomas Symmes of Boxford. Francis Dane of Andover had passed away six years earlier. John Hale of Beverly had died three years earlier. The advanced age of John Higginson of Salem—eighty-seven years—likely prevented the papers from being presented to him. Notably, Nicholas Noyes, his colleague, is not among the signers.

What prevented action, we do not know; but nothing was done. Six years afterwards, on the 25th of May, 1709, an "humble address" was presented to the General Court by certain inhabitants of the province, some of whom "had their near relations, either parents or others, who suffered death in the dark and doleful times that passed over this province in 1692;" and others "who themselves, or some of their relations, were imprisoned, impaired and blasted in their reputations and estates by reason of the same." They pray for the passage of a "suitable act" to restore the reputations of the sufferers, and to make some remuneration "as to what they have been damnified in their estates thereby." This paper was signed by Philip English and twenty-one others. Philip English gave in an account in detail of what articles were seized and carried away, at the time of his arrest, from four of his warehouses, his wharf, and shop-house, besides the expenses incurred in prison, and in escaping from it. It appears by this statement, that he and his wife were nine weeks in jail at Salem and Boston. Nothing was done at this session. The next year, Sept. 12, 1710, Isaac Easty presented a strong memorial to the General Court in reference to his case. He calls for some remuneration. In speaking of the arrest and execution of his "beloved wife," he says "my sorrow and trouble of heart in being deprived of her in such a manner, which this world can never make me any compensation for." At the same time, the daughters of Elizabeth How, the son of Sarah Wildes, the heirs of Mary Bradbury, Edward Bishop and his wife Sarah, sent in severally similar petitions,—all in earnest and forcible language. Charles, one of the sons of George Burroughs, presented the case of his "dear and honored father;" declaring that his innocence of the crime of which he was accused, and his excellence of character, were shown in "his careful catechising his children, and upholding[ii.479] religion in his family, and by his solemn and savory written instructions from prison." He describes in affecting details the condition in which his father's family of little children was left at his death. One of Mr. Burroughs's daughters, upon being required to sign a paper in reference to compensation, expresses her distress of mind in these words: "Every discourse on this melancholy subject doth but give a fresh wound to my bleeding heart. I desire to sit down in silence." John Moulton, in behalf of the family of Giles Corey, says that they "cannot sufficiently express their grief" for the death, in such a manner, of "their honored father and mother." Samuel Nurse, in behalf of his brothers and sisters, says that their "honored and dear mother had led a blameless life from her youth up.... Her name and the name of her posterity lies under reproach, the removing of which reproach is the principal thing wherein we desire restitution. And, as we know not how to express our loss of such a mother in such a way, so we know not how to compute our charge, but leave it to the judgment of others, and shall not be critical." He distinctly intimates, that they do not wish any money to be paid them, unless "the attainder is taken off." Many other petitions were presented by the families of those who suffered, all in the same spirit; and several besides the Nurses insisted mainly upon the "taking off the attainder."

What stopped action, we don't know; but nothing happened. Six years later, on May 25, 1709, an "humble address" was presented to the General Court by certain residents of the province, some of whom "had close relatives, either parents or others, who suffered death during the dark and grim times that affected this province in 1692;" and others "who themselves, or some of their relatives, were imprisoned, damaged, and suffered harm to their reputations and properties because of the same." They requested the passage of a "suitable act" to restore the reputations of those affected and to provide some compensation "for what they lost in their properties because of this." This document was signed by Philip English and twenty-one others. Philip English provided a detailed account of what items were seized and taken away at the time of his arrest from four of his warehouses, his wharf, and his shop, as well as the expenses he incurred while in prison and escaping from it. His statement shows that he and his wife spent nine weeks in jail in Salem and Boston. Nothing was done during this session. The following year, on September 12, 1710, Isaac Easty presented a strong memorial to the General Court regarding his case. He called for some compensation. In referring to the arrest and execution of his "beloved wife," he said, "my sorrow and heartache from being deprived of her in such a way cannot be compensated by this world." At the same time, the daughters of Elizabeth How, the son of Sarah Wildes, the heirs of Mary Bradbury, Edward Bishop and his wife Sarah sent in similar petitions—each written in earnest and powerful language. Charles, one of the sons of George Burroughs, brought forward the case of his "dear and honored father;" stating that his innocence of the crime he was accused of, and his excellent character, were evident in "his careful teachings to his children and upholding religion in his family, and by his solemn and meaningful written instructions from prison." He described in touching detail the situation in which his father's family of small children was left after his death. One of Mr. Burroughs's daughters, when asked to sign a document regarding compensation, expressed her deep distress with these words: "Every conversation on this sad topic just gives a fresh wound to my aching heart. I wish to sit in silence." John Moulton, on behalf of the family of Giles Corey, stated that they "cannot adequately express their grief" over the death, in such a manner, of "their honored father and mother." Samuel Nurse, on behalf of his brothers and sisters, noted that their "honored and dear mother had lived a blameless life from her youth up.... Her name and the name of her descendants lies under reproach, and removing that reproach is the main thing we seek restitution for. And, as we don't know how to express our loss of such a mother in a way, we also cannot determine our expenses, but leave that to the judgment of others, without being critical." He clearly indicated that they do not wish for any money unless "the attainder is lifted." Many other petitions were submitted by the families of those who suffered, all with the same intent; and several, besides the Nurses, mainly insisted on "lifting the attainder."

The General Court, on the 17th of October, 1710, passed an act, that "the several convictions, judgments, and attainders be, and hereby are, reversed, and declared to be null and void." In simple justice, they ought to have extended the act to all who had suffered; but they confined its effect to those in reference to whom petitions had been presented. The families of some of them had disappeared, or may not have had notice of what was going on; so that the sentence which the Government acknowledged to have been unjust remains to this day unreversed against the names and memory of Bridget Bishop, Susanna Martin, Alice Parker, Ann Pudeator, Wilmot Read, and Margaret Scott. The stain on the records of the Commonwealth has never been fully effaced. What caused this dilatory and halting course on the part of the Government, and who was responsible for it, cannot be ascertained. Since the presentation of Abigail Faulkner's petition in 1700, the Legislature, in the popular branch at least, and the[ii.480] Governor, appear to have been inclined to act favorably in the premises; but some power blocked the way. There is some reason to conjecture that it was the influence of the home government. Its consent to have the prosecutions suspended, in 1692, was not very cordial, but, while it approved of "care and circumspection therein," expressed reluctance to allow any "impediment to the ordinary course of justice."

The General Court, on October 17, 1710, passed a law stating that "the various convictions, judgments, and attainders are hereby reversed and declared null and void." In fairness, they should have included everyone who was affected, but they limited the law's impact to those for whom petitions had been submitted. Some of their families were gone, or might not have been aware of what was happening; thus, the sentence that the Government recognized as unfair still stands against the names and memories of Bridget Bishop, Susanna Martin, Alice Parker, Ann Pudeator, Wilmot Read, and Margaret Scott. The blemish on the records of the Commonwealth has never been completely erased. It's unclear what caused this slow and hesitant action from the Government and who was behind it. Since Abigail Faulkner's petition in 1700, it seems that the Legislature, at least in the popular branch, along with the [ii.480] Governor, were inclined to act positively on this issue; however, some force hindered their efforts. There’s a reason to speculate that it was the influence of the home government. Its approval to halt the prosecutions in 1692 was not very enthusiastic, and while it endorsed "care and caution in this matter," it showed hesitation to allow any "obstacle to the normal course of justice."

On the 17th of December, 1711, Governor Dudley issued his warrant for the purpose of carrying out a vote of the "General Assembly," "by and with the advice and consent of Her Majesty's Council," to pay "the sum of £578. 12s." to "such persons as are living, and to those that legally represent them that are dead;" which sum was divided as follows:—

On December 17, 1711, Governor Dudley issued his order to conduct a vote of the "General Assembly," "with the advice and consent of Her Majesty's Council," to pay "the amount of £578. 12s." to "those who are alive, and to those who legally represent those who have passed away;" which amount was divided as follows:—

John Procter and wife £ 150 0 0
George Jacobs   79 0 0
George Burroughs   50 0 0
Sarah Good 30 0 0
Giles Corey and wife   21 0 0
Dorcas Hoar   21 17 0
Abigail Hobbs   10 0 0
Rebecca Eames   10 0 0
Mary Post   8 14 0
Mary Lacy   8 10 0
Ann Foster   6 10 0
Samuel Wardwell and wife   36 15 0
Rebecca Nurse   25 0 0
Mary Easty   20 0 0
Mary Bradbury   20 0 0
Abigail Faulkner   20 0 0
John Willard   20 0 0
Sarah Wildes   14 0 0
Elizabeth How   12 0 0
Mary Parker   8 0 0
Martha Carrier   7 6 0
 
£
==
——
578
====

12
==

0
==

The distribution, as above, according to the evidence as it has come down to us, is as unjust and absurd as the smallness of the[ii.481] amount, and the long delay before it was ordered, are discreditable to the province. One of the larger sums was allowed to William Good, while he clearly deserved nothing, as he was an adverse witness in the examination of his wife, and did what he could to promote the prosecution against her. He did not, it is true, swear that he believed her to be a witch; but what he said tended to prejudice the magistrates and the public against her. Benjamin Putnam acted as his attorney, and received the money for him. Good was a retainer and dependant of that branch of the Putnam family; and its influence gave him so large a proportionate amount, and not the reason or equity of the case. More was allowed to Abigail Hobbs, a very malignant witness against the prisoners, than to the families of several who were executed. Nearly twice as much was allowed for Abigail Faulkner, who was pardoned, as for Elizabeth How, who was executed. The sums allowed in the cases of Parker, Carrier, and Foster, were shamefully small. The public mind evidently was not satisfied; and the Legislature were pressed for a half-century to make more adequate compensation, and thereby vindicate the sentiment of justice, and redeem the honor of the province.

The distribution, as mentioned earlier, based on the evidence we have, is as unfair and ridiculous as the small amount, and the long delay before it was decided, which are embarrassing for the province. A larger sum was given to William Good, even though he clearly didn't deserve it, as he was an opposing witness during his wife's examination and did everything he could to support her prosecution. It’s true he didn’t directly say he thought she was a witch, but what he said biased the magistrates and the public against her. Benjamin Putnam acted as his lawyer and collected the money for him. Good was connected to that branch of the Putnam family, and their influence helped him get a disproportionately large amount, not based on the fairness of the case. Abigail Hobbs, a very hostile witness against the prisoners, received more than several families of those who were executed. Nearly twice as much was given to Abigail Faulkner, who was pardoned, than to Elizabeth How, who was executed. The amounts awarded in the cases of Parker, Carrier, and Foster were shamefully low. Public sentiment was clearly not satisfied; the Legislature was pressured for fifty years to provide better compensation, thereby restoring a sense of justice and redeeming the province's honor.

On the 8th of December, 1738, Major Samuel Sewall, a son of the Judge, introduced an order in the House of Representatives for the appointment of a committee to get information relating to "the circumstances of the persons and families who suffered in the calamity of the times in and about the year 1692." Major Sewall entered into the matter with great zeal. The House unanimously passed the order. He was chairman of the committee; and, on the 9th of December, wrote to his cousin Mitchel Sewall in Salem, son of Stephen, earnestly requesting him and John Higginson, Esq., to aid in accomplishing the object. The following is an extract from a speech delivered by Governor Belcher to both Houses of the Legislature, Nov. 22, 1740. It is honorable to his memory.

On December 8, 1738, Major Samuel Sewall, the son of the Judge, proposed a motion in the House of Representatives to form a committee that would gather information about "the circumstances of the people and families who suffered during the hardships of the times around 1692." Major Sewall tackled the issue with great enthusiasm. The House unanimously approved the motion. He became the chairman of the committee and, on December 9, wrote to his cousin Mitchel Sewall in Salem, the son of Stephen, earnestly asking him and John Higginson, Esq., for their assistance in achieving this goal. The following is an excerpt from a speech given by Governor Belcher to both Houses of the Legislature on November 22, 1740. It honors his memory.

"The Legislature have often honored themselves in a kind and generous remembrance of such families and of the posterity of such as have been sufferers, either in their persons or estates, for or by the Government, of which the public records will give you many instances. I should therefore be glad there might be a committee appointed by this Court to inquire into the sufferings of the people called Quakers, in the early days of this country, as also into the descendants of such[ii.482] families as were in a manner ruined in the mistaken management of the terrible affair called witchcraft. I really think there is something incumbent on this Government to be done for relieving the estates and reputations of the posterities of the unhappy families that so suffered; and the doing it, though so long afterwards, would doubtless be acceptable to Almighty God, and would reflect honor upon the present Legislature."

"The Legislature has often shown respect and kindness by remembering families and descendants of those who suffered, either personally or financially, for or because of the Government, as many public records will show. I would therefore be pleased if this Court could appoint a committee to investigate the sufferings of the Quakers in the early days of this country, as well as the descendants of those families who were essentially ruined by the misguided handling of the tragic incident known as witchcraft. I genuinely believe it is the responsibility of this Government to take action to help restore the estates and reputations of the descendants of the unfortunate families who endured so much; doing so, even after all this time, would surely be pleasing to Almighty God and would bring honor to the current Legislature."

On the 31st of May, 1749, the heirs of George Burroughs addressed a petition to Governor Shirley and the General Court, setting forth "the unparalleled persecutions and sufferings" of their ancestor, and praying for "some recompense from this Court for the losses thereby sustained by his family." It was referred to a committee of both Houses. The next year, the petitioners sent a memorial to Governor Spencer Phips and the General Court, stating, that "it hath fell out, that the Hon. Mr. Danforth, chairman of the said committee, had not, as yet, called them together so much as once to act thereon, even to this day, as some of the honorable committee themselves were pleased, with real concern, to signify to your said petitioners." The House immediately passed this order: "That the committee within referred to be directed to sit forthwith, consider the petition to them committed, and report as soon as may be."

On May 31, 1749, the heirs of George Burroughs submitted a petition to Governor Shirley and the General Court, outlining "the extreme persecutions and sufferings" of their ancestor and requesting "some compensation from this Court for the losses suffered by his family." It was sent to a committee from both Houses. The following year, the petitioners sent a memorial to Governor Spencer Phips and the General Court, stating that "it has happened that the Hon. Mr. Danforth, chair of the committee, had not yet called them together even once to address this matter, as some members of the honorable committee themselves expressed with genuine concern to your petitioners." The House promptly passed this order: "That the committee referred to above be directed to meet immediately, consider the petition assigned to them, and report as soon as possible."

All that I have been able to find, as the result of these long-delayed and long-protracted movements, is a statement of Dr. Bentley, that the heirs of Philip English received two hundred pounds. He does not say when the act to this effect was passed. Perhaps some general measure of the kind was adopted, the record of which I have failed to meet. The engrossing interest of the then pending French war, and of the vehement dissensions that led to the Revolution, probably prevented any further attention to this subject, after the middle of the last century.

All I’ve been able to find as a result of these long-delayed and drawn-out processes is a statement from Dr. Bentley that the heirs of Philip English received two hundred pounds. He doesn’t mention when this was decided. Maybe some general measure was put in place, but I haven’t come across the record of it. The intense focus on the ongoing French war and the heated disagreements that led to the Revolution likely distracted people from this issue after the mid-1700s.

It is apparent from the foregoing statements and records, that while many individuals, the people generally, and finally Governor Belcher and the House of Representatives emphatically, did what they could, there was an influence that prevailed to prevent for a long time, if not for ever, any action of the province to satisfy the demands made by justice and the honor of the country in repairing the great wrongs committed by the legislative, executive, and judicial branches of the Government in 1692. The only bodies[ii.483] of men who fully came up to their duty on the occasion were the clergy of the county, and, as will appear, the church at Salem Village.

It’s clear from the statements and records above that although many individuals, the general public, and especially Governor Belcher and the House of Representatives did everything they could, there was an influence that held back any action from the province for a long time, if not forever, to address the demands of justice and the honor of the country in correcting the serious injustices committed by the legislative, executive, and judicial branches of the Government in 1692. The only groups of people who fully stepped up to their responsibility during this time were the clergy of the county and, as will be shown, the church in Salem Village.

What was done by the First Church in Salem is shown in the following extract from its records:—

What the First Church in Salem did is demonstrated in the following extract from its records:—

"March 2, 1712.—After the sacrament, a church-meeting was appointed to be at the teacher's house, at two of the clock in the afternoon, on the sixth of the month, being Thursday: on which day they accordingly met to consider of the several following particulars propounded to them by the teacher; viz.:—

"March 2, 1712.—After the sacrament, a church meeting was scheduled to take place at the teacher's house at 2 o'clock in the afternoon on the sixth of the month, which was a Thursday: on that day, they indeed met to discuss the various topics proposed to them by the teacher; namely:—

"1. Whether the record of the excommunication of our Sister Nurse (all things considered) may not be erased and blotted out. The result of which consideration was, That whereas, on July 3d, 1692, it was proposed by the Elders, and consented to by an unanimous vote of the church, that our Sister Nurse should be excommunicated, she being convicted of witchcraft by the Court, and she was accordingly excommunicated, since which the General Court having taken off the attainder, and the testimony on which she was convicted being not now so satisfactory to ourselves and others as it was generally in that hour of darkness and temptation; and we being solicited by her son, Mr. Samuel Nurse, to erase and blot out of the church records the sentence of her excommunication,—this church, having the matter proposed to them by the teacher, and having seriously considered it, doth consent that the record of our Sister Nurse's excommunication be accordingly erased and blotted out, that it may no longer be a reproach to her memory, and an occasion of grief to her children. Humbly requesting that the merciful God would pardon whatsoever sin, error, or mistake was in the application of that censure and of that whole affair, through our merciful High-priest, who knoweth how to have compassion on the ignorant, and those that are out of the way.

"1. Whether the record of our Sister Nurse's excommunication should be removed. The outcome of this consideration was that on July 3rd, 1692, the Elders proposed and the church unanimously agreed to excommunicate our Sister Nurse after she was convicted of witchcraft by the Court. She was excommunicated, and since then the General Court has lifted the charges against her. The evidence that led to her conviction is no longer as convincing to us and others as it was during that dark and tempting time. After her son, Mr. Samuel Nurse, asked us to remove the record of her excommunication from the church records, this church, after the matter was presented by the teacher and given careful thought, agrees that the record of our Sister Nurse's excommunication should be removed so it will no longer tarnish her memory or cause her children pain. We humbly ask that merciful God forgives any sin, error, or mistake that occurred in imposing that punishment and in this whole matter, through our compassionate High Priest, who knows how to empathize with those who are lost and confused."

"2. It was proposed whether the sentence of excommunication against our Brother Giles Corey (all things considered) may not be erased and blotted out. The result was, That whereas, on Sept. 18, 1692, it was considered by the church, that our Brother Giles Corey stood accused of and indicted for the sin of witchcraft, and that he had obstinately refused to plead, and so threw himself on certain death. It was agreed by the vote of the church, that he should be excommunicated for it; and accordingly he was excommunicated. Yet the church, having now testimony in his behalf, that, before his death, he did bitterly repent of his obstinate refusal to plead in defence[ii.484] of his life, do consent that the sentence of his excommunication be erased and blotted out."

"2. It was suggested whether the excommunication sentence against our Brother Giles Corey could be removed. The outcome was that, on September 18, 1692, the church found that our Brother Giles Corey was accused and indicted for witchcraft and had stubbornly refused to plead, resulting in his certain death. The church voted to excommunicate him for this, and he was indeed excommunicated. However, the church now has testimony on his behalf, indicating that before his death, he deeply regretted his stubborn refusal to plead for his life, and thus agrees to erase the sentence of his excommunication."

It will be noticed that these proceedings were not had at a regular public meeting, but at a private meeting of the church, on a week-day afternoon, at the teacher's house. The motives that led to them were a disposition to comply with the act of the General Court, and the solicitations of Mr. Samuel Nurse, rather than a profound sense of wrong done to a venerable member of their own body, who had claims upon their protection as such. The language of the record does not frankly admit absolutely that there was sin, error, or mistake, but requests forgiveness for whatsoever there may have been. The character of Rebecca Nurse, and the outrageous treatment she had received from that church, in the method arranged for her excommunication, demanded something more than these hypothetical expressions, with such a preamble.

It’s important to note that these proceedings didn’t take place during a regular public meeting, but rather in a private church meeting on a weekday afternoon at the teacher's house. The reasons behind this were more about wanting to comply with the General Court's act and the requests of Mr. Samuel Nurse, rather than a strong feeling of wrongdoing towards a respected member of their community, who deserved their protection. The record’s wording doesn’t openly acknowledge that there was sin, error, or mistake, but it does ask for forgiveness for whatever might have occurred. The character of Rebecca Nurse and the appalling way she was treated by the church during her excommunication required more than these conditional statements, especially given the initial context.

The statement made in the vote about Corey is, on its face, a misrepresentation. From the nature of the proceeding by which he was destroyed, it was in his power, at any moment, if he "repented of his obstinate refusal to plead," by saying so, to be instantly released from the pressure that was crushing him. The only design of the torture was to make him bring it to an end by "answering" guilty, or not guilty. Somebody fabricated the slander that Corey's resolution broke down under his agonies, and that he bitterly repented; and Mr. Noyes put the foolish scandal upon the records of the church.

The statement made in the vote about Corey is, at first glance, misleading. Given the nature of the process that led to his destruction, he had the option, at any moment, to escape the pressure that was overwhelming him simply by stating that he "repented of his stubborn refusal to plead." The sole purpose of the torture was to get him to end it by saying he was "guilty" or "not guilty." Someone spread the false rumor that Corey's resolve broke under his suffering and that he regretted it; and Mr. Noyes recorded this foolish scandal in the church's records.

The date of this transaction is disreputable to the people of Salem. Twenty years had been suffered to elapse, and a great outrage allowed to remain unacknowledged and unrepented. The credit of doing what was done at last probably belongs to the Rev. George Corwin. His call to the ministry, as colleague with Mr. Noyes, had just been consummated. The introduction of a new minister heralded a new policy, and the proceedings have the appearance of growing out of the kindly and auspicious feelings which generally attend and welcome such an era.

The date of this transaction is shameful to the people of Salem. Twenty years passed, and a significant injustice was left unrecognized and unrepented. The responsibility for what finally happened likely belongs to Rev. George Corwin. His appointment as a minister, alongside Mr. Noyes, had just been finalized. The arrival of a new minister signaled a new direction, and the events seem to stem from the positive and hopeful sentiments that typically accompany and celebrate such a change.

The Rev. George, son of Jonathan Corwin, was born May 21, 1683, and graduated at Harvard College in 1701. Mr. Barnard, of Marblehead, describes his character: "The spirit of[ii.485] early devotion, accompanied with a natural freedom of thought and easy elocution, a quick invention, a solid judgment, and a tenacious memory, laid the foundation of a good preacher; to which his acquired literature, his great reading, hard studies, deep meditation, and close walk with God, rendered him an able and faithful minister of the New Testament." The records of the First Church, in noticing his death, thus speak of him: "He was highly esteemed in his life, and very deservedly lamented at his death; having been very eminent for his early improvement in learning and piety, his singular abilities and great labors, his remarkable zeal and faithfulness. He was a great benefactor to our poor." Those bearing the name of Curwen among us are his descendants. He died Nov. 23, 1717.

The Rev. George, son of Jonathan Corwin, was born on May 21, 1683, and graduated from Harvard College in 1701. Mr. Barnard of Marblehead describes his character: "The spirit of[ii.485] early devotion, paired with a natural ease of thought and smooth speech, a quick imagination, solid judgment, and a sharp memory, laid the groundwork for a good preacher; to which his acquired knowledge, extensive reading, diligent studies, deep reflection, and close relationship with God made him a capable and faithful minister of the New Testament." The records of the First Church, regarding his death, state: "He was highly regarded in his life and truly mourned at his death; having been well-known for his early dedication to learning and piety, his unique talents and hard work, and his remarkable zeal and faithfulness. He was a great supporter of our poor." Those who carry the Curwen name among us are his descendants. He died on Nov. 23, 1717.

The Rev. Nicholas Noyes died Dec. 13, 1717. He was a person of superior talents and learning. He published, with the sermon preached by Cotton Mather on the occasion, a poem on the death of his venerable colleague, Mr. Higginson, in 1708; and also a poem on the death of Rev. Joseph Green, in 1715. Although an amiable and benevolent man in other respects, it cannot be denied that he was misled by his errors and his temperament into the most violent course in the witchcraft prosecutions; and it is to be feared that his feelings were never wholly rectified in reference to that transaction.

The Rev. Nicholas Noyes passed away on December 13, 1717. He was a person of exceptional talent and knowledge. He published, along with the sermon delivered by Cotton Mather on the occasion, a poem about the death of his esteemed colleague, Mr. Higginson, in 1708; and also a poem for the death of Rev. Joseph Green, in 1715. Although he was kind and generous in many ways, it can't be denied that he was led astray by his mistakes and temperament into a very harsh stance during the witchcraft trials; and it’s feared that his feelings about that incident were never completely resolved.

Jonathan, the father of the Rev. George Corwin, and whose part as a magistrate and judge in the examinations and trials of 1692 has been seen, died on the 9th of July, 1718, seventy-eight years of age.

Jonathan, the father of Rev. George Corwin, who played a role as a magistrate and judge during the examinations and trials of 1692, passed away on July 9, 1718, at the age of seventy-eight.

It only remains to record the course of the village church and people in reference to the events of 1692. After six persons, including Rebecca Nurse, had suffered death; and while five others, George Burroughs, John Procter, John Willard, George Jacobs, and Martha Carrier, were awaiting their execution, which was to take place on the coming Friday, Aug. 19,—the facts, related as follows by Mr. Parris in his record-book, occurred:—

It’s important to document what happened with the village church and community concerning the events of 1692. After six people, including Rebecca Nurse, had been executed; and while five others—George Burroughs, John Procter, John Willard, George Jacobs, and Martha Carrier—were waiting for their execution scheduled for the upcoming Friday, August 19, the following events took place, as reported by Mr. Parris in his record book:—

"Sabbath-day, 14th August, 1692.—The church was stayed after the congregation was dismissed, and the pastor spake to the church after this manner:—

"Sabbath day, August 14, 1692.—The church was kept open after the congregation was dismissed, and the pastor spoke to the church like this:—"

"'Brethren, you may all have taken notice, that, several sacrament days past, our brother Peter Cloyse, and Samuel Nurse and his wife,[ii.486] and John Tarbell and his wife, have absented from communion with us at the Lord's Table, yea, have very rarely, except our brother Samuel Nurse, been with us in common public worship: now, it is needful that the church send some persons to them to know the reason of their absence. Therefore, if you be so minded, express yourselves.'

"'Brothers and sisters, you may have noticed that, on several recent sacrament days, our brother Peter Cloyse, Samuel Nurse and his wife, and John Tarbell and his wife have not been participating in communion with us at the Lord's Table. In fact, they have rarely, except for our brother Samuel Nurse, joined us for public worship. It’s important for the church to reach out to them to understand the reason for their absence. So, if you agree, please share your thoughts.'

"None objected. But a general or universal vote, after some discourse, passed, that Brother Nathaniel Putnam and the two deacons should join with the pastor to discourse with the said absenters about it.

"Nobody objected. After some discussion, a general vote was taken, and it was decided that Brother Nathaniel Putnam and the two deacons should meet with the absent members to talk about it."

"31st August.—Brother Tarbell proves sick, unmeet for discourse; Brother Cloyse hard to be found at home, being often with his wife in prison at Ipswich for witchcraft; and Brother Nurse, and sometimes his wife, attends our public meeting, and he the sacrament, 11th September, 1692: upon all which we choose to wait further."

"August 31st.—Brother Tarbell is sick and not fit for conversation; Brother Cloyse is hard to find at home, as he is often with his wife, who is in prison in Ipswich for witchcraft; and Brother Nurse, along with sometimes his wife, attends our public meeting, and he takes the sacrament on September 11, 1692: based on all this, we decide to wait for more developments."

When it is remembered that the individuals aimed at all belonged to the family of Rebecca Nurse, whose execution had taken place three weeks before under circumstances with which Mr. Parris had been so prominently and responsibly connected, this proceeding must be felt by every person of ordinary human sensibilities to have been cruel, barbarous, and unnatural. Parris made the entry in his book, as he often did, some time after the transaction, as the inserted date of Sept. 11, shows. What his object was in commencing disciplinary treatment of this distressed family is not certain. It may be that he was preparing to get up such a feeling against them as would make it safe to have the "afflicted" cry out upon some of them. Or it may be that he wished to get them out of his church, to avoid the possibility of their proceeding against him, by ecclesiastical methods, at some future day. He could not, however, bring his church to continue the process. This is the first indication that the brethren were no longer to be relied on by him to go all lengths, and that some remnants of good feeling and good sense were to be found among them.

When you remember that the people targeted all belonged to Rebecca Nurse's family, who had been executed just three weeks earlier in a situation where Mr. Parris had played a major and responsible role, this action seems cruel, barbaric, and unnatural to anyone with a basic sense of humanity. Parris recorded this in his book, as he often did, some time after the event, as indicated by the date of Sept. 11. It’s unclear why he decided to start disciplining this grieving family. Perhaps he was trying to stir up feelings against them that would make it safe to accuse some of them of being "afflicted." Or maybe he wanted to push them out of his church to prevent the risk of them challenging him through church procedures in the future. However, he couldn't convince his church to continue this process. This is the first sign that his fellow church members were no longer willing to follow him blindly, and that some remnants of good feelings and common sense still existed among them.

But Mr. Parris was determined not to allow the public feeling against persons charged with witchcraft to subside, if he could help it; and he made one more effort to renew the vehemence of the prosecutions. He prepared and preached two sermons, on the 11th of September, from the text, Rev. xvii. 14: "These shall make war with the Lamb, and the Lamb shall overcome them: for he is[ii.487] Lord of lords, and King of kings; and they that are with him are called and chosen and faithful." They are entitled, "The Devil and his instruments will be warring against Christ and his followers." This note is added, "After the condemnation of six witches at a court at Salem, one of the witches, viz., Martha Corey, in full communion with our church." The following is a portion of "the improvement" in the application of these discourses:—

But Mr. Parris was determined not to let public sentiment against people accused of witchcraft fade away if he could help it; so he made one more attempt to reignite the intensity of the prosecutions. He wrote and delivered two sermons on September 11th, using the text from Rev. xvii. 14: "These shall make war with the Lamb, and the Lamb shall overcome them: for he is[ii.487] Lord of lords, and King of kings; and they that are with him are called and chosen and faithful." They are titled, "The Devil and his instruments will be warring against Christ and his followers." A note is added, "After the condemnation of six witches at a court in Salem, one of the witches, namely Martha Corey, is in full communion with our church." Below is a portion of "the improvement" in the application of these discourses:—

"It may serve to reprove such as seem to be so amazed at the war the Devil has raised amongst us by wizards and witches, against the Lamb and his followers, that they altogether deny it. If ever there were witches, men and women in covenant with the Devil, here are multitudes in New England. Nor is it so strange a thing that there should be such; no, nor that some church-members should be such. Pious Bishop Hall saith, 'The Devil's prevalency in this age is most clear in the marvellous number of witches abounding in all places. Now hundreds (says he) are discovered in one shire; and, if fame deceive us not, in a village of fourteen houses in the north are found so many of this damned brood. Heretofore, only barbarous deserts had them; but now the civilized and religious parts are frequently pestered with them. Heretofore, some silly, ignorant old woman, &c.; but now we have known those of both sexes who professed much knowledge, holiness, and devotion, drawn into this damnable practice.'"

"It might be worth pointing out to those who seem so shocked by the war the Devil has stirred up among us through wizards and witches, fighting against the Lamb and his followers, that they completely deny its existence. If there have ever been witches, both men and women in league with the Devil, there are many here in New England. It's not that surprising that such people exist; nor is it strange that some church members are among them. The pious Bishop Hall says, 'The Devil's influence in this age is clear given the astonishing number of witches found everywhere. Now hundreds (he claims) are uncovered in one county; and if we're not mistaken, there are so many of this cursed group in a village of just fourteen houses in the north. Previously, only remote, wild areas had them; but now the civil and religious regions are often plagued by them. Before, it was just some foolish, ignorant old woman, etc.; but now we have seen individuals of both sexes who profess great knowledge, holiness, and devotion, drawn into this wicked practice.'"

The foregoing extract is important as showing that some persons at the village had begun to express their disbelief of the witchcraft doctrine of Mr. Parris, "altogether denying it." The title and drift of the sermons in connection with the date, and his proceedings, the month before, against Samuel Nurse, Tarbell, and Cloyse, members of his church, give color to the idea that he was designing to have them "cried out" against, and thus disposed of. It is a noticeable fact, that, about this time, Cotton Mather was also laying his plans for a renewal, or rather continuance, of witchcraft prosecutions. Nine days after these sermons were preached by Parris, Mather wrote the following letter to Stephen Sewall of Salem:—

The previous excerpt is significant because it shows that some people in the village had started to express their disbelief in Mr. Parris's witchcraft theories, "completely rejecting it." The title and focus of the sermons, along with the events from the month before involving Samuel Nurse, Tarbell, and Cloyse—members of his church—suggest that he was planning to have them "accused" and thus dealt with. It’s important to note that around this time, Cotton Mather was also strategizing to restart, or rather continue, witchcraft prosecutions. Nine days after Parris delivered these sermons, Mather wrote the following letter to Stephen Sewall in Salem:—

Boston, Sept. 20, 1692.

Boston, Sept. 20, 1692.

My dear and my very obliging Stephen,—It is my hap to be continually ... with all sorts of objections, and objectors against the ... work now doing at Salem; and it is my further good hap to do some little service for God and you in my encounters.[ii.488]

My dear and incredibly helpful Stephen,—I often find myself ... facing all kinds of objections and critics regarding the ... work currently taking place in Salem; and I’m also fortunate to be able to do a small service for God and you in these encounters.[ii.488]

But that I may be the more capable to assist in lifting up a standard against the infernal enemy, I must renew my most importunate request, that you would please quickly to perform what you kindly promised, of giving me a narrative of the evidences given in at the trials of half a dozen, or if you please a dozen, of the principal witches that have been condemned. I know 'twill cost you some time; but, when you are sensible of the benefit that will follow, I know you will not think much of that cost; and my own willingness to expose myself unto the utmost for the defence of my friends with you makes me presume to plead something of merit to be considered.

But to better help in raising a standard against the evil enemy, I must renew my urgent request that you quickly fulfill your kind promise to provide me with a narrative of the evidence presented during the trials of half a dozen, or if you prefer, a dozen of the main witches who were condemned. I know it will take some of your time, but once you see the benefits that will come from it, I’m sure you won’t mind the effort. My own willingness to put myself on the line for the defense of my friends alongside you gives me reason to ask for some consideration in this matter.

I shall be content, if you draw up the desired narrative by way of letter to me; or, at least, let it not come without a letter, wherein you shall, if you can, intimate over again what you have sometimes told me of the awe which is upon the hearts of your juries, with ... unto the validity of the spectral evidences.

I’ll be happy if you write me the narrative in a letter; or at the very least, don’t send it without a letter where you can, if possible, remind me about the fear that your juries feel regarding the validity of the spectral evidence.

Please also to ... some of your observations about the confessors and the credibility of what they assert, or about things evidently preternatural in the witchcrafts, and whatever else you may account an entertainment, for an inquisitive person, that entirely loves you and Salem. Nay, though I will never lay aside the character which I mentioned in my last words, yet I am willing, that, when you write, you should imagine me as obstinate a Sadducee and witch-advocate as any among us: address me as one that believed nothing reasonable; and when you have so knocked me down, in a spectre so unlike me, you will enable me to box it about among my neighbors, till it come—I know not where at last.

Please also share some of your thoughts on the confessors and how credible their claims are, or about things that are clearly supernatural in the witchcraft situations, and anything else you think would be interesting for someone who's curious and cares about you and Salem. Even though I will never drop the persona I mentioned in my last message, I’m okay with you imagining me as stubborn as a Sadducee and a supporter of witchcraft just like anyone else around here: treat me like someone who believes in nothing logical; and once you’ve brought me down like that, you’ll let me toss this idea around with my neighbors until it ends up—I have no idea where—eventually.

But assure yourself, as I shall not wittingly make what you write prejudicial to any worthy design which those two excellent persons, Mr. Hale and Mr. Noyse, may have in hand; so you shall find that I shall be, sir, your grateful friend,

But rest assured, I won’t intentionally make what you write harmful to any good plans that those two great individuals, Mr. Hale and Mr. Noyse, may have in progress; you will find that I will be, sir, your thankful friend,

C. Mather.

C. Mather

P.S.—That which very much strengthens the charms of the request which this letter makes you is, that His Excellency the Governor laid his positive commands upon me to desire this favor of you; and the truth is, there are some of his circumstances with reference to this affair, which I need not mention, that call for the expediting of your kindness,—kindness, I say, for such it will be esteemed as well by him as by your servant,

P.S.—What really adds to the appeal of this request is that His Excellency the Governor specifically instructed me to ask you for this favor; the truth is, there are certain details regarding this matter, which I don't need to go into, that make your prompt kindness essential—kindness, I say, because it will be appreciated by both him and by me.

C. Mather.

C. Mather.

In order to understand the character and aim of this letter, it will be necessary to consider its date. It was written Sept. 20, 1692. On the 19th of August, but one month before, Dr. Mather[ii.489] was acting a conspicuous part under the gallows at Witch-hill, at the execution of Mr. Burroughs and four others, increasing the power of the awful delusion, and inflaming the passions of the people. On the 9th of September, six more miserable creatures received sentence of death. On the 17th of September, nine more received sentence of death. On the 19th of September, Giles Corey was crushed to death. And, on the 22d of September, eight were executed. These were the last that suffered death. The letter, therefore, was written while the horrors of the transaction were at their height, and by a person who had himself been a witness of them, and whose "good hap" it had been to "do some little service" in promoting them. The object of the writer is declared to be, that he might be "more capable to assist in lifting up a standard against the infernal enemy." The literal meaning of this expression is, that he might be enabled to get up another witchcraft delusion under his own special management and control. Can any thing be imagined more artful and dishonest than the plan he had contrived to keep himself out of sight in all the operations necessary to accomplish his purpose? "Nay, though I will never lay aside the character which I mentioned in my last words, yet I am willing, that, when you write, you should imagine me as obstinate a Sadducee and witch-advocate as any among us: address me as one that believed nothing reasonable; and when you have so knocked me down, in a spectre so unlike me, you will enable me to box it about among my neighbors, till it come—I know not where at last."

To understand the character and purpose of this letter, we need to look at when it was written. It was dated September 20, 1692. Just a month earlier, on August 19, Dr. Mather[ii.489] played a significant role at Witch-hill during the execution of Mr. Burroughs and four others, fueling the terrifying delusion and stirring up the emotions of the crowd. On September 9, six more unfortunate souls were sentenced to death. On September 17, another nine people faced the same fate. On September 19, Giles Corey was crushed to death. And on September 22, eight more were executed. These were the last victims of the death sentences. The letter was thus written when the horrors of these events were at their peak, by someone who had witnessed them firsthand and who had taken "some little service" in supporting them. The writer's declared goal is to become "more capable to assist in lifting up a standard against the infernal enemy." This literally means that they wanted to start another witchcraft delusion under their own direction. Can anything be more cunning and deceitful than the plan they devised to stay hidden while orchestrating everything to achieve their aim? "No, even though I will never abandon the persona I mentioned in my last words, I'm willing for you to picture me as the most obstinate Sadducee and witch-supporter of them all: address me as someone who believes nothing rational; and when you have knocked me down into a version so unlike myself, you'll allow me to push it around among my neighbors until it ends up—I don’t know where."

Upon obtaining the document requisite to the fulfilment of his design, he did "box it about" so effectually among his neighbors, that he succeeded that next summer in getting up a wonderful case of witchcraft, in the person of one Margaret Rule, a member of his congregation in Boston. Dr. Mather published an account of her long-continued fastings, even unto the ninth day, and of the incredible sufferings she endured from the "infernal enemy." "She was thrown," says he, "into such exorbitant convulsions as were astonishing to the spectators in general. They that could behold the doleful condition of the poor family without sensible compassions might have entrails, indeed, but I am sure they could have no true bowels in them." So far was he successful in spreading the delusion, that he prevailed upon six men to testify[ii.490] that they had seen Margaret Rule lifted bodily from her bed, and raised by an invisible power "so as to touch the garret floor;" that she was entirely removed from the bed or any other material support; that she continued suspended for several minutes; and that a strong man, assisted by several other persons, could not effectually resist the mysterious force that lifted her up, and poised her aloft in the air! The people of Boston were saved from the horrors intended to be brought upon them by this dark and deep-laid plot, by the activity, courage, and discernment of Calef and others, who distrusted Dr. Mather, and, by watching his movements, exposed the imposture, and overthrew the whole design.

After getting the necessary document for his plan, he spread it around so effectively among his neighbors that the following summer he managed to create a sensational witchcraft case involving a woman named Margaret Rule, who was part of his congregation in Boston. Dr. Mather published a report on her extended fasting, lasting up to nine days, and on the unbelievable suffering she faced from the "infernal enemy." "She was thrown," he said, "into such extreme convulsions that they astonished everyone watching. Anyone who could see the unfortunate state of her family without feeling compassion must have had insides, but I’m sure they couldn’t have had any real empathy." He was so successful in spreading this delusion that he convinced six men to testify[ii.490] they had seen Margaret Rule lifted from her bed by an invisible force "to touch the garret floor;" that she was completely raised from the bed or any other physical support; that she remained suspended for several minutes; and that even a strong man, with help from several others, couldn’t resist the mysterious force that lifted her and held her in the air! The people of Boston were spared from the horrors intended to be inflicted upon them by this dark and complicated plot, thanks to the efforts, bravery, and insight of Calef and others who distrusted Dr. Mather and uncovered the fraud by monitoring his actions, effectively dismantling the entire scheme.

Mr. Parris does not appear to have produced much effect by his sermons. The people had suffered enough from the "war between the Devil and the Lamb," as he and Mather had conducted it; and it could not be renewed.

Mr. Parris doesn't seem to have made much of an impact with his sermons. The people had suffered enough from the "war between the Devil and the Lamb," as he and Mather had waged it; it couldn't be brought back.

Immediately upon the termination of the witchcraft proceedings, the controversy between Mr. Parris and the congregation, or the inhabitants, as they were called, of the village, was renewed, with earnest resolution on their part to get rid of him. The parish neglected and refused to raise the means for paying his salary; and a majority of the voters, in the meetings of the "inhabitants," vigilantly resisted all attempts in his favor. The church was still completely under his influence; and, as has been stated in the First Part, he made use of that body to institute a suit against the people. The court and magistrates were wholly in his favor, and peremptorily ordered the appointment, by the people, of a new committee. The inhabitants complied with the order by the election of a new committee, but took care to have it composed exclusively of men opposed to Mr. Parris; and he found himself no better off than before. He concluded not to employ his church any longer as a principal agent in his lawsuit against the parish; but used it for another purpose.

Immediately after the witchcraft trials ended, the conflict between Mr. Parris and the congregation, or the townspeople, as they were called, flared up again, with a strong determination on their part to get rid of him. The parish neglected and refused to gather funds to pay his salary; and a majority of the voters in the meetings of the "inhabitants" actively opposed all efforts to support him. The church was still completely under his influence; and, as mentioned in the First Part, he used that influence to file a lawsuit against the community. The court and magistrates were fully on his side and ordered the townspeople to appoint a new committee. The townspeople followed the order by electing a new committee but made sure it was made up entirely of people who opposed Mr. Parris, leaving him no better off than before. He decided not to use his church as his main tool in his legal battle against the parish anymore; instead, he turned it to a different purpose.

After the explosion of the witchcraft delusion, the relations of parties became entirely changed. The prosecutors at the trials were put on the defensive, and felt themselves in peril. Parris saw his danger, and, with characteristic courage and fertility of resources, prepared to defend himself, and carry the war upon any quarter from which an attack might be apprehended. He[ii.491] continued, on his own responsibility, to prosecute, in court, his suit against the parish, and in his usual trenchant style. As the law then was, a minister, in a controversy with his parish, had a secure advantage, and absolutely commanded the situation, if his church were with him. From the time of his settlement, Parris had shaped his policy on this basis. He had sought to make his church an impregnable fortress against his opponents. But, to be impregnable, it was necessary that there should be no enemies within it. A few disaffected brethren could at any time demand, and have a claim to, a mutual council; and Mr. Parris knew, that, before the investigations of such a council, his actions in the witchcraft prosecutions could not stand. This perhaps suggested his movements, in August, 1692, against Samuel Nurse, John Tarbell, and Peter Cloyse. He did not at that time succeed in getting rid of them; and they remained in the church, and, with the exception of Cloyse, in the village. They might at any time take the steps that would lead to a mutual council; and Mr. Parris was determined, at all events, to prevent that. It was evident that the members of that family would insist upon satisfaction being given them, in and through the church, for the wrongs he had done them. Although, in the absence of Cloyse, but two in number, there was danger that sympathy for them might reach others of the brethren. Thomas Wilkins, a member in good standing, son of old Bray Wilkins, and a connection of John Willard, an intelligent and resolute man, had already joined them. Parris felt that others might follow, and that whatever could be done to counteract them must be done quickly. He accordingly initiated proceedings in his church to rid himself of them, if not by excommunication, at least by getting them under discipline, so as to prevent the possibility of their dealing with him.

After the witchcraft panic exploded, the dynamics between the parties completely shifted. The prosecutors in the trials found themselves on the defensive and felt threatened. Parris recognized his own danger and, showing his typical courage and resourcefulness, prepared to defend himself and launch a counterattack from any direction where he sensed danger. He[ii.491] continued, on his own initiative, to pursue his case against the parish in court, using his usual sharp approach. At that time, the law favored ministers in disputes with their parish, giving them a strong advantage as long as their church backed them. From the start of his tenure, Parris had structured his strategy around this advantage. He aimed to turn his church into a fortress against his adversaries. However, to be truly secure, he needed to ensure there were no enemies within its walls. A few dissenting members could always call for, and have a right to, a mutual council; and Mr. Parris was aware that, under the scrutiny of such a council, his actions during the witch trials wouldn't hold up. This likely influenced his actions in August 1692 against Samuel Nurse, John Tarbell, and Peter Cloyse. At that time, he didn't succeed in getting rid of them; they remained part of the church, and, aside from Cloyse, still lived in the village. They could take steps that would lead to a mutual council any time, and Mr. Parris was determined to prevent that no matter what. It was clear that this family would demand accountability from him through the church for the wrongs he had inflicted upon them. Although there were only two remaining without Cloyse, there was a risk that their situation might resonate with other church members. Thomas Wilkins, a respected member and son of old Bray Wilkins, and related to John Willard, an insightful and determined man, had already allied with them. Parris sensed that others might join them and knew that he needed to act quickly to counter their influence. He therefore initiated actions within his church to eliminate them, if not through excommunication, then at least by placing them under disciplinary measures to prevent them from challenging him.

This led to one of the most remarkable passages of the kind in the annals of the New-England churches. It is narrated in detail by Mr. Parris, in his church record-book. It would not be easy to find anywhere an example of greater skill, wariness, or ability in a conflict of this sort. On the one side is Mr. Parris, backed by his church and the magistrates, and aided, it is probable, by Mr. Noyes; on the other, three husbandmen. They had no known backers or advisers; and, at frequent stages of the fencing match, had to parry or strike, without time to consult any[ii.492] one. Mr. Parris was ingenious, quick, a great strategist, and not over-scrupulous as to the use of his weapons. Nurse, Tarbell, and Wilkins were cautious, cool, steady, and persistent. Of course, they were wholly inexperienced in such things, and liable to make wrong moves, or to be driven or drawn to untenable ground. But they will not be found, I think, to have taken a false step from beginning to end. Their line of action was extremely narrow. It was necessary to avoid all personalities, and every appearance of passion or excitement; to make no charge against Mr. Parris that could touch the church, as such, or reflect upon the courts, magistrates, or any others that had taken part in the prosecutions. It was necessary to avoid putting any thing into writing, with their names attached, which could in any way be tortured into a libel. Parris lets fall expressions which show that he was on the watch for something of the kind to seize upon, to transfer the movement from the church to the courts. Entirely unaccustomed to public speaking, these three farmers had to meet assemblages composed of their opponents, and much wrought up against them; to make statements, and respond to interrogatories and propositions, the full and ultimate bearing of which was not always apparent: any unguarded expression might be fatal to their cause. Their safety depended upon using the right word at the right time and in the right manner, and in withholding the statement of their grievances, in adequate force of language, until they were under the shelter of a council. If, during the long-protracted conferences and communications, they had tripped at any point, allowed a phrase or syllable to escape which might be made the ground of discipline or censure, all would be lost; for Parris could not be reached but through a council, and a council could not even be asked for except by brethren in full and clear standing. It was often attempted to ensnare them into making charges against the church; but they kept their eye on Parris, and, as they told him more than once in the presence of the whole body of the people, on him alone. Limited as the ground was on which they could stand, they held it steadfastly, and finally drove him from his stronghold.

This led to one of the most remarkable chapters in the history of New England churches. It is detailed by Mr. Parris in his church record book. It wouldn’t be easy to find a better example of skill, caution, or ability in such a conflict. On one side was Mr. Parris, supported by his church and the magistrates, and possibly aided by Mr. Noyes; on the other were three farmers. They had no known supporters or advisors and often had to react without time to consult anyone. Mr. Parris was clever, quick, a great strategist, and not overly scrupulous about how he used his tactics. Nurse, Tarbell, and Wilkins were careful, calm, steady, and persistent. They were completely inexperienced in such matters and might have made mistakes or been pushed to weak positions. However, I believe they didn’t take a false step from start to finish. Their course of action was extremely limited. They needed to avoid personal attacks and any appearance of anger or excitement; to make no accusations against Mr. Parris that could implicate the church or reflect poorly on the courts, magistrates, or anyone else involved in the prosecutions. They had to avoid putting anything in writing with their names attached that could be twisted into a libel. Parris made remarks that suggested he was looking for something to latch onto, to shift the focus from the church to the courts. Completely unaccustomed to public speaking, these three farmers had to face crowds made up of their opponents, who were very hostile towards them; they needed to state their case and respond to questions and proposals that weren’t always clear in their implications: any careless remark could ruin their case. Their safety depended on saying the right word at the right time and in the right way, and on keeping their grievances under wraps until they had the protection of a council. If, during the lengthy discussions and exchanges, they slipped up at any point or let a phrase slip that could be used against them, it would all be over; Parris could only be challenged through a council, and a council could not even be requested except by members in good standing. They were often tempted to make accusations against the church; however, they kept their focus on Parris and, as they said more than once in front of the whole crowd, on him alone. Despite the narrow ground they stood on, they held their ground firmly and finally forced him out of his position.

On the first movement of Mr. Parris offensively upon them, they commenced their movement upon him. The method by which alone they could proceed, according to ecclesiastical law[ii.493] and the platform of the churches, was precisely as it was understood to be laid down in Matt. xviii. 15-17. Following these directions, Samuel Nurse first called alone upon Mr. Parris, and privately made known his grievances. Parris gave him no satisfaction. Then, after a due interval, Nurse, Tarbell, and Wilkins called upon him together. He refused to see them together, but one at a time was allowed to go up into his study. Tarbell and Nurse each spent an hour or more with him, leaving no time for Wilkins. In these interviews, he not only failed to give satisfaction, but, according to his own account, treated them in the coolest and most unfeeling manner, not allowing himself to utter a soothing word, but actually reiterating his belief of the guilt of their mother; telling them, as he says, "that he had not seen sufficient grounds to vary his opinion." Cloyse came soon after to the village, and had an interview with him for the same purpose. Parris saw them one only at a time, in order to preclude their taking the second step required by the gospel rule; that is, to have a brother of the church with them as a witness. He also took the ground that they could not be witnesses for each other, but that he should treat them all as only one person in the transaction. A sense of the injustice of his conduct, or some other consideration, led William Way, another of the brethren, to go with them as a witness. Nurse, Tarbell, Wilkins, Cloyse, and Way went to his house together. He said that the four first were but one person in the case; but admitted that Way was a distinct person, a brother of accredited standing, and a witness. He escaped, however, under the subterfuge that the gospel rule required "two or three witnesses." In this way, the matter stood for some time; Parris saying that they had not complied with the conditions in Matt. xviii., and they maintaining that they had.

On the first act of Mr. Parris being offensive toward them, they began their move against him. The only way they could proceed, according to church law[ii.493] and the church's guidelines, was exactly as outlined in Matt. xviii. 15-17. Following these instructions, Samuel Nurse first visited Mr. Parris alone and privately shared his complaints. Parris didn’t address his concerns. Then, after a reasonable time, Nurse, Tarbell, and Wilkins visited him together. He refused to meet with them all at once, allowing them to come up to his study one at a time instead. Tarbell and Nurse each spent over an hour with him, leaving no time for Wilkins. In these meetings, he not only failed to provide any satisfaction, but according to his own words, he treated them in an extremely cold and uncaring way, refusing to say anything comforting and even repeating his belief in their mother's guilt, telling them that he hadn’t seen enough reason to change his opinion. Cloyse came to the village soon after to have a conversation with him for the same reason. Parris saw them one at a time to prevent them from taking the second step required by the gospel, which was to have a church member with them as a witness. He also claimed that they couldn’t serve as witnesses for each other and insisted on treating them all as one individual in this matter. Feeling the unfairness of his actions, or for some other reason, William Way, another church member, joined them as a witness. Nurse, Tarbell, Wilkins, Cloyse, and Way went to his house together. Parris claimed that the first four were just one person in the matter, but he acknowledged that Way was a separate person, a respected brother and a witness. He managed to evade the issue, claiming that the gospel rule required “two or three witnesses.” This situation continued for some time, with Parris insisting that they hadn’t met the conditions in Matt. xviii., while they argued that they had.

The course of Parris was fast diminishing his hold upon the public confidence. It was plain that the disaffected brethren had done what they could, in an orderly way, to procure a council. At length, the leading clergymen here and in Boston, whose minds were open to reason, thought it their duty to interpose their advice. They wrote to Parris, that he and his church ought to consent to a council. They wrote a second time in stronger terms. Not daring to quarrel with so large a portion of the clergy, Parris pretended to comply with their advice, but demanded a majority of the coun[ii.494]cil to be chosen by him and his church. The disaffected brethren insisted upon a fair, mutual council; each party to have three ministers, with their delegates, in it. To this, Parris had finally to agree. The dissatisfied brethren named, as one of their three, a church at Ipswich. Parris objected to the Ipswich church. The dissenting brethren insisted that each side should be free to select its respective three churches. Parris was not willing to have Ipswich in the council. The other party insisted, and here the matter hung suspended. The truth is, that the disaffected brethren were resolved to have the Rev. John Wise in the council. They knew Cotton Mather would be there, on the side of Parris; and they knew that John Wise was the man to meet him. The public opinion settled down in favor of the dissatisfied brethren, on the ground that each party to a mutual council ought to—and, to make it really mutual, must—have free and full power to nominate the churches to be called by it. Parris, being afraid to have a mutual council, and particularly if Mr. Wise was in it, suddenly took a new position. He and his church called an ex parte council, at which the following ministers, with their delegates, were present: Samuel Checkley of the New South Church, James Allen of the First Church, Samuel Willard of the Old South, Increase and Cotton Mather of the North Church,—all of Boston; Samuel Torrey of Weymouth; Samuel Phillips of Rowley, and Edward Payson, also of Rowley. Among the delegates were many of the leading public men of the province. The result was essentially damaging to Mr. Parris. The tide was now strongly set against him. The Boston ministers advised him to withdraw from the contest. They provided a settlement for him in Connecticut, and urged him to quit the village, and go there. But he refused, and prolonged the struggle. In the course of it, papers were drawn up and signed, one by his friends, another by his opponents, together embracing nearly all the men and women of the village. Those who did not sign either paper were understood to sympathize with the disaffected brethren. Many who signed the paper favorable to him acted undoubtedly from the motive stated in the heading; viz., that the removal of Mr. Parris could do no good, "for we have had three ministers removed already, and by every removal our differences have been rather aggravated." Another removal, they thought, would utterly ruin them. They[ii.495] do not express any particular interest in Mr. Parris, but merely dread another change. They preferred to bear the ills they had, rather than fly to others that they knew not of. It is a very significant fact, that neither Mrs. Ann Putnam nor the widow Sarah Houlton signed either paper (the Sarah Houlton whose name appears was the wife of Joseph Houlton, Sr.). There is reason to believe that they regretted the part they had taken, particularly against Rebecca Nurse, and probably did not feel over favorably to the person who had led them into their dreadful responsibility.

The influence of Parris was quickly fading among the public. It was clear that the unhappy members had done everything they could, in a calm manner, to organize a council. Finally, the leading ministers here and in Boston, who were open to reasoning, felt it was their duty to offer their advice. They wrote to Parris, suggesting that he and his church should agree to a council. They wrote again with stronger language. Not wanting to clash with such a significant portion of the clergy, Parris pretended to accept their advice but insisted that the majority of the council be chosen by him and his church. The discontented members demanded a fair, mutual council; each side was to have three ministers, along with their delegates, included in it. In the end, Parris had to agree to this. The dissatisfied members appointed a church from Ipswich as one of their three choices. Parris objected to the Ipswich church. The dissenters argued that each side should be allowed to choose its own three churches. Parris was unwilling to include Ipswich in the council. The other side insisted, and the issue remained unresolved. The truth is that the discontented members were determined to include Rev. John Wise in the council. They knew that Cotton Mather would represent Parris; and they recognized that John Wise was the best person to contend with him. Public opinion shifted in favor of the dissatisfied members, based on the belief that each party in a mutual council should—and to make it truly mutual, must—have the freedom to nominate the churches involved. Parris, fearing a mutual council, especially if Mr. Wise was included, abruptly changed his stance. He and his church called for a one-sided council, which included the following ministers and their delegates: Samuel Checkley of the New South Church, James Allen of the First Church, Samuel Willard of the Old South, and Increase and Cotton Mather of the North Church, all from Boston; Samuel Torrey of Weymouth; Samuel Phillips of Rowley; and Edward Payson, also from Rowley. Among the delegates were many of the leading figures in the province. The outcome was significantly damaging to Mr. Parris. The public sentiment had turned strongly against him. The Boston ministers advised him to step back from the dispute. They arranged for his relocation to Connecticut and urged him to leave the village for that purpose. But he refused and continued the conflict. During this time, documents were drafted and signed—one by his supporters, another by his opponents—essentially encompassing nearly all the men and women in the village. Those who did not sign either document were presumed to sympathize with the discontented members. Many who signed the supportive paper likely did so out of the reasoning stated in the title, that the removal of Mr. Parris would be pointless, "for we have had three ministers removed already, and with each removal, our differences have only worsened." They believed another removal would ruin them completely. They did not express any particular support for Mr. Parris but simply feared another change. They preferred to endure the problems they had rather than risk unknown ones. It is very significant that neither Mrs. Ann Putnam nor the widow Sarah Houlton signed either document (the Sarah Houlton mentioned was the wife of Joseph Houlton, Sr.). There is reason to think they regretted their involvement, especially against Rebecca Nurse, and probably felt less than favorable toward the person who had led them into such a terrible situation.

In the mean time, the controversy continued to wax warm among the people. Mr. Parris was determined to hold his place, and, with it, the parsonage and ministry lands. The opposition was active, unappeasable, and effective. The following paper, handed about, illustrates the methods by which they assailed him:—

In the meantime, the controversy kept heating up among the people. Mr. Parris was set on keeping his position, along with the parsonage and ministry lands. The opposition was active, relentless, and impactful. The following document, circulated among the community, shows the tactics they used against him:—

"As to the contest between Mr. Parris and his hearers, &c., it may be composed by a satisfactory answer to Lev. xx. 6: 'And the soul that turneth after such as have familiar spirits, and after wizards, to go a-whoring after them, I will set my face against that soul, and will cut him off from among his people.' 1 Chron. x. 13, 14: 'So Saul died for his transgression which he committed against the Lord,—even against the word of the Lord, which he kept not,—and also for asking counsel of one who had a familiar to inquire of it, and inquired not of the Lord: therefore he slew him,'" &c.

"As for the conflict between Mr. Parris and his audience, it can be addressed by referencing Leviticus 20:6: 'Anyone who turns to mediums and spiritists and seeks to prostitute themselves by following them, I will set my face against that person and will cut them off from their people.' 1 Chronicles 10:13-14: 'So Saul died because of his unfaithfulness to the Lord. He did not keep the word of the Lord and even consulted a medium for guidance instead of seeking the Lord. So the Lord put him to death.'"

Mr. Parris mirrored, or rather daguerrotyped, his inmost thoughts upon the page of his church record-book. Whatever feeling happened to exercise his spirit, found expression there. This gives it a truly rare and singular interest. Among a variety of scraps variegating the record, and thrown in with other notices of deaths, he has the following:—

Mr. Parris captured, or rather took a snapshot of, his deepest thoughts in the pages of his church record book. Whatever emotion stirred within him found its way onto those pages. This gives it a truly unique and special appeal. Among the different bits of information mixed in with other notices of deaths, he included the following:—

"1694, Oct. 27.—Ruth, daughter to Job Swinnerton (died), and buried the 28th instant, being the Lord's Day; and the corpse carried by the meeting-house door in time of singing before meeting afternoon, and more at the funeral than at the sermon."

"1694, Oct. 27.—Ruth, daughter of Job Swinnerton (deceased), was buried on the 28th, which was a Sunday; her body was taken by the meeting-house door during singing before the afternoon meeting, and there were more people at the funeral than at the sermon."

This illustrates the state of things. The Swinnerton family were all along opposed to Mr. Parris, and kept remarkably clear from the witchcraft delusion. Originally, it was not customary to have prayers at funerals. At any rate, all that Mr. Parris had to do on the occasion was to witness and record the fact, which he[ii.496] indites in the pithy manner in which he often relieves his mind, that more people went to the distant burial-ground than came to hear him preach. The procession was made up of his opponents; the congregation, of his friends. At last, Captain John Putnam proposed that each party should choose an equal number from themselves to decide the controversy; and that Major Bartholomew Gedney, from the town, should be invited to act as moderator of the joint meeting. Both sides agreed, and appointed their representatives. Major Gedney consented to preside. But this movement came to nothing, probably owing to the refractoriness of Mr. Parris; for, from that moment, he had no supporters. The church ceased to act: its members were merged in the meeting of the inhabitants. There was no longer any division among them. The party that had acted as friends of Mr. Parris united thenceforward with his opponents to defend the parish in the suit he had brought against it in the courts. The controversy was quite protracted. The Court was determined to uphold him, and expressed its prejudice against the parish, sometimes with considerable severity of manner and action.[L]

This shows the situation clearly. The Swinnerton family had always been against Mr. Parris and stayed far from the witchcraft frenzy. At first, it wasn’t common to have prayers at funerals. Regardless, all Mr. Parris needed to do during this event was to witness and note the fact, which he[ii.496] records in his usual blunt style, that more people attended the distant burial ground than came to hear him preach. The procession was made up of his opponents, while the congregation consisted of his supporters. Eventually, Captain John Putnam suggested that both sides choose an equal number of representatives to settle the dispute, and that Major Bartholomew Gedney, from the town, should be asked to act as the moderator for the joint meeting. Both sides agreed and appointed their representatives. Major Gedney accepted the role of presiding officer. However, this effort didn’t work out, likely because Mr. Parris no longer had any supporters from that point on. The church stopped functioning: its members merged with the gathering of townspeople. There was no longer any division among them. The group that had previously supported Mr. Parris joined forces with his opponents to defend the parish in the lawsuit he had filed against it in court. The dispute dragged on for quite a while. The Court was determined to support him and showed its bias against the parish, sometimes quite harshly in both words and actions.[L]

The parish heeded not the frowns of the Court, but persisted inexorably in its purpose to get rid of Mr. Parris. After an obstinate contest, it prevailed. In the last stage of the controversy, it appointed four men, as its agents or attorneys, whose names indicate the spirit in which it acted,—John Tarbell, Samuel Nurse, Daniel Andrew, and Joseph Putnam. His dauntless son did not follow the wolf through the deep and dark recesses of his den with a more determined resolution than that with which Joseph Putnam pursued Samuel Parris through the windings of the law, until he ferreted him out, and rid the village of him for ever.

The parish ignored the Court's disapproval and was relentless in its goal to get rid of Mr. Parris. After a stubborn battle, it succeeded. In the final phase of the dispute, it appointed four men as its representatives, whose names reflect the spirit of their actions—John Tarbell, Samuel Nurse, Daniel Andrew, and Joseph Putnam. Joseph Putnam pursued Samuel Parris with even more determination than a fearless wolf tracking its prey through the dark depths of its lair, until he finally exposed him and freed the village for good.

Finally, the inferior court of Common Pleas, before which Mr. Parris had carried the case, ordered that the matters in controversy between him and the inhabitants of Salem Village should be referred to arbitrators for decision. The following statement was laid before them by the persons representing the inhabitants:—

Finally, the lower court of Common Pleas, where Mr. Parris had taken the case, ordered that the issues in dispute between him and the residents of Salem Village should be sent to arbitrators for a decision. The following statement was presented to them by the representatives of the residents:—

"To the Honorable Wait Winthrop, Elisha Cook, and Samuel Sewall, Esquires, Arbitrators, indifferently chosen, between Mr. Samuel Parris and the Inhabitants of Salem Village.

"To the Honorable Wait Winthrop, Elisha Cook, and Samuel Sewall, Esquires, Arbitrators, fairly chosen, between Mr. Samuel Parris and the Residents of Salem Village.

"The Remonstrances of several Aggrieved Persons in the said Village, with further Reasons why they conceive they ought not to hear Mr. Parris, nor to own him as a Minister of the Gospel, nor to contribute any Support to him as such for several years past, humbly offered as fit for consideration.

"The complaints from several unhappy individuals in the village, along with additional reasons why they believe they should not listen to Mr. Parris, recognize him as a Minister of the Gospel, or provide any support to him in that role for several years now, are respectfully submitted for consideration.

"We humbly conceive that, having, in April, 1693, given our reasons why we could not join with Mr. Parris in prayer, preaching, or sacrament, if these reasons are found sufficient for our withdrawing (and we cannot yet find but they are), then we conceive ourselves virtually discharged, not only in conscience, but also in law, which re[ii.498]quires maintenance to be given to such as are orthodox and blameless; the said Mr. Parris having been teaching such dangerous errors, and preached such scandalous immoralities, as ought to discharge any (though ever so gifted otherways) from the work of the ministry, particularly in his oath against the lives of several, wherein he swears that the prisoners with their looks knock down those pretended sufferers. We humbly conceive that he that swears to more than he is certain of, is equally guilty of perjury with him that swears to what is false. And though they did fall at such a time, yet it could not be known that they did it, much less could they be certain of it; yet did swear positively against the lives of such as he could not have any knowledge but they might be innocent.

We believe that, having explained in April 1693 why we cannot join Mr. Parris in prayer, preaching, or communion, and if our reasons are deemed sufficient for our withdrawal (and we still believe they are), we consider ourselves effectively released, both in conscience and in law, which requires support for those who are orthodox and blameless. Mr. Parris has been teaching dangerous errors and preaching scandalous immoralities, which should disqualify anyone (no matter how otherwise gifted) from the ministry, especially given his claim against the lives of several people, where he asserts that the prisoners' looks are causing harm to the supposed victims. We believe that someone who swears to more than they are certain of is just as guilty of perjury as someone who swears to something false. And although those events may have occurred at such a time, it was impossible to know for sure if they did; much less could he be certain of it, yet he swore definitively against the lives of individuals whom he had no knowledge of and who might very well be innocent.

"His believing the Devil's accusations, and readily departing from all charity to persons, though of blameless and godly lives, upon such suggestions; his promoting such accusations; as also his partiality therein in stifling the accusations of some, and, at the same time, vigilantly promoting others,—as we conceive, are just causes for our refusal, &c.

"His belief in the Devil's accusations and his quickness to abandon all kindness toward people, even those with innocent and godly lives, based on such suggestions; his encouragement of such accusations; as well as his bias in silencing some accusations while actively promoting others—these are, in our opinion, valid reasons for our refusal, etc."

"That Mr. Parris's going to Mary Walcot or Abigail Williams, and directing others to them, to know who afflicted the people in their illnesses,—we understand this to be a dealing with them that have a familiar spirit, and an implicit denying the providence of God, who alone, as we believe, can send afflictions, or cause devils to afflict any: this we also conceive sufficient to justify such refusal.

"That Mr. Parris is going to Mary Walcot or Abigail Williams, and sending others to them to find out who is causing people's illnesses—we see this as engaging with those who have a familiar spirit and implicitly denying the providence of God, who alone, as we believe, can send afflictions or allow devils to afflict anyone: we also believe this is enough to justify such a refusal."

"That Mr. Parris, by these practices and principles, has been the beginner and procurer of the sorest afflictions, not to this village only, but to this whole country, that did ever befall them.

"Mr. Parris, through these actions and beliefs, has been the cause and instigator of the worst troubles, not just for this village but for the entire country, that have ever happened to them."

"We, the subscribers, in behalf of ourselves, and of several others of the same mind with us (touching these things), having some of us had our relations by these practices taken off by an untimely death; others have been imprisoned and suffered in our persons, reputations, and estates,—submit the whole to your honors' decision, to determine whether we are or ought to be any ways obliged to honor, respect, and support such an instrument of our miseries; praying God to guide your honors to act herein as may be for his glory, and the future settlement of our village in amity and unity.

"We, the subscribers, on behalf of ourselves and several others who share our views on these matters, some of whom have lost loved ones due to these practices, and others who have been imprisoned and suffered in our personal lives, reputations, and properties—submit everything for your honors' decision. Please determine whether we are or should be in any way obligated to honor, respect, and support such an instrument of our suffering. We pray that God guides your honors to act in a way that brings Him glory and ensures the future peace and unity of our village."

"John Tarbell,
Samuel Nurse,
Joseph Putnam,
Daniel Andrew,

"John Tarbell,
Samuel Nurse,
Joseph Putnam,
Daniel Andrew,"

Attorneys for the people of the Village.

Lawyers for the residents of the Village.

Boston, July 21, 1697."

Boston, July 21, 1697.

The arbitrators decided that the inhabitants should pay to Mr. Parris a certain amount for arrearages, and also the sum of £79. 9s. 6d. for all his right and interest in the ministry house and land, and that he be forthwith dismissed; and his ministerial relation to the church and society in Salem Village dissolved. The parish raised the money with great alacrity. Nathaniel Ingersoll, who had, as has been stated, made him a present at his settlement of a valuable piece of land adjoining the parsonage grounds, bought it back, paying him a liberal price for it, fully equal to its value; and he left the place, so far as appears, for ever.

The arbitrators decided that the residents should pay Mr. Parris a certain amount for back payments, as well as £79. 9s. 6d. for all his rights and interests in the ministry house and land, and that he be immediately dismissed; his ministerial relationship with the church and community in Salem Village was also ended. The parish gathered the money quickly. Nathaniel Ingersoll, who, as mentioned earlier, had given him a valuable piece of land next to the parsonage when he settled, bought it back, paying him a fair price for it, fully equal to its worth; and he left the area, as far as can be seen, for good.

On the 14th of July, 1696, in the midst of his controversy with his people, his wife died. She was an excellent woman; and was respected and lamented by all. He caused a stone slab to be placed at the head of her grave, with a suitable inscription, still plainly legible, concluding with four lines, to which his initials are appended, composed by him, of which this is one: "Farewell, best wife, choice mother, neighbor, friend." Her ashes rest in what is called the Wadsworth burial ground.

On July 14, 1696, during his conflict with his community, his wife passed away. She was a remarkable woman who was respected and mourned by everyone. He had a stone slab placed at the head of her grave with an inscription that is still clearly readable, ending with four lines he wrote himself, which includes this line: "Farewell, best wife, choice mother, neighbor, friend." Her ashes are laid to rest in what is known as the Wadsworth burial ground.

Mr. Parris removed to Newton, then to Concord; and in November, 1697, began to preach at Stow, on a salary of forty pounds, half in money and half in provisions, &c. A grant from the general court was relied upon from year to year to help to make up the twenty pounds to be paid in money. Afterwards he preached at Dunstable, partly supported by a grant from the general court, and finally in Sudbury, where he died, Feb. 27, 1720. His daughter Elizabeth, who belonged, it will be remembered, to the circle of "afflicted children" in 1692, then nine years of age, in 1710 married Benjamin Barnes of Concord. Two other daughters married in Sudbury. His son Noyes, who graduated at Harvard College in 1721, became deranged, and was supported by the town. His other son Samuel was long deacon of the church at Sudbury, and died Nov. 22, 1792, aged ninety-one years.

Mr. Parris moved to Newton, then to Concord; and in November 1697, he started preaching in Stow with a salary of forty pounds, half in cash and half in food, etc. He depended on a yearly grant from the general court to help cover the twenty pounds that needed to be paid in cash. Later, he preached in Dunstable, partly supported by a grant from the general court, and eventually in Sudbury, where he died on February 27, 1720. His daughter Elizabeth, who was part of the group of "afflicted children" in 1692 and was nine years old at the time, married Benjamin Barnes from Concord in 1710. Two other daughters got married in Sudbury. His son Noyes graduated from Harvard College in 1721 but became mentally ill and was supported by the town. His other son Samuel served as a deacon of the church in Sudbury for a long time and died on November 22, 1792, at the age of ninety-one.

In the "Boston News Letter," No. 1433, July 15, 1731, is a notice, as follows:—

In the "Boston News Letter," No. 1433, July 15, 1731, there’s a notice that states:—

"Any person or persons who knew Mr. Samuel Parris, formerly of Barbadoes, afterwards of Boston in New England, merchant, and after that minister of Salem Village, &c., deceased to be a son of Thomas Parris of the island aforesaid, Esq. who deceased 1673, or[ii.500] sole heir by will to all his estate in said island, are desired to give or send notice thereof to the printer of this paper; and it shall be for their advantage."

"Anyone who knew Mr. Samuel Parris, who was originally from Barbados, then lived in Boston, New England, as a merchant, and later became a minister in Salem Village, and who passed away, is requested to contact the printer of this paper if they are a son of Thomas Parris from the aforementioned island, Esq., who died in 1673, or the sole heir by will to all his estate on that island. This would be beneficial for them."

Whether the identity of Mr. Parris, of Salem Village, with the son of Thomas Parris, of Barbadoes, was established, we have no information. If it was, some relief may have come to his descendants. There is every reason to believe, that, after leaving the village, he and his family suffered from extremely limited means, if not from absolute poverty. The general ill-repute brought upon him by his conduct in the witchcraft prosecutions followed him to the last. He had forfeited the sympathy of his clerical brethren by his obstinate refusal to take their advice. They earnestly, over and over again, expostulated against his prolonging the controversy with the people of Salem Village, besought him to relinquish it, and promised him, if he would, to provide an eligible settlement elsewhere. They actually did provide one. But he rejected their counsels and persuasions, in expressions of ill-concealed bitterness. So that, when he was finally driven away, they felt under no obligations to befriend him; and with his eminent abilities he eked out a precarious and inadequate maintenance for himself and family, in feeble settlements in outskirt towns, during the rest of his days.

Whether the identity of Mr. Parris from Salem Village is connected to Thomas Parris from Barbadoes, we have no information. If it is true, some relief may have come to his descendants. It's likely that after leaving the village, he and his family struggled with very limited resources, if not outright poverty. The negative reputation he gained from his actions during the witchcraft trials followed him to the end. He lost the support of his fellow clergy due to his stubborn refusal to follow their advice. They persistently urged him to end the feud with the people of Salem Village, pleaded with him to let it go, and promised to help him find a good position elsewhere if he did. They even found him one, but he turned down their advice and pleas with barely concealed resentment. So, when he was eventually forced out, they felt no obligation to help him; and with his considerable talents, he barely managed to provide for himself and his family in struggling positions in remote towns for the rest of his life.

It is difficult to describe the character of this unfortunate man. Just as is the condemnation which facts compel history to pronounce, I have a feeling of relief in the thought, that, before the tribunal to which he so long ago passed, the mercy we all shall need, which comprehends all motives and allows for all infirmities, has been extended to him, in its infinite wisdom and benignity.

It’s hard to characterize this unfortunate man. Similar to the judgments that facts force history to make, I find some relief in believing that, before the judgment he faced long ago, the mercy we all need—which understands all motivations and accounts for all weaknesses—has been granted to him, in its infinite wisdom and kindness.

He was a man of uncommon abilities, of extraordinary vivacity and activity of intellect. He does not appear to have been wilfully malevolent; although somewhat reckless in a contest, he was not deliberately untruthful; on the contrary, there is in his statements a singular ingenuousness and fairness, seldom to be found in a partisan, much more seldom in a principal. Although we get almost all we know of the examinations of accused parties in the witchcraft proceedings, and of his long contentions with his parish, from him, there is hardly any ground to regret that the parties on the other side had no friends to tell their story. A transparency[ii.501] of character, a sort of instinctive incontinency of mind, which made him let out every thing, or a sort of blindness which prevented his seeing the bearings of what was said and done, make his reports the vehicles of the materials for the defence of the very persons he was prosecuting. I know of no instance like it. His style is lucid, graphic, lively, natural to the highest degree; and whatever he describes, we see the whole, and, as it were, from all points of view. Language flowed from his pen with a facility, simplicity, expressiveness, and accuracy, not surpassed or often equalled. He wrote as men talk, using colloquial expressions without reserve, but always to the point. When we read, we hear him; abbreviating names, and clipping words, as in the most familiar and unguarded conversation. He was not hampered by fear of offending the rules which some think necessary to dignify composition. In his off-hand, free and easy, gossiping entries in the church-book, or in his carefully prepared productions, like the "Meditations for Peace," read before his church and the dissatisfied brethren, we have specimens of plain good English, in its most translucent and effective forms. Considering that his academic education was early broken off, and many intermediate years were spent in commercial pursuits, his learning and attainments are quite remarkable. The various troubles and tragic mischiefs of his life, the terrible wrongs he inflicted on others, and the retributions he brought upon himself, are traceable to two or three peculiarities in his mental and moral organization.

He was a man with exceptional skills, full of energy and mental agility. He doesn’t seem to have been intentionally harmful; while he could be somewhat reckless in a debate, he wasn’t deliberately dishonest. In fact, his statements show a unique honesty and fairness, which is rarely seen in someone taking sides, and even less so in a leader. Although most of what we know about the questioning of accused individuals in the witchcraft trials, and his long arguments with his parish, comes from him, we hardly regret that there were no advocates for the other side to share their perspective. His character was transparent, showing an instinctive impulsiveness that led him to reveal everything, or perhaps a kind of blindness that kept him from seeing the implications of his words and actions, which made his reports the source of material for the defense of the very people he was trying to prosecute. I've never encountered anything like it. His writing is clear, vivid, lively, and extremely natural; whatever he describes, we can visualize everything from various perspectives. His language flowed from his pen with a combination of ease, simplicity, expressiveness, and precision that is unmatched or rarely matched. He wrote as people speak, using everyday phrases without hesitation, yet always getting straight to the point. When we read his work, we can hear him, shortening names and trimming words like in the most casual and unguarded conversation. He wasn’t constrained by the fear of violating the conventions some believe are essential for dignified writing. In his casual, easy-going entries in the church book, or in his carefully crafted works like the "Meditations for Peace," which he presented to his church and the unhappy members, we see examples of clear, effective English in its most transparent form. Considering that his formal education ended early and that he spent many years in business, his knowledge and accomplishments are quite remarkable. The various troubles and tragic consequences of his life, the serious wrongs he committed against others, and the consequences that fell upon him, can be traced back to two or three distinct characteristics in his mental and moral makeup.

He had a passion for a scene, a ceremony, an excitement. He delighted in the exercise of power, and rejoiced in conflicts or commotions, from the exhilaration they occasioned, and the opportunity they gave for the gratification of the activity of his nature. He pursued the object of getting possession of the ministry house and land with such desperate pertinacity, not, I think, from avaricious motives, but for the sake of the power it would give him as a considerable landholder. His love of form and public excitement led him to operate as he did with his church. He kept it in continual action during the few years of his ministry. He had at least seventy-five special meetings of that body, without counting those which probably occurred without number, but of which there is no record, during the six months of the witchcraft period. Twice, the brethren gave out, wholly exhausted; and the powers[ii.502] of the church were, by vote, transferred to a special committee, to act in its behalf, composed of persons who had time and strength to spare. But Mr. Parris, never weary of excitement, would have been delighted to preside over church-meetings, and to be a participator in vehement proceedings, every day of his life. The more noisy and heated the contention, the more he enjoyed it. During all the transactions connected with the witchcraft prosecutions, he was everywhere present, always wide awake, full of animation, if not cheerfulness, and ready to take any part to carry them on. These propensities and dispositions were fraught with danger, and prolific of evil in his case, in consequence of what looks very much like a total want in himself of many of the natural human sensibilities, and an inability to apprehend them in others. Through all the horrors of the witchcraft prosecutions, he never evinced the slightest sensibility, and never seemed to be aware that anybody else had any. It was not absolute cruelty, but the absence of what may be regarded as a natural sense. It was not a positive wickedness, but a negative defect. He seemed to be surprised that other people had sentiments, and could not understand why Tarbell and Nurse felt so badly about the execution of their mother. He told them to their faces, without dreaming of giving them offence, that, while they thought she was innocent, and he thought she was guilty and had been justly put to death, it was a mere difference of opinion, as about an indifferent matter. In his "Meditations for Peace," presented to these dissatisfied brethren, for the purpose and with an earnest desire of appeasing them, he tells them that the indulgence of such feelings at all is a yielding to "temptation," being under "the clouds of human weakness," and "a bewraying of remaining corruption." Indeed, the theology of that day, it must be allowed, bore very hard upon even the best and most sacred affections of our nature. The council, in their Result, allude to the feelings of those whose parents, and other most loved and honored relatives and connections, had been so cruelly torn from them and put to death, as "infirmities discovered by them in such an heart-breaking day," and bespeak for their grief and lamentations a charitable construction. They ask the church, whose hands were red with the blood of their innocent and dearest friends, not to pursue them with "more critical and vigorous proceedings" in consequence of their exhibiting these[ii.503] natural sensibilities on the occasion, but "to treat them with bowels of much compassion." These views had taken full effect upon Mr. Parris, and obliterated from his breast all such "infirmities." This is the only explanation or apology that can be made for him.

He had a passion for excitement, for ceremonies, for drama. He enjoyed exercising power and reveled in conflicts or upheavals, finding joy in the thrill they brought and the chance they offered to express his driven nature. He relentlessly pursued the goal of acquiring the ministry house and land, not purely from greedy motives, but for the authority it would provide him as a significant landowner. His love for structure and public stimulation influenced how he managed his church. He kept it constantly active throughout his brief ministry, holding at least seventy-five special meetings, not accounting for countless others that likely occurred without being recorded during the six months of the witch trials. Twice, the members were completely worn out, and the church's powers were transferred by vote to a special committee made up of individuals who had the energy and time to devote to it. However, Mr. Parris, never tired of excitement, would have happily presided over church meetings and participated in heated discussions every day. The louder and more intense the arguments, the more he thrived on them. Throughout the events related to the witch trials, he was always present, alert and full of energy, ready to engage in any action to advance them. These tendencies and attitudes posed significant dangers and led to harm in his case, as he seemed to lack many natural human feelings and failed to recognize them in others. Throughout the horrors of the witch trials, he showed no sign of sensitivity and seemed oblivious to the emotions of those around him. It wasn't sheer cruelty; rather, it was a lack of what could be seen as a natural sense. It wasn't outright wickedness, but rather a lack of understanding. He appeared surprised that others had feelings and couldn’t comprehend why Tarbell and Nurse were so distraught over their mother's execution. He bluntly told them that while they believed she was innocent and he thought she was guilty and justly executed, it was merely a difference of opinion on a trivial matter. In his "Meditations for Peace," aimed at these unhappy members with the sincere intention of soothing them, he told them that indulging in such feelings was yielding to "temptation," suffering from "the clouds of human weakness," and a "revelation of remaining corruption." Indeed, the theology of that time was harsh even on the best and most sacred feelings of our nature. The council, in their Resolution, referenced the emotions of those whose parents and beloved relatives had been brutally taken from them and executed, describing it as "infirmities revealed by them in such a heart-wrenching time," and urged the church, whose hands were stained with the blood of their innocent and cherished friends, not to persecute them with "more critical and forceful actions" because they displayed such natural feelings but instead "to treat them with deep compassion." These perspectives had a powerful impact on Mr. Parris, erasing from his heart all such "infirmities." This is the only justification or excuse that can be made for him.

Of the history of Cotton Mather, subsequently to the witchcraft prosecutions, and more or less in consequence of his agency in them, it may be said that the residue of his life was doomed to disappointment, and imbittered by reproach and defeat. The storm of fanatical delusion, which he doubted not would carry him to the heights of clerical and spiritual power, in America and everywhere, had left him a wreck. His political aspirations, always one of his strongest passions, were wholly blasted; and the great aim and crown of his ambition, the Presidency of Harvard College, once and again and for ever had eluded his grasp. I leave him to tell his story, and reveal the state of his mind and heart in his own most free and full expressions from his private diary for the year 1724.

After the witchcraft trials, Cotton Mather's life can be summed up as one of disappointment, filled with blame and failure, largely due to his involvement in those events. The wave of extreme delusion that he thought would elevate him to significant religious and spiritual authority in America and beyond ultimately left him shattered. His political ambitions, which were always one of his biggest dreams, were completely destroyed; and his ultimate goal, the Presidency of Harvard College, continually slipped through his fingers. I'll let him share his own story and express his thoughts and feelings from his private diary in the year 1724.

"1. What has a gracious Lord helped me to do for the seafaring tribe, in prayers for them, in sermons to them, in books bestowed upon them, and in various projections and endeavors to render the sailors a happy generation? And yet there is not a man in the world so reviled, so slandered, so cursed among sailors.

"1. What has a gracious Lord helped me to do for the seafaring tribe, in praying for them, in preaching to them, in books given to them, and in various projects and efforts to make the sailors a happy generation? And yet there isn't a person in the world who is so hated, so slandered, so cursed among sailors."

"2. What has a gracious Lord helped me to do for the instruction and salvation and comfort of the poor negroes? And yet some, on purpose to affront me, call their negroes by the name of COTTON MATHER, that so they may, with some shadow of truth, assert crimes as committed by one of that name, which the hearers take to be Me.

"2. What has a gracious Lord helped me to do for the instruction, salvation, and comfort of the poor black people? And yet some, just to insult me, refer to their black people by the name of COTTON MATHER, so they can, with some semblance of truth, claim that crimes were committed by someone with that name, which the listeners take to mean Me."

"3. What has a gracious Lord given me to do for the profit and honor of the female sex, especially in publishing the virtuous and laudable characters of holy women? And yet where is the man whom the female sex have spit more of their venom at? I have cause to question whether there are twice ten in the town but what have, at some time or other, spoken basely of me.

"3. What has a gracious Lord asked me to do for the benefit and respect of women, especially in sharing the virtuous and admirable qualities of holy women? And yet, where is the man whom women have directed more of their anger towards? I have reason to wonder if there are even twenty people in this town who haven't spoken negatively about me at some point."

"4. What has a gracious Lord given me to do, that I may be a blessing to my relatives? I keep a catalogue of them, and not a week passes me without some good devised for some or other of them, till I have taken all of them under my cognizance. And yet where is the man who has been so tormented with such monstrous relatives? Job said, 'I am a brother to dragons.'[ii.504]

"4. What has a gracious Lord asked me to do, so that I can be a blessing to my family? I keep a list of them, and not a week goes by without some good done for one or another of them, until I’ve thought about all of them. And yet where is the person who hasn’t been troubled by such monstrous relatives? Job said, 'I am a brother to dragons.'[ii.504]

"5. What has a gracious Lord given me to do for the vindication and reputation of the Scottish nation? And yet no Englishman has been so vilified by the tongues and pens of Scots as I have been.

"5. What has a gracious Lord assigned me to do to defend and elevate the reputation of the Scottish nation? Yet, no Englishman has been more slandered by the words and writings of Scots than I have."

"6. What has a gracious Lord given me to do for the good of the country, in applications without number for it in all its interests, besides publications of things useful to it and for it? And yet there is no man whom the country so loads with disrespect and calumnies and manifold expressions of aversion.

"6. What has a generous Lord assigned me to do for the benefit of the country, amidst countless requests for its interests, in addition to publishing useful information for it? And yet there is no one who faces as much disrespect, slander, and various expressions of dislike from the country."

"7. What has a gracious Lord given me to do for the upholding of the government, and the strengthening of it, and the bespeaking of regards unto it? And yet the discountenance I have almost perpetually received from the government! Yea, the indecencies and indignities which it has multiplied upon me are such as no other man has been treated with.

"7. What has a gracious Lord asked me to do for the support and strengthening of the government, and to advocate for it? And yet, I've almost constantly faced disapproval from the government! Indeed, the disrespect and indignities that it has heaped upon me are worse than what any other person has endured.

"8. What has a gracious Lord given me to do, that the College may be owned for the bringing forth such as are somewhat known in the world, and have read and wrote as much as many have done in other places? And yet the College for ever puts all possible marks of disesteem upon me. If I were the greatest blockhead that ever came from it, or the greatest blemish that ever came to it, they could not easily show me more contempt than they do.

"8. What has a gracious Lord tasked me with, so that the University may be recognized for producing individuals who are somewhat acknowledged in the world and have read and written as much as many others have elsewhere? And yet the College continually expresses complete disdain towards me. If I were the biggest fool to ever come from it, or the worst stain to ever touch it, they could hardly show me more contempt than they already do."

"9. What has a gracious Lord given me to do for the study of a profitable conversation? For nearly fifty years together, I have hardly ever gone into any company, or had any coming to me, without some explicit contrivance to speak something or other that they might be the wiser or the better for. And yet my company is as little sought for, and there is as little resort unto it, as any minister that I am acquainted with.

"9. What has a kind Lord given me to do for the study of a profitable conversation? For nearly fifty years, I have hardly ever been in any company or had anyone come to me without making a clear effort to say something that they might find enlightening or beneficial. And yet, my company is as little sought after, and there is as little interest in it, as anyone else I know in the ministry."

"10. What has a gracious Lord given me to do in good offices, wherever I could find opportunities for the doing of them? I for ever entertain them with alacrity. I have offered pecuniary recompenses to such as would advise me of them. And yet I see no man for whom all are so loth to do good offices. Indeed I find some cordial friends, but how few! Often have I said, What would I give if there were any one man in the world to do for me what I am willing to do for every man in the world!

"10. What has a kind Lord given me to do in good deeds, wherever I can find opportunities to act on them? I always embrace them with enthusiasm. I've offered financial rewards to anyone who would let me know about these opportunities. And yet, I notice that no one is eager to help me as much as I am ready to help everyone else. I do have some genuine friends, but how few! I've often thought, What would I give if there were just one person in the world willing to do for me what I'm ready to do for everyone else!"

"11. What has a gracious Lord given me to do in the writing of many books for the advancing of piety and the promoting of his kingdom? There are, I suppose, more than three hundred of them. And yet I have had more books written against me, more pamphlets to traduce and reproach me and belie me, than any man I know in the world.

"11. What has a gracious Lord assigned me to do in writing so many books to promote faith and advance his kingdom? I believe there are over three hundred of them. Yet, I've had more books written against me, more pamphlets to slander and insult me, and to misrepresent me, than anyone I know in the world."

"12. What has a gracious Lord given me to do in a variety of[ii.505] services? For many lustres of years, not a day has passed me, without some devices, even written devices, to be serviceable. And yet my sufferings! They seem to be (as in reason they should be) more than my services. Everybody points at me, and speaks of me as by far the most afflicted minister in all New England. And many look on me as the greatest sinner, because the greatest sufferer; and are pretty arbitrary in their conjectures upon my punished miscarriages."

"12. What has a kind Lord given me to do in a variety of[ii.505] services? For many decades, not a single day has gone by without some tasks, even written tasks, for me to fulfill. And yet my struggles! They seem to be (as they logically should be) greater than my contributions. Everyone points at me and talks about me as the most troubled minister in all of New England. Many view me as the biggest sinner because I am the biggest sufferer, and they make some pretty harsh judgments about my punished failings."

"Diary, May 7, 1724.—The sudden death of the unhappy man who sustained the place of President in our College will open a door for my doing singular services in the best of interests. I do not know that the care of the College will now be cast upon me, though I am told that it is what is most generally wished for. If it should be, I shall be in abundance of distress about it; but, if it should not, yet I may do many things for the good of the College more quietly and more hopefully than formerly.

Diary, May 7, 1724.—The sudden death of the unfortunate man who held the position of President in our College will create an opportunity for me to provide unique services in the best interests of all. I’m not sure if the responsibility of the College will now fall on me, although I've heard that’s what most people hope for. If it does, I will be quite anxious about it; however, if it doesn’t, I can still contribute a lot for the benefit of the College in a more calm and optimistic way than I did before.

"June 5.—The College is in great hazard of dissipation and grievous destruction and confusion. My advice to some that have some influence on the public may be seasonable.

"June 5.—The College is in serious danger of falling apart and facing significant destruction and chaos. I believe my advice to those who hold some influence over the public could be timely."

"July 1, 1724.—This day being our insipid, ill-contrived anniversary, which we call the Commencement, I chose to spend it at home in supplications, partly on the behalf of the College that it may not be foolishly thrown away, but that God may bestow such a President upon it as may prove a rich blessing unto it and unto all our churches."

"July 1, 1724.—Today is our boring, poorly planned anniversary, which we call the Commencement. I decided to spend it at home in prayers, partly for the College, hoping it won't be wasted, but that God will provide a President who will be a great blessing for it and for all our churches."

On the 18th of November, 1724, the corporation of Harvard College elected the Rev. Benjamin Colman, pastor of the Brattle-street Church in Boston, to the vacant presidential chair. He declined the appointment. The question hung in suspense another six months. In June, 1725, the Rev. Benjamin Wadsworth, pastor of the First Church in Boston, was elected, accepted the office, and held it to his death, on the 16th of March, 1737. It may easily be imagined how keenly these repeated slights were felt by Cotton Mather. He died on the 13th of February, 1728.

On November 18, 1724, the Harvard College corporation elected Rev. Benjamin Colman, pastor of the Brattle Street Church in Boston, to the open presidential position. He turned down the offer. The matter remained unresolved for another six months. In June 1725, Rev. Benjamin Wadsworth, pastor of the First Church in Boston, was elected, accepted the position, and held it until his death on March 16, 1737. It's easy to imagine how much these repeated rejections upset Cotton Mather. He passed away on February 13, 1728.

From the early part of the spring of 1695, when the abortive attempt to settle the difficulty between Mr. Parris and the people of the village, by the umpirage of Major Gedney, was made, it evidently became the settled purpose of the leading men, on both sides, to restore harmony to the place. On all committees, persons who had been prominent in opposition to each other were joined together, that, thus co-operating, they might become reconciled.[ii.506] This is strikingly illustrated in the "seating of the meeting-house," as it was called. In 1699, in a seat accommodating three persons, John Putnam the son of Nathaniel, and John Tarbell, were two of the three. Another seat for three was occupied by James and John Putnam, sons of John, and by Thomas Wilkins. Thomas Putnam and Samuel Nurse were placed in the same seat; and so were the wives of Thomas Putnam and Samuel Nurse, and the widow Sarah Houlton. The widow Preston, daughter of Rebecca Nurse, was seated with the widow Walcot, mother of Mary, one of the accusing girls.

From early spring in 1695, when the unsuccessful attempt to resolve the issues between Mr. Parris and the village residents was made through Major Gedney's mediation, it was clear that the main leaders on both sides were determined to restore peace in the community. In all committees, individuals who had strongly opposed each other were brought together so they could work together and find reconciliation.[ii.506] This is clearly shown in the "seating of the meeting-house," as it was called. In 1699, in a seat meant for three people, John Putnam, son of Nathaniel, and John Tarbell were two of the three. Another seat for three was taken by James and John Putnam, sons of John, and Thomas Wilkins. Thomas Putnam and Samuel Nurse were assigned to the same seat, as were the wives of Thomas Putnam and Samuel Nurse, along with the widow Sarah Houlton. The widow Preston, daughter of Rebecca Nurse, was seated with the widow Walcot, mother of Mary, one of the girls making accusations.

We see in this the effect of the wise and decisive course adopted by Mr. Parris's successor, the Rev. Joseph Green. Immediately upon his ordination, Nov. 10, 1698, he addressed himself in earnest to the work of reconciliation in that distracted parish. From the date of its existence, nearly thirty years before, it had been torn by constant strife. It had just passed through scenes which had brought all hearts into the most terrible alienation. A man of less faith would not have believed it possible, that the horrors and outrages of those scenes could ever be forgotten, forgiven, or atoned for, by those who had suffered or committed the wrongs. But he knew the infinite power of the divine love, which, as a minister of Christ, it was his office to inspire and diffuse. He knew that, with the blessing of God, that people, who had from the first been devouring each other, and upon whose garments the stain of the blood of brethren and sisters was fresh, might be made "kind one to another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven" them. In this heroic and Christ-like faith, he entered upon and steadfastly adhered to his divine work. He pursued it with patience, wisdom, and courageous energy. No ministry in the whole history of the New-England churches has had a more difficult task put upon it, and none has more perfectly succeeded in its labors. I shall describe the administration of this good man, as a minister of reconciliation, in his own words, transcribed from his church records:—

We see the impact of the wise and decisive approach taken by Mr. Parris's successor, Reverend Joseph Green. Right after his ordination on November 10, 1698, he passionately dedicated himself to reconciling that troubled parish. From its founding nearly thirty years earlier, the parish had been plagued by constant conflict. It had just gone through events that had caused deep divisions among its members. A person of less faith might have thought it impossible for the pain and suffering from those events to ever be forgotten, forgiven, or reconciled by those who had been hurt or had caused harm. But he understood the immense power of divine love, which it was his role as a minister of Christ to inspire and share. He believed that, with God's blessing, the people who had fought against each other and whose lives bore the marks of violence could become "kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, just as God for Christ's sake has forgiven" them. With this heroic and Christ-like faith, he began his divine mission and remained committed to it. He pursued it with patience, wisdom, and fearless energy. No ministry in the history of New England churches has faced a more challenging task, and none has succeeded more fully in its efforts. I will describe the work of this good man as a minister of reconciliation in his own words, taken from his church records:—

"Nov. 25, 1698, being spent in holy exercises (in order to our preparation for the sacrament of the Lord's Supper), at John Putnam, Jr.'s, after the exercise, I desired the church to manifest, by the usual sign, that they were so cordially satisfied with their brethren, Thomas Wilkins, John Tarbell, and Samuel Nurse, that they were heartily[ii.507] desirous that they would join with us in all ordinances, that so we might all live lovingly together. This they consented unto, and none made any objection, but voted it by lifting up their hands. And further, that whatever articles they had drawn up against these brethren formerly, they now looked upon them as nothing, but let them fall to the ground, being willing that they should be buried for ever.

"On November 25, 1698, while engaged in spiritual activities (to prepare for the sacrament of the Lord's Supper) at John Putnam, Jr.'s place, after the service, I asked the church to show their approval, by the usual sign, that they were genuinely happy with their fellow members, Thomas Wilkins, John Tarbell, and Samuel Nurse, and that they earnestly wanted them to join us in all rituals, so that we could all live together harmoniously. They agreed, and there were no objections, as they voted by raising their hands. Furthermore, they decided that any complaints they had made against these members in the past were now irrelevant and let them go, willing to ensure that these issues would be forgotten forever."

"Feb. 5, 1699.—This day, also our brother John Tarbell, and his wife, and Thomas Wilkins and his wife, and Samuel Nurse's wife, joined with us in the Lord's Supper; which is a matter of thankfulness, seeing they have for a long time been so offended as that they could not comfortably join with us.

"Feb. 5, 1699.—Today, our brother John Tarbell and his wife, Thomas Wilkins and his wife, and Samuel Nurse's wife joined us for the Lord's Supper; we are grateful for this, considering they have been so troubled for a long time that they couldn't comfortably be with us."

"1702.—In December, the pastor spake to the church, on the sabbath, as followeth: 'Brethren, I find in your church-book a record of Martha Corey's being excommunicated for witchcraft; and, the generality of the land being sensible of the errors that prevailed in that day, some of her friends have moved me several times to propose to the church whether it be not our duty to recall that sentence, that so it may not stand against her to all generations; and I myself being a stranger to her, and being ignorant of what was alleged against her, I shall now only leave it to your consideration, and shall determine the matter by a vote the next convenient opportunity.'

"1702.—In December, the pastor spoke to the church on the Sabbath, saying: 'Brothers and sisters, I see in your church records that Martha Corey was excommunicated for witchcraft. Given that many people nowadays recognize the mistakes that were made back then, some of her friends have urged me multiple times to ask the church if it is our duty to lift that sentence, so it doesn’t remain against her for generations to come. Since I don’t know her personally and am unaware of what was claimed against her, I’ll leave it for you to consider, and we’ll decide on the matter by a vote the next chance we get.'”

"Feb. 14, 1702/3.—The major part of the brethren consented to the following: 'Whereas this church passed a vote, Sept. 11, 1692, for the excommunication of Martha Corey, and that sentence was pronounced against her Sept. 14, by Mr. Samuel Parris, formerly the pastor of this church; she being, before her excommunication, condemned, and afterwards executed, for supposed witchcraft; and there being a record of this in our church-book, page 12, we being moved hereunto, do freely consent and heartily desire that the same sentence may be revoked, and that it may stand no longer against her; for we are, through God's mercy to us, convinced that we were at that dark day under the power of those errors which then prevailed in the land; and we are sensible that we had not sufficient grounds to think her guilty of that crime for which she was condemned and executed; and that her excommunication was not according to the mind of God, and therefore we desire that this may be entered in our church-book, to take off that odium that is cast on her name, and that so God may forgive our sin, and may be atoned for the land; and we humbly pray that God will not leave us any more to such errors and sins, but will teach and enable us always to do that which is right in his sight.'

"Feb. 14, 1702/3.—Most of the members agreed to the following: 'Since this church voted on September 11, 1692, to excommunicate Martha Corey, and the sentence was declared against her on September 14 by Mr. Samuel Parris, who was the pastor of this church; she was condemned before her excommunication and later executed for alleged witchcraft; and there is a record of this in our church book, page 12, we feel compelled to express that we sincerely agree and wish for the revocation of that sentence, and that it no longer stands against her; for we believe, through God's mercy, that we were misled by the errors that prevailed during that dark time; and we realize that we did not have enough evidence to consider her guilty of the crime for which she was condemned and executed; and that her excommunication was not in line with God's will. Therefore, we ask that this be recorded in our church book, to lift the stigma from her name, and that God may forgive our sin, and bring reconciliation to the land; and we humbly pray that God will not let us fall into such errors and sins again, but will guide and empower us to always do what is right in His eyes.'”

"There was a major part voted, and six or seven dissented.

"There was a significant vote, and six or seven people disagreed."

"J. Gr., Pr."

"J. Gr., Pr."

The First Church in Salem rescinded its votes of excommunication of Rebecca Nurse and Giles Corey, in March, 1712. The church at the village was nearly ten years before it, in this act of justice to itself and to the memory of the injured dead. Mr. Green did not wait until the public sentiment drove him to it. He regarded it as his duty to lead, and keep in front of that sentiment, in the right direction. He did not wait until everybody demanded it to be done, but instantly began to prepare his people for it. At the proper time, he gave notice that he was about to bring the question before them; and he accordingly did so. He had no idea of allowing a few narrow-minded, obstinate individuals to keep the blot any longer upon the records of his church. His conduct is honorable to his name, and to the name of the village. By wise, prudent, but persistent efforts, he gradually repaired every breach, brought his parish out from under reproach, and set them right with each other, with the obligations of justice, and with the spirit of Christianity. It is affecting to read his ejaculations of praise and gratitude to God for every symptom of the prevalence of harmony and love among the people of his charge.

The First Church in Salem canceled its excommunication votes against Rebecca Nurse and Giles Corey in March 1712. Nearly ten years earlier, the church had taken this step as a way of restoring justice for itself and honoring the memory of those wronged. Mr. Green didn’t wait until public opinion pushed him to act. He believed it was his responsibility to lead and guide that sentiment in the right direction. Instead of waiting for everyone to demand it, he immediately began preparing his congregation. At the appropriate time, he announced that he would bring the issue before them, and he followed through. He wasn't going to let a few narrow-minded, stubborn individuals keep that stain on his church's records any longer. His actions reflect well on him and the village. Through wise, careful, yet determined efforts, he gradually mended every rift, lifted his parish out of shame, and reconciled them with each other, with the principles of justice, and with the spirit of Christianity. It’s moving to read his expressions of praise and gratitude to God for every sign of harmony and love among the people in his care.

The man who extinguished the fires of passion in a community that had ever before been consumed by them deserves to be held in lasting honor. The history of the witchcraft delusion in Salem Village would, indeed, be imperfectly written, if it failed to present the character of him who healed its wounds, obliterated the traces of its malign influence on the hearts and lives of those who acted, and repaired the wrongs done to the memory of those who suffered, in it. Joseph Green had a manly and amiable nature. He was a studious scholar and an able preacher. He was devoted to his ministry and faithful to its obligations. He was a leader of his people, and shared in their occupations and experiences. He was active in the ordinary employments of life and daily concerns of society. Possessed of independent property, he was frugal and simple in his habits, and liberal in the use of his means. The parsonage, while he lived in it, was the abode of hospitality, and frequented by the best society in the neighborhood. By mingled firmness and kindliness, he met and removed difficulties. He had a cheerful temperament, was not irritated by the course of events, even when of an unpleasant character. While Mr. Noyes was disturbed, even to resentment, by encroachments upon his parish,[ii.509] in the formation of new societies in the middle precinct of Salem, now South Danvers, and in the second precinct of Beverly, now Upper Beverly, Mr. Green, although they drew away from him as many as from Mr. Noyes, went to participate in the raising of their meeting-houses. Of a genial disposition, he countenanced innocent amusements. He was fond of the sports of the field. The catamount was among the trophies of his sure aim, and he came home with his huntsman's bag filled with wild pigeons. He would take his little sons before and behind him on his horse, and spend a day with them fishing and fowling on Wilkins's Pond; and, when Indians threatened the settlements, he would shoulder his musket, join the brave young men of his parish, and be the first in the encounter, and the last to relinquish the pursuit of the savage foe.

The man who put out the fires of passion in a community that had always been consumed by them deserves lasting respect. The story of the witchcraft hysteria in Salem Village would be incomplete if it didn’t show the character of the one who healed its wounds, erased the marks of its harmful influence on the hearts and lives of those involved, and righted the wrongs done to the memory of those who suffered because of it. Joseph Green had a strong and kind nature. He was a dedicated scholar and a skilled preacher. He was committed to his ministry and faithful to its responsibilities. He was a leader for his community, engaging in their work and daily life. He was active in the regular tasks of life and the everyday concerns of society. With independent means, he lived simply and frugally, yet was generous with his resources. The parsonage, during his time there, was a welcoming home, frequented by the best people in the area. With a mix of firmness and kindness, he faced and resolved challenges. He had a cheerful attitude and didn't get upset by events, even when they were unpleasant. While Mr. Noyes felt disturbed, even resentful, about threats to his parish from new church formations in the middle precinct of Salem, now South Danvers, and the second precinct of Beverly, now Upper Beverly, Mr. Green, despite losing people to those new groups just like Mr. Noyes did, went to help in building their meeting-houses. With a friendly spirit, he supported harmless fun. He enjoyed outdoor sports. The catamount was one of the trophies of his skilled aim, and he returned home with his hunting bag full of wild pigeons. He would take his young sons with him on his horse, spending a day fishing and hunting at Wilkins’s Pond; and when Native Americans threatened the settlements, he would grab his musket, join the brave young men of his parish, and be the first to engage in battle and the last to retreat from the pursuit of their savage foes.

He was always, everywhere, a peacemaker; by his genial manner, and his genuine dignity and decision of character, he removed dissensions from his church and neighborhood, and secured the respect while he won the love of all. That such a person was raised up and placed where he was at that time, was truly a providence of God.

He was always a peacemaker, no matter where he was; with his friendly attitude and real sense of dignity and strong character, he settled disputes in his church and community, earning both respect and love from everyone. It was truly a blessing from God that someone like him was brought into such a role at that time.

The part performed in the witchcraft tragedy by the extraordinary child of twelve years of age, Ann Putnam, has been fully set forth. As has been stated, both her parents (and no one can measure their share of responsibility, nor that of others behind them, for her conduct) died within a fortnight of each other, in 1699. She was then nineteen years of age; a large family of children, all younger than herself, was left with her in the most melancholy orphanage. How many there were, we do not exactly know: eight survived her. Although their uncles, Edward and Joseph, were near, and kind, and able to care for them, the burden thrown upon her must have been great. With the terrible remembrance of the scenes of 1692, it was greater than she could bear. Her health began to decline, and she was long an invalid. Under the tender and faithful guidance of Mr. Green, she did all that she could to seek the forgiveness of God and man. After consultations with him, in visits to his study, a confession was drawn up, which she desired publicly to make. Upon conferring with Samuel Nurse, it was found to be satisfactory to him, as the representative of those who had suffered from her testimony. It was her desire to offer this[ii.510] confession and a profession of religion at the same time. The day was fixed, and made known to the public. On the 25th of August, 1706, a great concourse assembled in the meeting-house. Large numbers came from other places, particularly from the town of Salem. The following document, having been judged sufficient and suitable, was written out in the church-book the evening before, and signed by her. It was read by the pastor before the congregation, who were seated; she standing in her place while it was read, and owning it as hers by a declaration to that effect at its close, and also acknowledging the signature.

The role played by the remarkable twelve-year-old Ann Putnam in the witchcraft tragedy has been thoroughly documented. As mentioned, both of her parents died within two weeks of each other in 1699, leaving her to take care of a large family of younger siblings. At that time, she was just nineteen years old, and she was left with a sorrowful burden of orphanhood. We don't know the exact number of siblings, but eight survived her. Although her uncles, Edward and Joseph, lived nearby and were kind and able to help, the responsibility placed on her must have been immense. Coupled with the horrific memories of 1692, it became too much for her to handle. Her health began to suffer, and she was often unwell. Under the caring guidance of Mr. Green, she did everything she could to seek forgiveness from God and from people. After talking with him during visits to his study, a confession was drafted that she wished to make publicly. After consulting with Samuel Nurse, it was deemed satisfactory to him, representing those hurt by her testimony. She wanted to make this confession along with a profession of faith. A date was set and announced to the public. On August 25, 1706, a large crowd gathered at the meeting house, with many coming from other areas, especially from Salem. The day before, a suitable document was written in the church book and signed by her. The pastor read it aloud to the congregation while she stood in her place, acknowledging it as hers with a declaration at the end and also confirming her signature.

"The Confession of Anne Putnam, when she was received to Communion, 1706.

"The Confession of Anne Putnam, when she was accepted for Communion, 1706.

"I desire to be humbled before God for that sad and humbling providence that befell my father's family in the year about '92; that I, then being in my childhood, should, by such a providence of God, be made an instrument for the accusing of several persons of a grievous crime, whereby their lives were taken away from them, whom now I have just grounds and good reason to believe they were innocent persons; and that it was a great delusion of Satan that deceived me in that sad time, whereby I justly fear I have been instrumental, with others, though ignorantly and unwittingly, to bring upon myself and this land the guilt of innocent blood; though what was said or done by me against any person I can truly and uprightly say, before God and man, I did it not out of any anger, malice, or ill-will to any person, for I had no such thing against one of them; but what I did was ignorantly, being deluded by Satan. And particularly, as I was a chief instrument of accusing of Goodwife Nurse and her two sisters, I desire to lie in the dust, and to be humbled for it, in that I was a cause, with others, of so sad a calamity to them and their families; for which cause I desire to lie in the dust, and earnestly beg forgiveness of God, and from all those unto whom I have given just cause of sorrow and offence, whose relations were taken away or accused.

"I want to humble myself before God for the tragic and humbling events that affected my father's family around '92; that I, as a child at the time, became an instrument in accusing several individuals of a serious crime, leading to their executions, whom I now have good reason to believe were innocent. I feel it was a great deception from Satan that misled me during that troubling time, and I fear that I, along with others and unknowingly, contributed to the guilt of innocent blood falling on myself and this land. I can truly and honestly say, before God and man, that my actions toward anyone were not motivated by anger, malice, or ill-will towards them, as I held no such feelings against any of them. What I did was done in ignorance, deceived by Satan. Specifically, since I played a major role in accusing Goodwife Nurse and her two sisters, I want to lie in the dust and be humbled for being part of such a tragic calamity for them and their families. For this reason, I wish to lie in the dust and sincerely ask God for forgiveness, as well as from all those I have caused sorrow or offense to, whose loved ones were taken away or falsely accused."

[Signed] signature

"This confession was read before the congregation, together with her relation, Aug. 25, 1706; and she acknowledged it.

"This confession was read before the congregation, along with her account, on Aug. 25, 1706; and she admitted it."

"J. Green, Pastor.

J. Green, Pastor.

This paper shows the baleful influence of the doctrine of Satan[ii.511] then received. It afforded a refuge and escape from the compunctions of conscience. The load of sin was easily thrown upon the back of Satan. This young woman was undoubtedly sincere in her penitence, and was forgiven, we trust and believe; but she failed to see the depth of her iniquity, and of those who instigated and aided her, in her false accusations. The blame, and the deed, were wholly hers and theirs. Satan had no share in it. Human responsibility cannot thus be avoided.

This paper highlights the harmful impact of the doctrine of Satan[ii.511] that was then accepted. It provided a way out from feelings of guilt. The burden of sin was easily placed on Satan's shoulders. This young woman was certainly sincere in her remorse and was forgiven, we hope and believe; however, she couldn't grasp the extent of her wrongdoing and that of those who encouraged and assisted her in her false accusations. The fault and the act were entirely hers and theirs. Satan played no part in it. Human responsibility cannot be sidestepped like that.

While, in a certain sense, she imputes the blame to Satan, this declaration of Ann Putnam is conclusive evidence that she and her confederate accusers did not believe in any communications having been made to them by invisible spirits of any kind. Those persons, in our day, who imagine that they hold intercourse, by rapping or otherwise, with spiritual beings, have sometimes found arguments in favor of their belief in the phenomena of the witchcraft trials. But Ann Putnam's confession is decisive against this. If she had really received from invisible beings, subordinate spirits, or the spirits of deceased persons, the matters to which she testified, or ever believed that she had, she would have said so. On the contrary, she declares that she had no foundation whatever, from any source, for what she said, but was under the subtle and mysterious influence of the Devil himself.

While she somewhat blames Satan, Ann Putnam's statement clearly shows that she and her fellow accusers didn't believe they were receiving any messages from invisible spirits. Nowadays, some people who think they communicate with spiritual beings through rapping or other means often cite the witchcraft trials as evidence for their beliefs. However, Ann Putnam's confession proves otherwise. If she had actually received information from invisible beings, lesser spirits, or spirits of the dead, or even thought she had, she would have mentioned it. Instead, she claims that she had no basis for her statements from any source and was merely influenced by the Devil himself.

She died at about the age of thirty-six years. Her will is dated May 20, 1715, and was presented in probate June 29, 1716. Its preamble is as follows:—

She passed away at around the age of thirty-six. Her will is dated May 20, 1715, and was submitted for probate on June 29, 1716. Its preamble is as follows:—

"In the name of God, amen. I, Anne Putnam, of the town of Salem, single woman, being oftentimes sick and weak in body, but of a disposing mind and memory, blessed be God! and calling to mind the mortality of my body, and that it is appointed for all men once to die, do make this my last will and testament. First of all, I recommend my spirit into the hands of God, through Jesus Christ my Redeemer, with whom I hope to live for ever; and, as for my body, I commit it to the earth, to be buried in a Christian and decent manner, at the discretion of my executor, hereafter named, nothing doubting but, by the mighty power of God, to receive the same again at the resurrection."

"In the name of God, amen. I, Anne Putnam, of the town of Salem, a single woman, being frequently sick and weak in body but of a sound mind and memory, blessed be God! and remembering the mortality of my body and that it is appointed for all people to die once, do make this my last will and testament. First of all, I commend my spirit into the hands of God, through Jesus Christ my Redeemer, with whom I hope to live forever; and regarding my body, I commit it to the earth to be buried in a Christian and respectable manner, at the discretion of my executor, as named hereafter, with no doubt that, by the mighty power of God, I will receive it again at the resurrection."

She divided her land to her four brothers, and her personal estate to her four sisters.

She divided her land among her four brothers and gave her personal belongings to her four sisters.

It seems that she was frequently the subject of sickness, and[ii.512] her bodily powers much weakened. The probability is, that the long-continued strain kept upon her muscular and nervous organization, during the witchcraft scenes, had destroyed her constitution. Such uninterrupted and vehement exercise, to their utmost tension, of the imaginative, intellectual, and physical powers, in crowded and heated rooms, before the public gaze, and under the feverish and consuming influence of bewildering and all but delirious excitement, could hardly fail to sap the foundations of health in so young a child. The tradition is, that she had a slow and fluctuating decline. The language of her will intimates, that, at intervals, there were apparent checks to her disease, and rallies of strength,—"oftentimes sick and weak in body." She inherited from her mother a sensitive and fragile constitution; but her father, although brought to the grave, probably by the terrible responsibilities and trials in which he had been involved, at a comparatively early age, belonged to a long-lived race and neighborhood. The opposite elements of her composition struggled in a protracted contest,—on the one side, a nature morbidly subject to nervous excitability sinking under the exhaustion of an overworked, overburdened, and shattered system; on the other, tenacity of life. The conflict continued with alternating success for years; but the latter gave way at last. Her story, in all its aspects, is worthy of the study of the psychologist. Her confession, profession, and death point the moral.

It seems she often dealt with illness, and [ii.512] her physical strength was greatly diminished. It's likely that the prolonged stress on her muscles and nervous system during the witchcraft trials ruined her health. The constant and intense strain on her imaginative, intellectual, and physical abilities, in crowded and hot rooms, under the public spotlight and the overwhelming influence of confusing and near-delirious excitement, probably undermined her health as a young child. Tradition suggests that she experienced a slow and fluctuating decline. The language of her will suggests that there were times when her illness seemed to improve, with moments of regained strength—"often sick and weak in body." She inherited a delicate and sensitive constitution from her mother; however, her father, despite passing away relatively young due to the heavy burdens and challenges he faced, came from a long-lived family and community. The conflicting elements of her nature battled for an extended period—on one hand, a constitution overly susceptible to nervous strain, collapsing under the weight of an exhausted and broken system; on the other, a strong will to live. This struggle waged on for years with periodic victories for both sides, but ultimately, the will to live succumbed. Her story, in all its complexities, deserves the attention of psychologists. Her confession, her beliefs, and her death carry a deeper message.

The Rev. Joseph Green died Nov. 26, 1715. The following tribute to his memory is inscribed on the records of the church. It is in the handwriting, and style of thought and language, of Deacon Edward Putnam.

The Rev. Joseph Green passed away on November 26, 1715. The following tribute to his memory is written in the church records. It reflects the handwriting, thoughts, and style of Deacon Edward Putnam.

"Then was the choicest flower and greenest olive-tree in the garden of our God here cut down in its prime and flourishing estate at the age of forty years and two days, who had been a faithful ambassador from God to us eighteen years. Then did that bright star set, and never more to appear here among us; then did our sun go down; and now what darkness is come upon us! Put away and pardon our iniquities, O Lord! which have been the cause of thy sore displeasure, and return to us again in mercy, and provide yet again for this thy flock a pastor after thy own heart, as thou hath promised to thy people in thy word; on which promise we have hope, for we are called by thy name; and, oh, leave us not!"

"Then the finest flower and the greenest olive tree in the garden of our God was cut down in its prime and thriving at the age of forty years and two days, after being a faithful messenger from God to us for eighteen years. Then that bright star set, never to shine here among us again; then our sun went down; and now what darkness has come upon us! Forgive and overlook our wrongs, O Lord! which have brought you great displeasure, and return to us once more in mercy, and provide for this, your flock, a pastor after your own heart, as you have promised to your people in your word; on which promise we have hope, for we bear your name; and, oh, do not abandon us!"

The Rev. Peter Clark was ordained June 5, 1717. The termination of the connection between the Salem Village church and the witchcraft delusion, and all similar kinds of absurdity and wickedness, is marked by the following record, which fully and for ever redeems its character. If Samuel Parris had been as wise and brave as Peter Clark, he would, in the same decisive manner, have nipped the thing in the bud.

The Rev. Peter Clark was ordained on June 5, 1717. The end of the link between the Salem Village church and the witchcraft hysteria, along with all other similar nonsense and evil, is highlighted by the following record, which completely and permanently restores its reputation. If Samuel Parris had been as wise and brave as Peter Clark, he would have decisively put an end to it right from the start.

"Salem Village Church Records.

"Salem Village Church Records."

"Sept. 5, 1746.—At a church meeting appointed on the lecture, the day before, on the occasion of several persons in this parish being reported to have resorted to a woman of a very ill reputation, pretending to the art of divination and fortune-telling, &c., to make inquiry into that matter, and to take such resolutions as may be thought proper on the occasion, the brethren of the church then present came into the following votes; viz., That for Christians, especially church-members, to seek to and consult reputed witches or fortune-tellers, this church is clearly of opinion, and firmly believes on the testimony of the Word of God, is highly impious and scandalous, being a violation of the Christian covenant sealed in baptism, rendering the persons guilty of it subject to the just censure of the church.

"Sept. 5, 1746.—At a church meeting called the day before to address reports of several people in this parish visiting a woman of very bad reputation who claims to practice divination and fortune-telling, the church members present discussed the issue and made the following decisions: That for Christians, especially church members, to seek out and consult with those considered witches or fortune-tellers is, according to the church, clearly wrong and deeply scandalous. It violates the Christian covenant sealed in baptism, making those who participate in such actions subject to appropriate church discipline."

"No proof appearing against any of the members of this church (some of whom had been strongly suspected of this crime), so as to convict them of their being guilty, it was further voted, That the pastor, in the name of the church, should publicly testify their disapprobation and abhorrence of this infamous and ungodly practice of consulting witches or fortune-tellers, or any that are reputed such; exhorting all under their watch, who may have been guilty of it, to an hearty repentance and returning to God, earnestly seeking forgiveness in the blood of Christ, and warning all against the like practice for the time to come.

"No evidence was found against any of the members of this church (some of whom had been strongly suspected of this crime), so it was further decided that the pastor, on behalf of the church, should publicly express their disapproval and disgust for this shameful and sinful practice of consulting witches or fortune-tellers, or anyone believed to be one; urging all those under their care who may have participated in it to sincerely repent and return to God, earnestly seeking forgiveness through the blood of Christ, and cautioning everyone against doing the same in the future."

"Sept. 7.—This testimony, exhortation, and warning, voted by the church, was publicly given by the pastor, before the dismission of the congregation."

"Sept. 7.—This testimony, encouragement, and warning, approved by the church, was publicly shared by the pastor before the congregation was dismissed."

The Salem Village Parish, when its present pastor, the Rev. Charles B. Rice, was settled, Sept. 2, 1863, had been in existence a hundred and ninety-one years. During its first twenty-five years, it had four ministers, whose aggregate period of service was eighteen years. During the succeeding hundred and sixty-six years, it had four ministers, whose aggregate period of service[ii.514] was one hundred and fifty-eight years. They had all been well educated, several were men of uncommon endowments, and without exception they possessed qualities suitable for success and usefulness in their calling.

The Salem Village Parish, when its current pastor, Rev. Charles B. Rice, was appointed on September 2, 1863, had been around for 191 years. In its first 25 years, it had four ministers, who served a total of 18 years. Over the following 166 years, it had four ministers as well, with a total service time[ii.514] of 158 years. All of them were well-educated, several were exceptionally gifted, and they all had qualities that contributed to their success and usefulness in their roles.

The first period was filled with an uninterrupted series of troubles, quarrels, and animosities, culminating in the most terrific and horrible disaster that ever fell upon a people. The second period was an uninterrupted reign of peace, harmony, and unity; no religious society ever enjoying more comfort in its privileges, or exhibiting a better example of all that ought to characterize a Christian congregation.

The first period was packed with nonstop troubles, fights, and hostility, leading to the most terrible disaster that ever struck a people. The second period saw a continuous era of peace, harmony, and unity; no religious community ever experienced greater comfort in its rights or set a better example of everything a Christian congregation should represent.

The contrast between the lives of its ministers, in the two periods respectively, is as great as between their pastorates. The first four suffered from inadequate means of support, and, owing to the feuds in the congregation, rates not being collected, were hardly supplied with the necessaries of life. There is no symptom in the records of the second period of there having ever been any difficulty on this score. The prompt fulfilment of their contracts by the people, and the favor of Providence, placed the ministers above the reach or approach of inconvenience or annoyance from that quarter.

The difference between the lives of its ministers in the two periods is as significant as the differences in their leadership. The first four struggled with low financial support, and due to conflicts within the congregation and uncollected fees, they barely had the essentials for living. The records from the second period show no sign of any issues in this regard. The timely fulfillment of their contracts by the congregation, along with the blessings of Providence, ensured that the ministers were free from any financial hardship or hassle.

The history of the New-England churches presents no epoch more melancholy, distressful, and stormy than the first, and none more united, prosperous, or commendable than the second period in the annals of the Salem Village church.

The history of the New England churches has no time more sorrowful, troubling, and chaotic than the first, and none more united, successful, or admirable than the second period in the records of the Salem Village church.

The contrast between the fortunes and fates of the ministers of these two periods is worthy of being stated in detail.

The difference between the fortunes and fates of the ministers from these two periods is worth discussing in detail.

James Bayley began to preach at the Village at the formation of the society, when he was quite a young man, within three years from receiving his degree at Harvard College. After about seven years, during which he buried his wife and three children, and encountered a bitter and turbulent opposition,—so far as we can see, most causeless and unreasonable,—he relinquished the ministry altogether, and spent the residue of his life in another profession elsewhere.

James Bayley started preaching at the Village when the society was formed, shortly after he graduated from Harvard College as a young man. After about seven years, during which he lost his wife and three children and faced harsh and intense opposition—seemingly without cause or reason—he gave up the ministry entirely and spent the rest of his life in a different profession.

The ministry of George Burroughs, at the Village, lasted about two years. The violence of both parties to the controversy by which the parish had been rent was concentrated upon his innocent and unsheltered head. He was, at a public assembly of his[ii.515] people, in his own meeting-house, arrested, and taken out in the custody of the marshal of the county, a prisoner for a debt incurred to meet the expenses of his wife's recent funeral, of an amount less than the salary then due him, and which, in point of fact, he had paid at the time by an order upon the parish treasurer. From such outrageous ill-treatment, he escaped by resigning his ministry. He was followed to his retreat in a remote settlement, and while engaged there, a laborious, self-sacrificing, and devoted minister, was, by the malignity of his enemies at the Village, suddenly seized, all unconscious of having wronged a human creature, snatched from the table where he was taking his frugal meal in his humble home, torn from his helpless family, hurried up to the Village; overwhelmed in a storm of falsehood, rage, and folly; loaded with irons, immured in a dungeon, carried to the place of execution, consigned to the death of a felon; and his uncoffined remains thrown among the clefts of the rocks of Witch Hill, and left but half buried,—for a crime of which he was as innocent as the unborn child.

The time George Burroughs spent as a minister in the Village lasted about two years. The anger from both sides of the conflict that had divided the parish was directed at him, an innocent and vulnerable man. During a public gathering of his[ii.515] congregation, in his own meeting house, he was arrested and taken away by the county marshal, a prisoner for a debt he incurred to cover his wife’s recent funeral expenses, which was less than the salary he was owed at that time. In fact, he had already paid this amount through an order to the parish treasurer. To escape such terrible treatment, he resigned from his ministry. He sought refuge in a remote area, and while there, he worked hard as a selfless and devoted minister. However, the malice of his enemies from the Village caught up with him unexpectedly. Unaware that he had wronged anyone, he was abruptly taken from the table where he was having a simple meal at home, torn from his helpless family, and rushed back to the Village; he was overwhelmed by a torrent of lies, anger, and madness; shackled, imprisoned in a dungeon, taken to the execution site, and condemned to die like a criminal. His unburied body was left among the rocks of Witch Hill, only partially buried—for a crime he was as innocent of as an unborn child.

Deodat Lawson, a great scholar and great preacher, after a two years' trial, and having buried his wife and daughter at the Village, abandoned the attempt to quell the storm of passion there. He found another settlement on the other side of Massachusetts Bay, which he left without taking leave, and was never heard of more by his people. Eight years afterwards, he re-appeared in the reprint, at London, of his famous Salem Village sermon, and then vanished for ever from sight. A cloud of impenetrable darkness envelopes his name at that point. Of his fate nothing is known, except that it was an "unhappy" one.

Deodat Lawson, a respected scholar and preacher, after two years of trying and having buried his wife and daughter in the Village, gave up on calming the chaos there. He found another settlement across Massachusetts Bay, which he left without saying goodbye, and was never heard from again by his community. Eight years later, he resurfaced in the London reprint of his famous Salem Village sermon, and then disappeared for good. A thick cloud of mystery surrounds his name at that moment. Nothing is known about his fate, except that it was an "unhappy" one.

Samuel Parris, after a ministry of seven years, crowded from the very beginning with contention and animosity, and closed in desolation, ruin, and woes unutterable, havoc scattered among his people and the whole country round, was driven from the parish, the blood of the innocent charged upon his head, and, for the rest of his days, consigned to obscurity and penury. The place of his abode has upon it no habitation or structure of man; and the only vestiges left of him are his records of the long quarrel with his congregation, and his inscription on the headstone, erected by him, as he left the Village for ever, over the fresh grave of his wife.[ii.516]

Samuel Parris, after a seven-year ministry filled with conflict and hostility, ended in despair, destruction, and unspeakable grief, leaving his community and surrounding areas in turmoil. He was forced out of the parish, bearing the blame for the innocent, and spent the rest of his life in obscurity and poverty. His former home is now just empty land, and the only reminders of him are his records of the long dispute with his congregation and the inscription on the headstone he placed over his wife’s fresh grave as he left the Village for good.[ii.516]

Surely, the annals of no church present a more dismal, shocking, or shameful history than this.

Surely, no church's history is more dismal, shocking, or shameful than this.

Joseph Green, on the 26th of November, 1715, terminated with his life a ministry of eighteen years, as useful, beneficent, and honorable as it had been throughout harmonious and happy. Peter Clark died in office, June 10, 1768, after a service of fifty-one years. He was recognized throughout the country as an able minister and a learned divine. Peace and prosperity reigned, without a moment's intermission, among the people of his charge. Benjamin Wadsworth, D.D., also died in office, Jan. 18, 1826, after a service of fifty-four years. Through life he was universally esteemed and loved in all the churches. Milton P. Braman, D.D., on the 1st of April, 1861, terminated by resignation a ministry of thirty-five years. He always enjoyed universal respect and affection, and the parish under his care, uninterrupted union and prosperity. He did not leave his people, but remains among them, participating in the enjoyment of their privileges, and upholding the hands of his successor. His eminent talents are occasionally exercised in neighboring pulpits, and in other services of public usefulness. He lives in honored retirement on land originally belonging to Nathaniel Putnam, distant only a few rods, a little to the north of east, from the spot owned and occupied by his first predecessor, James Bayley.

Joseph Green ended his life on November 26, 1715, after an eighteen-year ministry that was as useful, beneficial, and honorable as it was harmonious and happy. Peter Clark passed away while still in office on June 10, 1768, after serving for fifty-one years. He was widely recognized across the country as a skilled minister and a knowledgeable theologian. Peace and prosperity consistently thrived among his congregation. Benjamin Wadsworth, D.D., also died in office on January 18, 1826, after fifty-four years of service. Throughout his life, he was deeply respected and loved by all the churches. Milton P. Braman, D.D., resigned on April 1, 1861, after a thirty-five-year ministry. He was always held in universal esteem and affection, and the parish under his leadership enjoyed uninterrupted unity and prosperity. He did not leave his congregation but remains with them, sharing in their privileges and supporting his successor. His exceptional talents are occasionally showcased in nearby pulpits and other public service roles. He lives in respected retirement on land that originally belonged to Nathaniel Putnam, just a short distance to the northeast of the site originally owned and occupied by his first predecessor, James Bayley.

It can be said with assurance, of this epoch in the history of the Salem Village church and society, that it can hardly be paralleled in all that indicates the well-being of man or the blessings of Heaven. No such contrast, as these two periods in the annals of this parish present, can elsewhere be found.

It can be confidently stated that this time in the history of the Salem Village church and community is unique when it comes to the well-being of humanity and the blessings from above. There’s no other comparison to be found like the one between these two periods in the records of this parish.

Prosecutions for witchcraft continued in the older countries after they had been abandoned here; although it soon began to be difficult, everywhere, to procure the conviction of a person accused of witchcraft. In 1716, a Mrs. Hicks and her daughter, the latter aged nine years, were hanged in Huntingdon, in England, for witchcraft. In the year 1720, an attempt, already alluded to, was made to renew the Salem excitement in Littleton, Mass., but it failed: the people had learned wisdom at a price too dear to allow them so soon to forget it. In a letter to Cotton Mather, written Feb. 19, 1720, the excellent Dr. Watts, after having expressed his doubts respecting the sufficiency of the spec[ii.517]tral evidence for condemnation, says, in reference to the Salem witchcraft, "I am much persuaded that there was much immediate agency of the Devil in these affairs, and perhaps there were some real witches too." Not far from this time, we find what was probably the opinion of the most liberal-minded and cultivated people in England expressed in the following language of Addison: "To speak my thoughts freely, I believe, in general, that there is and has been such a thing as witchcraft, but, at the same time, can give no credit to any particular instance of it."

Prosecutions for witchcraft continued in older countries even after they had stopped here; however, it soon became difficult everywhere to secure a conviction of someone accused of witchcraft. In 1716, a Mrs. Hicks and her nine-year-old daughter were hanged in Huntingdon, England, for witchcraft. In 1720, an attempt was made, as mentioned earlier, to rekindle the Salem excitement in Littleton, Massachusetts, but it failed: the people had learned a painful lesson that they were not quick to forget. In a letter to Cotton Mather, dated February 19, 1720, the esteemed Dr. Watts, after expressing his doubts about the adequacy of spectral evidence for condemnation, commented on the Salem witch trials, "I am much persuaded that there was much immediate agency of the Devil in these affairs, and perhaps there were some real witches too." Around this time, we see the views of the more open-minded and educated individuals in England expressed in the words of Addison: "To speak my thoughts freely, I believe, in general, that there is and has been such a thing as witchcraft, but at the same time, I can give no credit to any particular instance of it."

There was an execution for witchcraft in Scotland in 1722. As late as the middle of the last century, an annual discourse, commemorative of executions that took place in Huntingdon during the reign of Queen Elizabeth, continued to be delivered in that place. An act of a Presbyterian synod in Scotland, published in 1743, and reprinted at Glasgow in 1766, denounced as a national sin the repeal of the penal laws against witchcraft.

There was a witchcraft execution in Scotland in 1722. Even as late as the middle of the last century, an annual speech commemorating the executions that happened in Huntingdon during Queen Elizabeth’s reign was still given there. A resolution from a Presbyterian synod in Scotland, published in 1743 and reprinted in Glasgow in 1766, condemned the repeal of the laws against witchcraft as a national sin.

Blackstone, the great oracle of British law, and who flourished in the latter half of the last century, declared his belief in witchcraft in the following strong terms: "To deny the possibility, nay, the actual existence, of witchcraft and sorcery, is at once flatly to contradict the revealed Word of God, in various passages both of the Old and New Testament; and the thing itself is a truth to which every nation in the world hath in its turn borne testimony, either by examples seemingly well attested, or by prohibitory laws, which at least suppose the possibility of commerce with evil spirits."

Blackstone, the renowned authority on British law who was prominent in the latter half of the last century, expressed his strong belief in witchcraft in the following words: "To deny the possibility, or even the actual existence, of witchcraft and sorcery is to directly contradict the revealed Word of God, found in various passages of both the Old and New Testament; and this matter is a truth that every nation in the world has acknowledged, either through seemingly well-supported examples or through prohibitory laws that at least imply the possibility of interaction with evil spirits."

It is related, in White's "Natural History of Selborne," that, in the year 1751, the people of Tring, a market town of Hertfordshire, and scarcely more than thirty miles from London, "seized on two superannuated wretches, crazed with age and overwhelmed with infirmities, on a suspicion of witchcraft." They were carried to the edge of a horse-pond, and there subjected to the water ordeal. The trial resulted in the acquittal of the prisoners; but they were both drowned in the process.

It is mentioned in White's "Natural History of Selborne" that, in 1751, the people of Tring, a market town in Hertfordshire, just over thirty miles from London, "captured two old men, frail with age and burdened by illnesses, on suspicion of witchcraft." They were taken to the edge of a horse-pond and subjected to the water test. The trial cleared the prisoners of wrongdoing, but they both drowned in the process.

A systematic effort seems to have been made during the eighteenth century to strengthen and renew the power of superstition. Alarmed by the progress of infidelity, many eminent and excellent men availed themselves of the facilities which their position at the head of the prevailing literature afforded them, to push the[ii.518] faith of the people as far as possible towards the opposite extreme of credulity. It was a most unwise, and, in its effects, deplorable policy. It was a betrayal of the cause of true religion. It was an acknowledgment that it could not be vindicated before the tribunal of severe reason. Besides all the misery produced by filling the imagination with unreal objects of terror, the restoration to influence, during the last century, of the fables and delusions of an ignorant age, has done incalculable injury, by preventing the progress of Christian truth and sound philosophy; thus promoting the cause of the very infidelity it was intended to check. The idea of putting down one error by setting up another cannot have suggested itself to any mind that had ever been led to appreciate the value or the force of truth. But this was the policy of Christian writers from the time of Addison to that of Johnson. The latter expressly confesses, that it was necessary to maintain the credit of the belief of the existence and agency of ghosts, and other supernatural beings, in order to help on the argument for a future state as founded upon the Bible.

In the eighteenth century, there appears to have been a concerted effort to bolster and revive superstition. Concerned about the spread of disbelief, many influential and respected individuals took advantage of their positions at the forefront of popular literature to push the[ii.518] beliefs of the public as far as possible towards excessive gullibility. This approach was unwise and ultimately harmful. It betrayed the true cause of religion. It indicated that it could not be defended in the face of rigorous reasoning. Along with the suffering caused by filling people’s minds with imaginary threats, the re-emergence of the myths and misconceptions from an ignorant era in the last century has caused immense damage by hindering the advancement of Christian truth and sound philosophy; ironically, it supported the very disbelief it aimed to combat. The notion of countering one mistake by introducing another likely never occurred to anyone who truly understood the significance and power of truth. However, this was the approach taken by Christian writers from the time of Addison to Johnson. The latter openly admits that it was necessary to uphold the belief in the existence and influence of ghosts and other supernatural beings to support arguments for an afterlife based on the Bible.

Dr. Hibbert, in his excellent book on the "Philosophy of Apparitions," illustrates some remarks similar to those just made, by the following quotation from Mr. Wesley:—

Dr. Hibbert, in his excellent book on the "Philosophy of Apparitions," illustrates some comments similar to those just made by quoting Mr. Wesley:—

"It is true, that the English in general, and indeed most of the men in Europe, have given up all accounts of witches and apparitions as mere old wives' fables. I am sorry for it; and I willingly take this opportunity of entering my solemn protest against this violent compliment, which so many that believe the Bible pay to those who do not believe it. I owe them no such service. I take knowledge, these are at the bottom of the outcry which has been raised, and with such insolence spread throughout the nation, in direct opposition, not only to the Bible, but to the suffrage of the wisest and best men in all ages and nations. They well know (whether Christians know it or not), that the giving up witchcraft is, in effect, giving up the Bible. And they know, on the other hand, that, if but one account of the intercourse of men with separate spirits be admitted, their whole castle in the air (Deism, Atheism, Materialism) falls to the ground. I know no reason, therefore, why we should suffer even this weapon to be wrested out of our hands. Indeed, there are numerous arguments besides, which abundantly confute their vain imaginations. But we need not be hooted out of one: neither reason nor religion requires this."

"It’s true that generally, the English, and indeed most men in Europe, have dismissed all stories of witches and apparitions as just old wives' tales. I regret this; and I gladly take this chance to make my strong protest against this harsh assumption that so many who believe in the Bible direct at those who don’t. I owe them no such favor. I acknowledge that these beliefs are at the heart of the uproar that has been stirred up and, with such arrogance, spread throughout the nation, directly challenging not only the Bible but also the opinions of the wisest and best people across all ages and places. They know (whether Christians do or not) that abandoning witchcraft is essentially abandoning the Bible. And they realize, on the flip side, that if even one account of human interaction with separate spirits is accepted, their entire fantasy world (Deism, Atheism, Materialism) crumbles. So, I see no reason why we should allow even this weapon to be taken from us. In fact, there are many more arguments that thoroughly debunk their empty ideas. But we should not be driven out of this: neither reason nor religion demands it."

The belief in witchcraft continued to hold a conspicuous place among popular superstitions during the whole of the last century. Many now living can remember the time when it prevailed very generally. Each town or village had its peculiar traditionary tales, which were gravely related by the old, and deeply impressed upon the young.

The belief in witchcraft remained a prominent aspect of popular superstitions throughout the entire last century. Many people today can recall a time when it was widely accepted. Every town or village had its own unique traditional stories, which were seriously shared by the elderly and left a lasting impression on the young.

The legend of the "Screeching Woman" of Marblehead is worthy of being generally known. The story runs thus: A piratical cruiser, having captured a Spanish vessel during the seventeenth century, brought her into Marblehead harbor, which was then the site of a few humble dwellings. The male inhabitants were all absent on their fishing voyages. The pirates brought their prisoners ashore, carried them at the dead of the night into a retired glen, and there murdered them. Among the captives was an English female passenger. The women who belonged to the place heard her dying outcries, as they rose through the midnight air, and reverberated far and wide along the silent shores. She was heard to exclaim, "O mercy, mercy! Lord Jesus Christ, save me! Lord Jesus Christ, save me!" Her body was buried by the pirates on the spot. The same piercing voice is believed to be heard at intervals, more or less often, almost every year, in the stillness of a calm starlight or clear moonlight night. There is something, it is said, so wild, mysterious, and evidently superhuman in the sound, as to strike a chill of dread into the hearts of all who listen to it. The writer of an article on this subject, in the "Marblehead Register" of April 3, 1830, declares, that "there are not wanting, at the present day, persons of unimpeachable veracity and known respectability, who still continue firmly to believe the tradition, and to assert that they themselves have been auditors of the sounds described, which they declare were of such an unearthly nature as to preclude the idea of imposition or deception."

The story of the "Screeching Woman" of Marblehead deserves to be widely known. Here’s how it goes: In the seventeenth century, a pirate ship captured a Spanish vessel and brought it into Marblehead Harbor, which at the time only had a few modest homes. All the local men were away on fishing trips. The pirates took their prisoners ashore, carried them deep into a secluded area at night, and killed them there. Among the captives was an English woman. The local women heard her desperate cries piercing the night air, echoing along the quiet shores. She was heard pleading, "O mercy, mercy! Lord Jesus Christ, save me! Lord Jesus Christ, save me!" The pirates buried her body right there. It’s said that her haunting voice can still be heard at times, almost every year, during peaceful starlit or clear moonlit nights. People claim that there’s something wild, mysterious, and definitely otherworldly about the sound, sending chills of fear into the hearts of all who hear it. An article on this topic in the “Marblehead Register” from April 3, 1830, states that "even today, there are individuals of unquestionable honesty and known respectability who firmly believe in the legend and assert that they have personally heard the described sounds, which they say are so strange that they rule out any idea of trickery or deceit."

When "the silver moon unclouded holds her way," or when the stars are glistening in the clear, cold sky, and the dark forms of the moored vessels are at rest upon the sleeping bosom of the harbor; when no natural sound comes forth from the animate or inanimate creation but the dull and melancholy rote of the sea along the rocky and winding coast,—how often is the watcher startled from the reveries of an excited imagination by the pite[ii.520]ous, dismal, and terrific screams of the unlaid ghost of the murdered lady!

When "the silver moon shines brightly," or when the stars are sparkling in the clear, cold sky, and the dark shapes of the anchored boats are still on the calm surface of the harbor; when there are no natural sounds coming from the living or non-living world except for the dull and mournful rhythm of the sea against the rocky, winding coastline,—how often is the observer jolted from their daydreams by the pitiful, haunting, and terrifying screams of the restless ghost of the murdered lady!

A negro died, fifty years ago, in that part of Danvers called originally Salem Village, at a very advanced age. He was supposed to have reached his hundredth year. He never could be prevailed upon to admit that there was any delusion or mistake in the proceedings of 1692. To him, the whole affair was easy of explanation. He believed that the witchcraft was occasioned by the circumstance of the Devil's having purloined the church-book, and that it subsided so soon as the book was recovered from his grasp. Perhaps the particular hypothesis of the venerable African was peculiar to himself; but those persons must have a slight acquaintance with the history of opinions in this and every other country, who are not aware that the superstition on which it was founded has been extensively entertained by men of every color, almost, if not quite, up to the present day. If the doctrines of demonology have been completely overthrown and exterminated in our villages and cities, it is a very recent achievement; nay, I fear that in many places the auspicious event remains to take place.

A Black man died fifty years ago in a part of Danvers originally called Salem Village, at a very old age. He was thought to have lived to be a hundred. He never accepted that there was any illusion or error in the events of 1692. To him, everything about the incident made sense. He believed that the witchcraft was triggered by the Devil stealing the church book, and it ended as soon as the book was retrieved from him. Maybe the old man's theory was unique to him, but anyone who isn't aware that similar superstitions have been widely held by people of all races, almost up to today, has a limited understanding of the history of beliefs in this country and elsewhere. If the ideas of demonology have been completely rejected and eradicated in our towns and cities, that's a very recent success; in fact, I worry that in many places, this fortunate event has yet to happen.

In the year 1808, the inhabitants of Great Paxton, a village of Huntingdonshire, in England, within sixty miles of London, rose in a body, attacked the house of an humble, and, so far as appears, inoffensive and estimable woman, named Ann Izard, suspected of bewitching three young females,—Alice Brown, Fanny Amey, and Mary Fox,—dragged her out of her bed into the fields, pierced her arms and body with pins, and tore her flesh with their nails, until she was covered with blood. They committed the same barbarous outrage upon her again, a short time afterwards; and would have subjected her to the water ordeal, had she not found means to fly from that part of the country.

In 1808, the people of Great Paxton, a village in Huntingdonshire, England, about sixty miles from London, banded together and attacked the home of a humble, seemingly harmless and respected woman named Ann Izard. She was suspected of witchcraft for allegedly bewitching three young girls—Alice Brown, Fanny Amey, and Mary Fox. They dragged her from her bed into the fields, stabbed her arms and body with pins, and clawed at her flesh until she was covered in blood. They committed the same brutal act against her again shortly after, and would have subjected her to a water test if she hadn't managed to escape from the area.

The writer of the article "Witchcraft," in Rees's "Cyclopædia," gravely maintains the doctrine of "ocular fascination."

The author of the article "Witchcraft" in Rees's "Cyclopædia" seriously argues for the idea of "ocular fascination."

Prosecutions for witchcraft are stated to have occurred, in the first half of the present century, in some of the interior districts of our Southern States. The civilized world is even yet full of necromancers and thaumaturgists of every kind. The science of "palmistry" is still practised by many a muttering vagrant; and perhaps some in this neighborhood remember when, in the days[ii.521] of their youthful fancy, they held out their hands, that their future fortunes might be read in the lines of their palms, and their wild and giddy curiosity and anxious affections be gratified by information respecting wedding-day or absent lover.

Prosecutions for witchcraft reportedly took place in the first half of this century in some rural areas of our Southern States. The modern world still has plenty of fortune tellers and miracle workers of all sorts. The art of "palm reading" is still practiced by many wandering individuals; and perhaps some people in this neighborhood remember when, in the days[ii.521] of their youthful dreams, they held out their hands to have their futures read in the lines of their palms, eager for information about their wedding day or a distant lover.

The most celebrated fortune-teller, perhaps, that ever lived, resided in an adjoining town. The character of "Moll Pitcher" is familiarly known in all parts of the commercial world. She died in 1813. Her place of abode was beneath the projecting and elevated summit of High Rock, in Lynn, and commanded a view of the wild and indented coast of Marblehead, of the extended and resounding beaches of Lynn and Chelsea, of Nahant Rocks, of the vessels and islands of Boston's beautiful bay, and of its remote southern shore. She derived her mysterious gifts by inheritance, her grandfather having practised them before in Marblehead. Sailors, merchants, and adventurers of every kind, visited her residence, and placed confidence in her predictions. People came from great distances to learn the fate of missing friends, or recover the possession of lost goods; while the young of both sexes, impatient of the tardy pace of time, and burning with curiosity to discern the secrets of futurity, availed themselves of every opportunity to visit her lowly dwelling, and hear from her prophetic lips the revelation of the most tender incidents and important events of their coming lives. She read the future, and traced what to mere mortal eyes were the mysteries of the present or the past, in the arrangement and aspect of the grounds or settlings of a cup of tea or coffee. Her name has everywhere become the generic title of fortune-tellers, and occupies a conspicuous place in the legends and ballads of popular superstition. Her renown has gone abroad to the farthest regions, and her memory will be perpetuated in the annals of credulity and imposture. An air of romance is breathed around the scenes where she practised her mystic art, the interest and charm of which will increase as the lapse of time removes her history back towards the dimness of the distant past.

The most famous fortune-teller, perhaps, who ever lived, was from a nearby town. The character of "Moll Pitcher" is well-known everywhere in the business world. She died in 1813. Her home was under the rising and high summit of High Rock in Lynn, and had a view of the wild and rugged coast of Marblehead, the long and echoing beaches of Lynn and Chelsea, Nahant Rocks, the ships and islands of Boston's beautiful bay, and its far southern shore. She inherited her mysterious gifts, as her grandfather had practiced them in Marblehead before her. Sailors, merchants, and adventurers of all kinds visited her home, trusting her predictions. People traveled from far away to learn the fate of missing friends or to recover lost belongings; while young people, tired of waiting for time to pass and eager to uncover the secrets of the future, seized every chance to visit her humble abode and hear from her prophetic lips the revelations of the most intimate moments and significant events of their future lives. She read the future and understood what were the mysteries of the present or the past to ordinary eyes, interpreting the arrangement and appearance of the grounds or the settling of a cup of tea or coffee. Her name has become a universal term for fortune-tellers and holds a notable place in the stories and songs of popular superstition. Her fame has spread to the farthest regions, and her memory will live on in the records of gullibility and deception. A sense of romance surrounds the places where she practiced her mystical art, and the intrigue and allure of her story will grow as time pushes her history further into the shadows of the past.

The elements of the witchcraft delusion of 1692 are slumbering still in the bosom of society. We hear occasionally of haunted houses, cases of second-sight, and communications from the spiritual world. It always will be so. The human mind feels instinctively its connection with a higher sphere. Some will ever be[ii.522] impatient of the restraints of our present mode of being, and prone to break away from them; eager to pry into the secrets of the invisible world, willing to venture beyond the bounds of ascertainable knowledge, and, in the pursuit of truth, to aspire where the laws of evidence cannot follow them. A love of the marvellous is inherent to the sense of limitation while in these terrestrial bodies; and many will always be found not content to wait until this tabernacle is dissolved and we shall be clothed upon with a body which is from Heaven.

The elements of the witchcraft delusion of 1692 are still lurking within society. We occasionally hear about haunted houses, cases of second sight, and messages from the spiritual realm. It will always be this way. The human mind instinctively senses its connection to a higher realm. Some will always be[ii.522] restless with the limitations of our current existence and eager to break free from them; curious to uncover the mysteries of the unseen world, willing to step beyond the boundaries of what we can know for sure, and in the search for truth, to strive where the laws of evidence can't reach them. A fascination with the extraordinary is natural in light of the limitations felt while in these earthly bodies; and many will always be found unwilling to wait until this physical form fades away and we shall be given a body that comes from Heaven.


APPENDIX.

I. Lawson's Prefatory Address.
II. Lawson's Brief Account.
III. Letter to Jonathan Corwin.
IV. Extracts from Mr. Parris's Church Records.

I. Lawson's Introductory Address.
II. Lawson's Short Summary.
III. Letter to Jon Corwin.
IV. Excerpts from Mr. Parris's Church Records.


APPENDIX.


I.

PREFATORY ADDRESS.

[From the edition of Deodat Lawson's Sermon printed in London, 1704.]

[From the edition of Deodat Lawson's Sermon printed in London, 1704.]

 

To all my Christian Friends and Acquaintance, the Inhabitants of Salem Village.

To all my Christian friends and acquaintances, the residents of Salem Village.

Christian Friends,—The sermon here presented unto you was delivered in your audience by that unworthy instrument who did formerly spend some years among you in the work of the ministry, though attended with manifold sinful failings and infirmities, for which I do implore the pardoning mercy of God in Jesus Christ, and entreat from you the covering of love. As this was prepared for that particular occasion when it was delivered amongst you, so the publication of it is to be particularly recommended to your service.

Christian Friends,—The sermon you are about to read was delivered in your presence by someone who was once among you for several years in ministry, despite having many sinful shortcomings and weaknesses. For this, I sincerely ask for God's forgiving mercy through Jesus Christ, and I also ask for your understanding and support. This sermon was prepared for that specific occasion when it was shared with you, and its publication is especially meant to serve you.

My heart's desire and continual prayer to God for you all is, that you may be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus Christ; and, accordingly, that all means he is using with you, by mercies and afflictions, ordinances and providences, may be sanctified to the building you up in grace and holiness, and preparing you for the kingdom of glory. We are told by the apostle (Acts xiv. 22), that through many tribulations we must enter into the kingdom of God. Now, since (besides your share in the common calamities, under the burden whereof this poor people are groaning at this time) the righteous and holy God hath been pleased to permit a sore and grievous affliction to befall you, such as can hardly be said to be common to men; viz., by giving liberty to Satan to range and rage amongst you, to the torturing the bodies and distracting the minds of some of the visible sheep and lambs of the Lord Jesus Christ. And (which is yet more astonishing) he who is the accuser of the brethren endeavors to introduce as criminal some of the visible subjects of Christ's kingdom, by whose sober and godly conversation in times[ii.526] past we could draw no other conclusions than that they were real members of his mystical body, representing them as the instruments of his malice against their friends and neighbors.

My heartfelt wish and constant prayer to God for all of you is that you may be saved on the day of the Lord Jesus Christ; and, as such, that all the means He is using with you—through mercy and trials, ordinances and circumstances—may help you grow in grace and holiness, preparing you for the kingdom of glory. The apostle tells us (Acts 14:22) that we must enter the kingdom of God through many tribulations. Now, since, in addition to your share in the common hardships that this poor community is suffering right now, the righteous and holy God has allowed a severe and painful trial to come upon you—one that can hardly be considered common among people—namely, giving Satan the freedom to roam and wreak havoc among you, torturing the bodies and disturbing the minds of some of the visible sheep and lambs of the Lord Jesus Christ. And what is even more astonishing is that the one who accuses the brethren is trying to label some of the visible members of Christ's kingdom as guilty, despite the fact that their sober and godly behavior in times past led us to conclude that they were genuine members of His mystical body, portraying them as tools of His malice against their friends and neighbors.

I thought meet thus to give you the best assistance I could, to help you out of your distresses. And since the ways of the Lord, in his permissive as well as effective providence, are unsearchable, and his doings past finding out, and pious souls are at a loss what will be the issue of these things, I therefore bow my knees unto the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, that he would cause all grace to abound to you and in you, that your poor place may be delivered from those breaking and ruining calamities which are threatened as the pernicious consequences of Satan's malicious operations; and that you may not be left to bite and devour one another in your sacred or civil society, in your relations or families, to the destroying much good and promoting much evil among you, so as in any kind to weaken the hands or discourage the heart of your reverend and pious pastor, whose family also being so much under the influence of these troubles, spiritual sympathy cannot but stir you up to assist him as at all times, so especially at such a time as this; he, as well as his neighbors, being under such awful circumstances. As to this discourse, my humble desire and endeavor is, that it may appear to be according to the form of sound words, and in expressions every way intelligible to the meanest capacities. It pleased God, of his free grace, to give it some acceptation with those that heard it, and some that heard of it desired me to transcribe it, and afterwards to give way to the printing of it. I present it therefore to your acceptance, and commend it to the divine benediction; and that it may please the Almighty God to manifest his power in putting an end to your sorrows of this nature, by bruising Satan under your feet shortly, causing these and all other your and our troubles to work together for our good now, and salvation in the day of the Lord, is the unfeigned desire, and shall be the uncessant prayer, of—

I wanted to meet with you to offer the best help I can to support you through your struggles. Since the ways of the Lord, both in what He allows and what He actively does, are beyond our understanding, and His actions are often hard to comprehend, many faithful individuals are unsure of how these situations will resolve. Therefore, I kneel before God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, asking Him to let all grace overflow to you and within you, so that your troubled community may be freed from the devastating disasters that are a result of Satan's harmful influence. I hope you do not turn against one another in your spiritual or civic lives, in your relationships or families, causing harm and undermining the good, which might also discourage your devoted and righteous pastor. His own family is greatly affected by these troubles, so spiritual solidarity should encourage you to support him now, especially during these challenging times, as he and his neighbors face such grim circumstances. Regarding this conversation, my sincere hope and effort is that it is clear and understandable, even to the simplest minds. It pleased God, by His grace, to have it received positively by those who heard it, and some of them asked me to write it down and later allow it to be published. I present it to you for your consideration and commend it to divine blessing. May Almighty God reveal His power by swiftly ending your sorrows, by defeating Satan and making these and all your troubles contribute to our collective good now, and to our salvation on the day of the Lord. This is my genuine desire, and it will be my continual prayer.

Less than the least, of all those that serve,

Less than the least of everyone who serves,

In the Gospel of our Lord Jesus,

In the Gospel of our Lord Jesus,

DEODAT LAWSON.

DEODAT LAWSON.

II.

DEODAT LAWSON'S NARRATIVE.

[Appended to his Sermon, London edition, 1704.]

[Appended to his Sermon, London edition, 1704.]

 

At the request of several worthy ministers and Christian friends, I do here annex, by way of appendix to the preceding sermon, some brief account of those amazing things which occasioned that discourse to be delivered. Let the reader please therefore to take it in the brief remarks following, and judge as God shall incline him.

At the request of several esteemed ministers and Christian friends, I am adding a brief account of the remarkable events that led to the delivery of the previous sermon as an appendix. I ask the reader to consider the brief remarks that follow and judge as God leads them.

It pleased God, in the year of our Lord 1692, to visit the people at a place called Salem Village, in New England, with a very sore and grievous affliction, in which they had reason to believe that the sovereign and holy God was pleased to permit Satan and his instruments to affright and afflict those poor mortals in such an astonishing and unusual manner.

It pleased God, in the year 1692, to visit the people at a place called Salem Village in New England, with a very severe and painful affliction, during which they had reason to believe that the sovereign and holy God allowed Satan and his followers to frighten and torment those poor souls in such an astonishing and unusual way.

Now, I having for some time before attended the work of the ministry in that village, the report of those great afflictions came quickly to my notice, and the more readily because the first person afflicted was in the minister's family who succeeded me after I was removed from them. In pity, therefore, to my Christian friends and former acquaintance there, I was much concerned about them, frequently consulted with them, and fervently, by divine assistance, prayed for them; but especially my concern was augmented when it was reported, at an examination of a person suspected for witchcraft, that my wife and daughter, who died three years before, were sent out of the world under the malicious operations of the infernal powers, as is more fully represented in the following remarks. I did then desire, and was also desired by some concerned in the Court, to be there present, that I might hear what was alleged in that respect; observing, therefore, when I was amongst them, that the case of the afflicted was very amazing and deplorable, and the charges brought against the accused such as were ground of suspicions, yet very intricate, and difficult to draw up right conclusions about them; I thought good, for the satisfaction of myself and such of my friends as might be curious to inquire into those mysteries of God's providence and Satan's malice, to draw up and keep by me a brief account of the most remarkable things that came to my knowledge in those affairs, which remarks were afterwards (at my request) revised and corrected by some who sat judges on the bench in those matters, and were now transcribed from the same paper on which they were then written. After this, I being by the providence of God[ii.528] called over into England in the year 1696, I then brought that paper of remarks on the witchcraft with me; upon the sight thereof some worthy ministers and Christian friends here desired me to reprint the sermon, and subjoin the remarks thereunto in way of appendix; but for some particular reasons I did then decline it. But now, forasmuch as I myself had been an eye and ear witness of most of those amazing things, so far as they came within the notice of human senses, and the requests of my friends were renewed since I came to dwell in London, I have given way to the publishing of them, that I may satisfy such as are not resolved to the contrary, that there may be (and are) such operations of the powers of darkness on the bodies and minds of mankind by divine permission, and that those who sat judges on those cases may, by the serious consideration of the formidable aspect and perplexed circumstances of that afflictive providence, be in some measure excused, or at least be less censured, for passing sentence on several persons as being the instruments of Satan in those diabolical operations, when they were involved in such a dark and dismal scene of providence, in which Satan did seem to spin a finer thread of spiritual wickedness than in the ordinary methods of witchcraft: hence the judges, desiring to bear due testimony against such diabolical practices, were inclined to admit the validity of such a sort of evidence as was not so clearly and directly demonstrable to human senses as in other cases is required, or else they could not discover the mysteries of witchcraft. I presume not to impose upon my Christian or learned reader any opinion of mine how far Satan was an instrument in God's hand in these amazing afflictions which were on many persons there about that time; but I am certainly convinced, that the great God was pleased to lengthen his chain to a very great degree for the hurting of some and reproaching of others, as far as he was permitted so to do. Now, that I may not grieve any whose relations were either accused or afflicted in those times of trouble and distress, I choose to lay down every particular at large, without mentioning any names or persons concerned (they being wholly unknown here); resolving to confine myself to such a proportion of paper as is assigned to these remarks in this impression of the book, yet, that I may be distinct, shall speak briefly to the matter under three heads; viz.:—

Now, I had been involved in the ministry in that village for some time, so the news of those great troubles quickly reached me. This was made more urgent by the fact that the first person affected was from the minister's family who took over after I left. Out of compassion for my Christian friends and former acquaintances there, I was very concerned about them. I frequently consulted with them and fervently prayed for them, especially when it was reported, during an examination of someone suspected of witchcraft, that my wife and daughter, who passed away three years earlier, were taken from this world due to the malicious actions of evil forces, as I’ll explain further in the following remarks. I wanted to be there and was also invited by some involved in the Court, so I could hear what was being claimed. When I WAS with them, I found the case of the afflicted to be astonishing and tragic, and the accusations against the accused were suspicious yet complicated and difficult to draw clear conclusions about. I thought it would be good, for my own satisfaction and for the curiosity of friends looking to understand God’s providence and Satan’s malice, to compile a brief account of the most notable things I learned about these events. These remarks were later revised and corrected at my request by some who served as judges in these matters and were now transcribed from the original paper on which they were written. Later, in 1696, I was called back to England by God's providence, and I took that paper about the witchcraft with me. Upon seeing it, some respected ministers and Christian friends here asked me to reprint the sermon and include the remarks as an appendix, but for specific reasons, I declined at that time. Now, since I had personally witnessed many of those incredible events through human senses, and because my friends' requests were renewed after I moved to London, I decided to publish them. This is to satisfy those who are open to the idea that there can be (and are) operations of dark powers affecting the bodies and minds of people with divine permission, and that those who were judges in these cases may, upon serious reflection on the daunting nature and complex circumstances of that distressing situation, be somewhat excused, or at least face less criticism, for pronouncing judgment on several individuals as instruments of Satan in those evil dealings, especially when they found themselves in such a dark and depressing context where Satan seemed to weave a more intricate thread of spiritual wickedness than usual practices of witchcraft did. Consequently, the judges, wanting to bear proper witness against such evil practices, were inclined to accept the validity of evidence that wasn’t as clear or directly demonstrable to human senses as is typically required in other cases, or they wouldn’t have been able to uncover the mysteries of witchcraft. I don’t intend to impose my views on any Christian or learned reader regarding the extent to which Satan acted as an instrument in God's hand during those astonishing troubles affecting many people around that time. However, I am convinced that God allowed Satan quite a bit of freedom to harm some and dishonor others as far as He was permitted. To avoid causing distress to anyone whose loved ones were accused or affected during those troubling times, I prefer to outline everything in detail without mentioning any names or individuals involved (as they are entirely unknown here). I’ll also stick to the amount of paper allocated for these remarks in this edition of the book while ensuring my points are clear by discussing the matter briefly under three headings:—

1. Relating to the afflicted.
2. Relating to the accused. And,
3. Relating to the confessing witches.

1. Relating to those who are suffering.
2. Relating to the accused. And,
3. Relating to the witches who confessed.

To begin with the afflicted.—

To start with the affected.—

1. One or two of the first that were afflicted complaining of unusual illness, their relations used physic for their cure; but it was altogether in vain.

1. One or two of the first people affected complained of unusual illness, and their relatives used medicine to try to cure them; but it was completely useless.

2. They were oftentimes very stupid in their fits, and could neither hear nor understand, in the apprehension of the standers-by; so that, when prayer hath been made with some of them in such a manner as might be audible in a great congregation, yet, when their fit was off, they declared they did not hear so much as one word thereof.[ii.529]

2. They were often really out of it during their episodes, and couldn’t hear or understand anything, at least according to those watching. So, even when prayers were said loudly enough for a large crowd to hear, once they came to, they said they hadn’t heard a single word of it.[ii.529]

3. It was several times observed, that, when they were discoursed with about God or Christ, or the things of salvation, they were presently afflicted at a dreadful rate; and hence were oftentimes outrageous, if they were permitted to be in the congregation in the time of the public worship.

3. It was noticed several times that when they were talked to about God or Christ, or matters of salvation, they became extremely disturbed; and because of this, they often acted out violently if they were allowed to be present in the congregation during public worship.

4. They sometimes told at a considerable distance, yea, several miles off, that such and such persons were afflicted, which hath been found to be done according to the time and manner they related it; and they said the spectres of the suspected persons told them of it.

4. They sometimes reported from quite a distance, even several miles away, that certain individuals were affected, which has been shown to happen in the way and time they described; and they claimed that the ghosts of the accused individuals informed them about it.

5. They affirmed that they saw the ghosts of several departed persons, who, at their appearing, did instigate them to discover such as (they said) were instruments to hasten their deaths, threatening sorely to afflict them if they did not make it known to the magistrates. They did affirm at the examination, and again at the trial of an accused person, that they saw the ghosts of his two wives (to whom he had carried very ill in their lives, as was proved by several testimonies), and also that they saw the ghosts of my wife and daughter (who died above three years before); and they did affirm, that, when the very ghosts looked on the prisoner at the bar, they looked red, as if the blood would fly out of their faces with indignation at him. The manner of it was thus: several afflicted being before the prisoner at the bar, on a sudden they fixed all their eyes together on a certain place of the floor before the prisoner, neither moving their eyes nor bodies for some few minutes, nor answering to any question which was asked them: so soon as that trance was over, some being removed out of sight and hearing, they were all, one after another, asked what they saw; and they did all agree that they saw those ghosts above mentioned. I was present, and heard and saw the whole of what passed upon that account, during the trial of that person who was accused to be the instrument of Satan's malice therein.

5. They claimed that they saw the ghosts of several deceased people, who, upon appearing, urged them to identify those they said were responsible for speeding up their deaths, threatening to severely punish them if they didn't report it to the authorities. During the examination, and again at the trial of an accused individual, they stated that they saw the ghosts of his two wives (whom he had treated very poorly during their lives, as confirmed by various testimonies), as well as the ghosts of my wife and daughter (who had died over three years earlier). They insisted that when the very ghosts looked at the prisoner in the courtroom, their faces turned red, as if their blood might spill from their faces in anger at him. The scene unfolded like this: several afflicted individuals stood before the prisoner, and suddenly, they all focused their eyes on a specific spot on the floor in front of him, not moving their eyes or bodies for a few minutes, and not responding to any questions asked of them. Once that trance ended and some were taken out of sight and hearing, they were each asked one by one what they saw, and they all agreed that they saw the aforementioned ghosts. I was present and witnessed everything that occurred on that account during the trial of the person accused of being an instrument of Satan's malice in this matter.

6. In this (worse than Gallick) persecution by the dragoons of hell, the persons afflicted were harassed at such a dreadful rate to write their names in a Devil-book presented by a spectre unto them: and one, in my hearing, said, "I will not, I will not write! It is none of God's book, it is none of God's book: it is the Devil's book, for aught I know;" and, when they steadfastly refused to sign, they were told, if they would but touch, or take hold of, the book, it should do; and, lastly, the diabolical propositions were so low and easy, that, if they would but let their clothes, or any thing about them, touch the book, they should be at ease from their torments, it being their consent that is aimed at by the Devil in those representations and operations.

6. In this (worse than Gallick) persecution by the hellish dragoons, the afflicted were tormented to the point of being forced to sign a Devil-book presented by a specter. I heard one person say, "I won’t, I won’t sign! It’s not God’s book, it’s not God’s book: it’s the Devil's book, as far as I know." When they firmly refused to sign, they were told that just touching or holding the book would be enough. Ultimately, the wicked demands were so low and easy that if they merely let their clothes or anything on them touch the book, they would be freed from their suffering, as it was their consent that the Devil sought through these tricks and manipulations.

7. One who had been long afflicted at a stupendous rate by two or three spectres, when they were (to speak after the manner of men) tired out with tormenting of her to force or fright her to sign a covenant with the Prince of Darkness, they said to her, as in a diabolical and accursed passion, "Go your ways, and the Devil go with you; for we will be no more pestered and plagued about you." And, ever after that, she was well, and no more afflicted, that ever I heard of.[ii.530]

7. Someone who had been tormented for a long time by two or three ghosts, when they were (to put it in human terms) exhausted from trying to scare her into making a deal with the Devil, finally told her, in a wicked and cursed way, "Just go away, and take the Devil with you; we don’t want to be bothered by you anymore." After that, she was fine and never suffered again, at least not that I heard of.[ii.530]

8. Sundry pins have been taken out of the wrists and arms of the afflicted; and one, in time of examination of a suspected person, had a pin run through both her upper and her lower lip when she was called to speak, yet no apparent festering followed thereupon, after it was taken out.

8. Various pins have been removed from the wrists and arms of the affected; and one, during the examination of a suspected person, had a pin pierce both her upper and lower lip when she was asked to speak, yet there was no noticeable infection afterward, after it was removed.

9. Some of the afflicted, as they were striving in their fits in open court, have (by invisible means) had their wrists bound fast together with a real cord, so as it could hardly be taken off without cutting. Some afflicted have been found with their arms tied, and hanged upon an hook, from whence others have been forced to take them down, that they might not expire in that posture.

9. Some of the afflicted, while struggling during their episodes in open court, have, by unseen forces, had their wrists tightly bound together with a real cord, making it nearly impossible to remove without cutting. Some afflicted individuals have been discovered with their arms tied and hanging from a hook, from which others had to rescue them, so they wouldn’t die in that position.

10. Some afflicted have been drawn under tables and beds by undiscerned force, so as they could hardly be pulled out; and one was drawn half-way over the side of a well, and was, with much difficulty, recovered back again.

10. Some people who were suffering have been pulled under tables and beds by an unseen force, making it hard to get them out; and one person was pulled halfway over the edge of a well, and it took a lot of effort to get them back.

11. When they were most grievously afflicted, if they were brought to the accused, and the suspected person's hand but laid upon them, they were immediately relieved out of their tortures; but, if the accused did but look on them, they were instantly struck down again. Wherefore they used to cover the face of the accused, while they laid their hands on the afflicted, and then it obtained the desired issue: for it hath been experienced (both in examinations and trials), that, so soon as the afflicted came in sight of the accused, they were immediately cast into their fits; yea, though the accused were among the crowd of people unknown to the sufferers, yet, on the first view, were they struck down, which was observed in a child of four or five years of age, when it was apprehended, that so many as she could look upon, either directly or by turning her head, were immediately struck into their fits.

11. When they were suffering the most, if they were brought to the accused and the suspected person's hand was just laid on them, they were instantly relieved from their pain; however, if the accused merely looked at them, they would instantly be struck down again. Therefore, they would cover the face of the accused while laying hands on the afflicted, which produced the desired effect: it has been observed (both in examinations and trials) that as soon as the afflicted saw the accused, they immediately fell into their fits; indeed, even when the accused was in a crowd of strangers to the sufferers, the moment they saw them, they were struck down. This was noted in a child of four or five years old, who, it was found, could cause anyone she looked at, directly or by turning her head, to immediately fall into fits.

12. An iron spindle of a woollen wheel, being taken very strangely out of an house at Salem Village, was used by a spectre as an instrument of torture to a sufferer, not being discernible to the standers-by, until it was, by the said sufferer, snatched out of the spectre's hand, and then it did immediately appear to the persons present to be really the same iron spindle.

12. An iron spindle from a wool wheel was very strangely removed from a house in Salem Village. It was used by a ghost as a tool of torture on a victim, but it wasn't visible to those around until the victim suddenly grabbed it from the ghost's hand. At that point, the iron spindle became clearly visible to everyone present.

13. Sometimes, in their fits, they have had their tongues drawn out of their mouths to a fearful length, their heads turned very much over their shoulders; and while they have been so strained in their fits, and had their arms and legs, &c., wrested as if they were quite dislocated, the blood hath gushed plentifully out of their mouths for a considerable time together, which some, that they might be satisfied that it was real blood, took upon their finger, and rubbed on their other hand. I saw several together thus violently strained and bleeding in their fits, to my very great astonishment that my fellow-mortals should be so grievously distressed by the invisible powers of darkness. For certainly all considerate persons who beheld these things must needs be convinced, that their motions in their fits were preternatural and involuntary, both as to the manner, which was so strange as a well person could not (at least without great pain) screw their bodies into,[ii.531] and as to the violence also, they were preternatural motions, being much beyond the ordinary force of the same persons when they were in their right minds; so that, being such grievous sufferers, it would seem very hard and unjust to censure them of consenting to, or holding any voluntary converse or familiarity with, the Devil.

13. Sometimes, during their fits, they would have their tongues pulled out of their mouths to a frightening length, their heads twisted way over their shoulders; and while they were contorted in their fits, their arms and legs, etc., stretched as if they were completely dislocated, blood would pour out of their mouths for quite a while. Some people, to be sure it was real blood, would take it on their fingers and rub it on their other hand. I saw several people together, violently contorted and bleeding during their fits, and I was very astonished that my fellow human beings could be so severely tormented by invisible forces of darkness. For certainly, anyone who witnessed these events must have been convinced that their movements during the fits were unnatural and involuntary, both because of how strange they were—no healthy person could (at least without extreme pain) contort their bodies into such shapes—and also because of the violence of the movements, which were far beyond the normal strength of the same individuals when they were in their right minds. Therefore, since they were such severe sufferers, it would seem very harsh and unjust to accuse them of consenting to or having any voluntary communication or familiarity with the Devil.

14. Their eyes were, for the most part, fast closed in their trance-fits, and when they were asked a question they could give no answer; and I do verily believe, they did not hear at that time; yet did they discourse with the spectres as with real persons, asserting things and receiving answers affirmative or negative, as the matter was. For instance, one, in my hearing, thus argued with, and railed at, a spectre: "Goodw—-, begone, begone, begone! Are you not ashamed, a woman of your profession, to afflict a poor creature so? What hurt did I ever do you in my life? You have but two years to live, and then the Devil will torment your soul for this. Your name is blotted out of God's book, and it shall never be put into God's book again. Begone! For shame! Are you not afraid of what is coming upon you? I know, I know what will make you afraid,—the wrath of an angry God: I am sure that will make you afraid. Begone! Do not torment me. I know what you would have" (we judged she meant her soul): "but it is out of your reach; it is clothed with the white robes of Christ's righteousness." This sufferer I was well acquainted with, and knew her to be a very sober and pious woman, so far as I could judge; and it appears that she had not, in that fit, voluntary converse with the Devil, for then she might have been helped to a better guess about that woman abovesaid, as to her living but two years, for she lived not many months after that time. Further, this woman, in the same fit, seemed to dispute with a spectre about a text of Scripture: the apparition seemed to deny it; she said she was sure there was such a text, and she would tell it; and then said she to the apparition, "I am sure you will be gone, for you cannot stand before that text." Then was she sorely afflicted,—her mouth drawn on one side, and her body strained violently for about a minute; and then said, "It is, it is, it is," three or four times, and then was afflicted to hinder her from telling; at last, she broke forth, and said, "It is the third chapter of the Revelations." I did manifest some scruple about reading it, lest Satan should draw any thereby superstitiously to improve the word of the eternal God; yet judging I might do it once, for an experiment, I began to read; and, before I had read through the first verse, she opened her eyes, and was well. Her husband and the spectators told me she had often been relieved by reading texts pertinent to her case,—as Isa. 40, 1, ch. 49, 1, ch. 50, 1, and several others. These things I saw and heard from her.

14. Most of them had their eyes shut tight during their trance-like states, and when asked a question, they couldn’t respond; honestly, I think they couldn’t even hear at that time. Yet, they interacted with the spirits as if they were real people, making statements and getting replies, either yes or no, depending on the situation. For example, one of them argued with and scolded a spirit: "Goodw—-, go away! Are you not ashamed, a woman like you, to torment a poor person like me? What harm have I ever done you? You only have two years left to live, and then the Devil will be tormenting your soul for this. Your name is erased from God's book, and it will never be added again. Leave! Shame on you! Aren't you scared about what’s coming for you? I know, I know what will frighten you—the wrath of an angry God: I’m certain that will scare you. Go away! Don’t torment me. I know what you want" (we thought she meant her soul): "but it’s out of your reach; it's covered by the white robes of Christ’s righteousness." I was familiar with this individual and knew her to be a very serious and devout woman, as far as I could tell; it seems she wasn’t voluntarily conversing with the Devil during that fit, otherwise, she might have had a better idea about that woman I mentioned who was said to have only two years left, because she didn’t live many months after that. Furthermore, this woman, during the same fit, appeared to argue with a spirit about a Bible verse: the apparition seemed to deny its existence; she insisted she was sure there was such a verse and she would state it; then she said to the apparition, "I’m sure you will leave because you can’t withstand that verse." Then she was severely afflicted—her mouth twisted to one side, and her body was violently strained for about a minute; finally, she exclaimed, "It is, it is, it is," three or four times, and then she was hindered from saying it; eventually, she burst out, saying, "It is the third chapter of Revelations." I hesitated about reading it, worried that Satan might use it superstitiously to exploit God's eternal word; but thinking I could do it once for an experiment, I began to read. Before I finished the first verse, she opened her eyes and was fine. Her husband and the onlookers told me she had often found relief from reading verses relevant to her situation—like Isa. 40:1, ch. 49:1, ch. 50:1, and several others. I witnessed and heard all these things from her.

15. They were vehemently afflicted, to hinder any persons praying with them, or holding them in any religious discourse. The woman mentioned in the former section was told by the spectre I should not go to prayer; but she said I should, and, after I had done, reasoned with the apparition, "Did not I say he should go to prayer?" I went also to visit a person afflicted in[ii.532] Boston; and, after I was gone into the house to which she belonged, she being abroad, and pretty well, when she was told I was there, she said, "I am loath to go in; for I know he will fall into some good discourse, and then I am sure I shall go into a fit." Accordingly, when she came in, I advised her to improve all the respite she had to make her peace with God, and sue out her pardon through Jesus Christ, and beg supplies of faith and every grace to deliver her from the powers of darkness; and, before I had uttered all this, she fell into a fearful fit of diabolical torture.

15. They were strongly disturbed, preventing anyone from praying with them or engaging in any religious conversation. The woman mentioned earlier was told by the ghost that I shouldn’t go pray; but she insisted that I should, and after I did, she confronted the apparition, saying, "Didn’t I say he should go pray?" I also went to visit someone suffering in[ii.532] Boston; when I arrived at her house, she was outside and doing pretty well. When she was told I was there, she said, "I’m hesitant to go in; I know he’ll start some good conversation, and then I’ll definitely have a fit." When she finally came in, I advised her to use any moment of calm to make peace with God, seek forgiveness through Jesus Christ, and ask for faith and every grace to free her from the powers of darkness; before I could finish speaking, she collapsed into a terrifying fit of demonic torment.

16. Some of them were asked how it came to pass that they were not affrighted when they saw the black-man: they said they were at first, but not so much afterwards.

16. Some of them were asked how it happened that they weren't scared when they saw the black-man: they said they were at first, but not as much later on.

17. Some of them affirmed they saw the black-man sit on the gallows, and that he whispered in the ears of some of the condemned persons when they were just ready to be turned off, even while they were making their last speech.

17. Some of them claimed they saw the black-man sitting on the gallows, and that he whispered in the ears of some of the condemned just before they were executed, even while they were giving their final speech.

18. They declared several things to be done by witchcraft, which happened before some of them were born,—as strange deaths of persons, casting away of ships, &c.; and they said the spectres told them of it.

18. They claimed that several things were caused by witchcraft, which occurred before some of them were born—like unusual deaths of people, shipwrecks, etc.; and they said the spirits informed them about it.

19. Some of them have sundry times seen a white-man appearing amongst the spectres, and, as soon as he appeared, the black-witches vanished: they said this white-man had often foretold them what respite they should have from their fits, as sometimes a day or two or more, which fell out accordingly. One of the afflicted said she saw him, in her fit, and was with him in a glorious place which had no candle nor sun, yet was full of light and brightness, where there was a multitude in white, glittering robes, and they sang the song in Rev. 5, 9; Psal. 110, 149. She was loath to leave that place, and said, "How long shall I stay here? Let me be along with you." She was grieved she could stay no longer in that place and company.

19. Some of them have seen a white man appear among the spirits at different times, and as soon as he showed up, the black witches disappeared. They said this white man often predicted how long they would be free from their fits, sometimes for a day or two, or even longer, and it happened just as he said. One of the afflicted said she saw him during her fit and was with him in a glorious place that didn’t have candles or a sun, yet was full of light and brightness, where there was a crowd in white, shining robes, and they sang the song in Rev. 5, 9; Psal. 110, 149. She was reluctant to leave that place and said, "How long shall I stay here? Let me be with you." She was upset that she couldn’t remain there any longer with that group.

20. A young woman that was afflicted at a fearful rate had a spectre appeared to her with a white sheet wrapped about it, not visible to the standers-by until this sufferer (violently striving in her fit) snatched at, took hold, and tore off a corner of that sheet. Her father, being by her, endeavored to lay hold upon it with her, that she might retain what she had gotten; but, at the passing-away of the spectre, he had such a violent twitch of his hand as if it would have been torn off: immediately thereupon appeared in the sufferer's hand the corner of a sheet,—a real cloth, visible to the spectators, which (as it is said) remains still to be seen.

20. A young woman who was suffering at an alarming rate had a ghost appear to her wrapped in a white sheet, which was invisible to everyone around until she, violently struggling in her episode, reached out, grabbed, and tore a corner off that sheet. Her father, who was with her, tried to grab it too so she could keep what she had taken, but as the ghost vanished, he felt a sharp jerk in his hand as if it might be pulled off. Right after that, a corner of the sheet—a real piece of fabric, visible to the onlookers—appeared in the young woman's hand, which, as it's said, can still be seen today.

REMARKABLE THINGS RELATING TO THE ACCUSED.

NOTABLE THINGS ABOUT THE DEFENDANT.

1. A woman, being brought upon public examination, desired to go to prayer. The magistrates told her they came not there to hear her pray, but to examine her in what was alleged against her relating to suspicions of witchcraft.

1. A woman, brought in for a public examination, wanted to pray. The magistrates told her they were not there to listen to her pray, but to question her about the accusations related to suspicions of witchcraft.

2. It was observed, both in times of examination and trial, that the[ii.533] accused seemed little affected with what the sufferers underwent, or what was charged against them as being the instruments of Satan therein, so that the spectators were grieved at their unconcernedness.

2. It was noted, during both the investigation and the trial, that the[ii.533] accused appeared largely unaffected by what the victims experienced or by the accusations that they were somehow responsible for it, which left the onlookers feeling upset by their indifference.

3. They were sometimes their own image, and not always practising upon poppets made of clouts, wax, or other materials, (according to the old methods of witchcraft); for natural actions in them seemed to produce preternatural impressions on the afflicted, as biting their lips in time of examination and trial caused the sufferers to be bitten so as they produced the marks before the magistrates and spectators: the accused pinching their hands together seemed to cause the sufferers to be pinched; those again stamping with their feet, these were tormented in their legs and feet, so as they stamped fearfully. After all this, if the accused did but lean against the bar at which they stood, some very sober women of the afflicted complained of their breasts, as if their bowels were torn out; thus, some have since confessed, they were wont to afflict such as were the objects of their malice.

3. Sometimes they were their own image and didn't always use dolls made of rags, wax, or other materials (like in the old practices of witchcraft); instead, natural actions seemed to create supernatural effects on those who were afflicted. For example, biting their lips during questioning caused the victims to feel as if they were being bitten, showing marks before the magistrates and spectators. When the accused pinched their hands together, the victims felt pinched; when they stamped their feet, the victims experienced torment in their legs and feet, causing them to stamp fearfully. After all this, if the accused simply leaned against the bar where they stood, some very respectable women among the afflicted complained of intense pain in their breasts, as if their insides were being torn out; thus, some have since confessed that they used to harm those they disliked.

4. Several were accused of having familiarity with the black-man in time of examination and trial, and that he whispered in their ears, and therefore they could not hear the magistrates; and that one woman accused rid (in her shape and spectre) by the place of judicature, behind the black man, in the very time when she was upon examination.

4. Several people were accused of being familiar with the black-man during the time of questioning and trial, and that he whispered in their ears, which prevented them from hearing the magistrates; and that one woman accused him (in her form and spirit) at the place of judgment, behind the black man, right when she was being questioned.

5. When the suspected were standing at the bar, the afflicted have affirmed that they saw their shapes in other places suckling a yellow bird; sometimes in one place and posture, and sometimes in another. They also foretold that the spectre of the prisoner was going to afflict such or such a sufferer, which presently fell out accordingly.

5. When the suspects were standing at the bar, the victims claimed they saw their figures in different locations feeding a yellow bird; sometimes in one position and sometimes in another. They also predicted that the ghost of the prisoner was going to torment a specific person, which soon happened as they said.

6. They were accused by the sufferers to keep days of hellish fasts and thanksgivings; and, upon one of their fast-days, they told a sufferer she must not eat, it was fast-day. She said she would: they told her they would choke her then, which, when she did eat, was endeavored.

6. The people who were suffering accused them of enforcing days of terrible fasting and giving thanks; and on one of their fasting days, they told a sufferer not to eat because it was a fasting day. She said she would eat anyway; they warned her that they would choke her if she did, which they attempted to do when she ate.

7. They were also accused to hold and administer diabolical sacraments; viz., a mock-baptism and a Devil-supper, at which cursed imitations of the sacred institutions of our blessed Lord they used forms of words to be trembled at in the very rehearsing: concerning baptism I shall speak elsewhere. At their cursed supper, they were said to have red bread and red drink; and, when they pressed an afflicted person to eat and drink thereof, she turned away her head, and spit at it, and said, "I will not eat, I will not drink: it is blood. That is not the bread of life, that is not the water of life; and I will have none of yours." Thus horribly doth Satan endeavor to have his kingdom and administrations to resemble those of our Lord Jesus Christ.

7. They were also accused of performing and administering evil sacraments, like a fake baptism and a Devil's supper, where they used twisted imitations of the sacred rituals of our Lord, employing words that should make anyone shudder just to hear. I will address baptism later. At their wicked supper, they supposedly had red bread and red drink; when they pressured an afflicted person to eat and drink, she turned her head away, spit it out, and said, "I will not eat, I will not drink: it is blood. That is not the bread of life, that is not the water of life; and I will have none of yours." In this horrific way, Satan tries to make his kingdom and practices look like those of our Lord Jesus Christ.

8. Some of the most sober afflicted persons, when they were well, did affirm the spectres of such and such as they did complain of in their fits did appear to them, and could relate what passed betwixt them and the apparitions, after their fits were over, and give account after what manner they were hurt by them.

8. Some of the most sober affected individuals, when they were well, did confirm that the spirits of certain people they complained about during their episodes appeared to them, and they could recount what occurred between them and the apparitions after their episodes ended, as well as explain how they were harmed by them.

9. Several of the accused would neither in time of examination nor trial[ii.534] confess any thing of what was laid to their charge: some would not admit of any minister to pray with them, others refused to pray for themselves. It was said by some of the confessing witches, that such as have received the Devil-sacrament can never confess: only one woman condemned, after the death-warrant was signed, freely confessed, which occasioned her reprieval for some time; and it was observable this woman had one lock of hair of a very great length, viz., four foot and seven inches long by measure. This lock was of a different color from all the rest, which was short and gray. It grew on the hinder part of her head, and was matted together like an elf-lock. The Court ordered it to be cut off, to which she was very unwilling, and said she was told if it were cut off she should die or be sick; yet the Court ordered it so to be.

9. Several of the accused didn’t confess to anything during their examination or trial[ii.534]: some wouldn’t let any minister pray with them, and others refused to pray for themselves. Some of the witches who had confessed said that those who had received the Devil’s sacrament could never confess. Only one woman who was condemned, after her death warrant was signed, confessed freely, which led to her being given a temporary reprieve. It was noticeable that this woman had a single lock of hair that was extremely long, measuring four feet and seven inches. This lock was a different color from the rest of her hair, which was short and gray. It grew on the back of her head and was tangled like an elf-lock. The Court ordered it to be cut off, which she was very reluctant to do, saying she had been told that if it were cut off, she would either die or fall ill; however, the Court insisted it be done.

10. A person who had been frequently transported to and fro by the devils for the space of near two years, was struck dumb for about nine months of that time; yet he, after that, had his speech restored to him, and did depose upon oath, that, in the time while he was dumb, he was many times bodily transported to places where the witches were gathered together, and that he there saw feasting and dancing; and, being struck on the back or shoulder, was thereby made fast to the place, and could only see and hear at a distance. He did take his oath that he did, with his bodily eyes, see some of the accused at those witch-meetings several times. I was present in court when he gave his testimony. He also proved by sundry persons, that, at those times of transport, he was bodily absent from his abode, and could nowhere be found, but being met with by some on the road, at a distance from his home, was suddenly conveyed away from them.

10. A person who had been frequently transported back and forth by demons for nearly two years was mute for about nine months during that time; however, after that, he regained his ability to speak and testified under oath that while he was mute, he was physically taken to places where witches were gathered, where he witnessed feasting and dancing. He reported that when he was struck on the back or shoulder, he was then unable to move from that spot and could only see and hear from a distance. He swore that he saw some of the accused at those witch meetings multiple times. I was present in court when he gave his testimony. He also provided evidence from several people that during those episodes of transport, he was physically absent from his home and could not be found anywhere, but when he crossed paths with some people on the road, away from his house, he was suddenly taken away from them.

11. The afflicted persons related that the spectres of several eminent persons had been brought in amongst the rest; but, as the sufferers said the Devil could not hurt them in their shapes, but two witches seemed to take them by each hand, and lead them or force them to come in.

11. The affected individuals reported that the apparitions of several well-known figures had appeared alongside others; however, as the victims stated, the Devil couldn't harm them in those forms, but two witches seemed to take them by each hand, leading or forcing them to enter.

12. Whiles a godly man was at prayer with a woman afflicted, the daughter of that woman (being a sufferer in the like kind) affirmed that she saw two of the persons accused at prayer to the Devil.

12. While a righteous man was praying with a woman who was suffering, that woman’s daughter (who was also suffering in a similar way) claimed that she saw two of the accused individuals praying to the Devil.

13. It was proved by substantial evidences against one person accused, that he had such an unusual strength (though a very little man), that he could hold out a gun with one hand behind the lock, which was near seven foot in the barrel, being as much as a lusty man could command with both hands after the usual manner of shooting. It was also proved, that he lifted barrels of meat and barrels of molasses out of a canoe alone, and that putting his fingers into a barrel of molasses (full within a finger's length according to custom) he carried it several paces; and that he put his finger into the muzzle of a gun which was more than five foot in the barrel, and lifted up the butt-end thereof, lock, stock, and all, without any visible help to raise it. It was also testified, that, being abroad with his wife and his wife's brother, he occasionally staid behind, letting his wife and her brother walk forward; but, suddenly coming up with them, he was angry with his wife for what[ii.535] discourse had passed betwixt her and her brother: they wondering how he should know it, he said, "I know your thoughts;" at which expression, they, being amazed, asked him how he could do that; he said, "My God, whom I serve, makes known your thoughts to me."

13. Substantial evidence was presented against a man accused of having such unusual strength (even though he was quite small) that he could hold a nearly seven-foot-long gun with one hand behind the lock, something a strong man would struggle to do with both hands in the usual way of shooting. It was also shown that he could lift barrels of meat and molasses out of a canoe by himself, and that he could put his fingers into a barrel of molasses (which was full to the customary limit of a finger's length) and carry it several paces. Additionally, he demonstrated that he could insert his finger into the muzzle of a gun over five feet long and lift the entire gun—lock, stock, and all—without any visible assistance. Testimony was also given that while he was out with his wife and her brother, he sometimes stayed behind, allowing them to walk ahead. However, when he suddenly caught up with them, he got angry at his wife for the conversation she had with her brother. When they were surprised that he knew about it, he stated, "I know your thoughts," to which they, astonished, asked how he could do that. He replied, "My God, whom I serve, makes known your thoughts to me."

I was present when these things were testified against him, and observed that he could not make any plea for himself (in these things) that had any weight: he had the liberty of challenging his jurors before empanelling, according to the statute in that case, and used his liberty in challenging many; yet the jury that were sworn brought him in guilty.

I was there when these things were said about him, and I saw that he couldn't make a strong argument for himself regarding them: he had the right to challenge his jurors before they were selected, as stated in the law, and he exercised that right by challenging many of them; still, the jury that was sworn in found him guilty.

14. The magistrates privately examined a child of four or five years of age, mentioned in the remarks of the afflicted, sect. 11: [p. 530] and the child told them it had a little snake which used to suck on the lowest joint of its forefinger; and, when they (inquiring where) pointed to other places, it told them not there but here, pointing on the lowest joint of the forefinger, where they observed a deep red spot about the bigness of a flea-bite. They asked it who gave it that snake, whether the black man gave it: the child said no, its mother gave it. I heard this child examined by the magistrates.

14. The magistrates privately interviewed a child who was about four or five years old, mentioned in the remarks of the afflicted, sect. 11: [p. 530] and the child told them it had a little snake that used to suck on the lowest joint of its forefinger; when they asked where, it pointed to other places but said not there but here, indicating the lowest joint of the forefinger, where they noticed a deep red spot roughly the size of a flea bite. They asked who gave it the snake, whether it was the black man, and the child replied no, its mother gave it. I heard this child being questioned by the magistrates.

15. It was proved by sundry testimonies against some of the accused, that, upon their malicious imprecations, wishes, or threatenings, many observable deaths and diseases, with many other odd inconveniences, have happened to cattle and other estate of such as were so threatened by them, and some to the persons of men and women.

15. Various testimonies against some of the accused showed that, due to their harmful curses, wishes, or threats, many noticeable deaths and diseases, along with several other strange problems, have occurred to the livestock and belongings of those they threatened, as well as to some men and women.

REMARKABLE THINGS CONFESSED BY SOME SUSPECTED OF BEING GUILTY OF WITCHCRAFT.

UNBELIEVABLE CONFESSIONS FROM THOSE ACCUSED OF WITCHCRAFT.

1. It pleased God, for the clearer discovery of those mysteries of the kingdom of darkness, so to dispose, that several persons, men, women, and children, did confess their hellish deeds, as followeth:—

1. It pleased God, for a clearer understanding of the mysteries of the kingdom of darkness, to arrange it so that various people—men, women, and children—confessed their wicked actions, as follows:—

2. They confessed against themselves that they were witches, told how long they had been so, and how it came about that the Devil appeared to them; viz., sometimes upon discontent at their mean condition in the world, sometimes about fine clothes, sometimes for the gratifying other carnal and sensual lusts. Satan then, upon his appearing to them, made them fair (though false) promises, that, if they would yield to him, and sign his book, their desires should be answered to the uttermost, whereupon they signed it; and thus the accursed confederacy was confirmed betwixt them and the Prince of Darkness.

2. They admitted that they were witches, shared how long they had been involved in it, and explained how the Devil had appeared to them; often it was due to their dissatisfaction with their lowly status in life, sometimes it was for nice clothes, and other times it was to satisfy their carnal and sensual desires. When Satan appeared to them, he made them enticing (though deceitful) promises that if they submitted to him and signed his book, all their wishes would be granted. They then signed it; thus, the cursed agreement was sealed between them and the Prince of Darkness.

3. Some did affirm that there were some hundreds of the society of witches, considerable companies of whom were affirmed to muster in arms by beat of drum. In time of examinations and trials, they declared that such a man was wont to call them together from all quarters to witch-meetings with the sound of a diabolical trumpet.

3. Some claimed that there were hundreds in the witch community, with significant groups said to gather together armed at the sound of a drum. During examinations and trials, they stated that a certain man used to summon them from all directions to witch meetings with the sound of a wicked trumpet.

4. Being brought to see the prisoners at the bar upon their trials, they did affirm in open court (I was then present), that they had oftentimes seen[ii.536] them at witch-meetings, where was feasting, dancing, and jollity, as also at Devil-sacraments; and particularly that they saw such a man —— amongst the rest of the cursed crew, and affirmed that he did administer the sacrament of Satan to them, encouraging them to go on in their way, and they should certainly prevail. They said also that such a woman —— was a deacon, and served in distributing the diabolical elements: they affirmed that there were great numbers of the witches.

4. When they were brought in to see the defendants during their trials, they stated openly in court (I was there at the time) that they had frequently seen[ii.536] them at witch gatherings, where there was eating, dancing, and revelry, as well as at devil-worship ceremonies. They specifically pointed out a certain man —— among the rest of the cursed group, claiming that he performed the sacrament of Satan for them, urging them to continue on their path, assuring them that they would definitely succeed. They also mentioned that a certain woman —— was a deacon, involved in distributing the devilish elements: they insisted that there were many witches present.

5. They affirmed that many of those wretched souls had been baptized at Newbury Falls, and at several other rivers and ponds; and, as to the manner of administration, the great Officer of Hell took them up by the body, and, putting their heads into the water, said over them, "Thou art mine, I have full power over thee:" and thereupon they engaged and covenanted to renounce God, Christ, their sacred baptism, and the whole way of Gospel salvation, and to use their utmost endeavors to oppose the kingdom of Christ, and to set up and advance the kingdom of Satan.

5. They confirmed that many of those unfortunate souls had been baptized at Newbury Falls and at several other rivers and ponds. As for how the baptism was performed, the main Officer of Hell would pick them up by the body, lower their heads into the water, and say to them, "You are mine, I have complete power over you." After that, they agreed and promised to reject God, Christ, their holy baptism, and the entire path of Gospel salvation, and to do everything they could to oppose the kingdom of Christ and promote the kingdom of Satan.

6. Some, after they had confessed, were very penitent, and did wring their hands, and manifest a distressing sense of what they had done, and were by the mercies of God recovered out of those snares of the kingdom of darkness.

6. Some, after they had confessed, were very remorseful, and wrung their hands, showing a deep sense of distress over what they had done, and were by the mercies of God rescued from those traps of the kingdom of darkness.

7. Several have confessed against their own mothers, that they were instruments to bring them into the Devil's covenant, to the undoing of them, body and soul; and some girls of eight or nine years of age did declare, that, after they were so betrayed by their mothers to the power of Satan, they saw the Devil go in their own shapes to afflict others.

7. Several have admitted that their own mothers were involved in leading them into the Devil's pact, which ruined them, body and soul; and some girls as young as eight or nine years old claimed that after being betrayed by their mothers to Satan's power, they saw the Devil take on their own forms to harm others.

8. Some of those that confessed were immediately afflicted at a dreadful rate, after the same manner with the other sufferers.

8. Some of those who confessed were immediately tormented at a terrifying level, just like the other victims.

9. Some of them confessed, that they did afflict the sufferers according to the time and manner they were accused thereof; and, being asked what they did to afflict them, some said that they pricked pins into poppets made with rags, wax, and other materials: one that confessed after the signing the death-warrant said she used to afflict them by clutching and pinching her hands together, and wishing in what part and after what manner she would have them afflicted, and it was done.

9. Some of them admitted that they caused harm to the victims in the way and at the times they were accused of doing so; and when asked how they harmed them, some said they stuck pins into dolls made of rags, wax, and other materials: one who confessed after signing the death warrant said she would harm them by squeezing and pinching her hands together, wishing for specific parts and ways to hurt them, and it happened.

10. They confessed the design was laid by this witchcraft to root out the interest of Christ in New England, and that they began at the Village in order to settling the kingdom of darkness and the powers thereof; declaring that such a man —— was to be head conjurer, and for his activity in that affair was to be crowned king of hell, and that such a woman —— was to be queen of hell.

10. They admitted that the plan was created by this witchcraft to eliminate the influence of Christ in New England and that they started at the Village to establish the kingdom of darkness and its powers; stating that such a man —— was to be the chief conjurer, and for his involvement in that matter was to be crowned the king of hell, and that such a woman —— was to be the queen of hell.

Thus I have given my reader a brief and true account of those fearful and amazing operations and intrigues of the Prince of Darkness: and I must call them so; for, let some persons be as incredulous as they please about the powerful and malicious influence of evil angels upon the minds and bodies of mankind, sure I am none that observed those things above mentioned could refer them to any other head than the sovereign permission of the holy God,[ii.537] and the malicious operations of his and our implacable enemy. I have here related nothing more than what was acknowledged to be true by the judges that sat on the bench, and other credible persons there, which I have without prejudice or partiality represented.

So, I’ve given my readers a brief and accurate account of the terrifying and astonishing actions and schemes of the Prince of Darkness; and I have to call them that. Because, no matter how skeptical some people might be about the powerful and harmful influence of evil spirits on the minds and bodies of humans, I’m sure that anyone who witnessed the events I mentioned would attribute them solely to the sovereign permission of the holy God,[ii.537] and the malicious actions of his and our relentless enemy. I’ve only reported what was recognized as true by the judges present and other credible individuals, and I’ve presented it without bias or favoritism.

I therefore close all with my uncessant prayers, that the great and everlasting Jehovah would, for the sake of his blessed Son, our most glorious intercessor, rebuke Satan, and so vanquish him, from time to time, that his power may be more and more every day suppressed, his kingdom destroyed; and that all his malicious and accursed instruments in those spiritual wickednesses may gnash their teeth, melt away, and be ashamed in their secret places, till they come to be judged and condemned unto the place of everlasting burnings prepared for the Devil and his angels, that they may there be tormented with him for ever and ever.

I conclude with my constant prayers that the great and eternal God, for the sake of His blessed Son, our glorious intercessor, would rebuke Satan and defeat him repeatedly, so that his power may be suppressed more and more each day, his kingdom destroyed; and that all his evil and cursed agents in those spiritual wrongdoings may gnash their teeth, fade away, and feel ashamed in their hidden places, until they are judged and condemned to the place of eternal flames prepared for the Devil and his angels, where they will be tormented with him forever and ever.

III.

LETTER FROM R.P. TO JONATHAN CORWIN.

Salisbury, Aug. 9, 1692.

Salisbury, Aug. 9, 1692.

Honored Sir,—According as in my former to you I hinted that I held myself obliged to give you some farther account of my rude though solemn thoughts of that great case now before you, the happy management whereof do so much conduce to the glory of God, the safety and tranquillity of the country, besides what I have said in my former and the enclosed, I further humbly present to consideration the doubtfulness and unsafety of admitting spectre testimony against the life of any that are of blameless conversation, and plead innocent, from the uncertainty of them and the incredulity of them; for as for diabolical visions, apparitions, or representations, they are more commonly false and delusive than real, and cannot be known when they are real and when feigned, but by the Devil's report; and then not to be believed, because he is the father of lies.

Dear Sir/Madam,—As I mentioned in my previous message, I feel obligated to provide you with more insight into my raw yet serious thoughts on the important matter currently before you. The successful handling of this issue greatly contributes to the glory of God, the safety and peace of our country. In addition to what I have previously shared and what is enclosed, I would like to respectfully highlight the uncertainty and danger of accepting ghostly testimony against anyone who lives a respectable life and claims innocence. This is due to their uncertainty and untrustworthiness; for instances of demonic visions, apparitions, or manifestations are typically more misleading than genuine. It's impossible to distinguish when these occurrences are real or fabricated without relying on the Devil's word, which should not be trusted since he is the father of lies.

1. Either the organ of the eye is abused and the senses deluded, so as to think they do see or hear some thing or person, when indeed they do not, and this is frequent with common jugglers.

1. Either the eye is misused and the senses are fooled into thinking they see or hear something or someone when, in reality, they do not, and this happens often with regular magicians.

2. The Devil himself appears in the shape and likeness of a person or thing, when it is not the person or thing itself; so he did in the shape of Samuel.

2. The Devil himself shows up as the appearance of a person or thing, even though it isn’t really that person or thing; just like he did in the form of Samuel.

3. And sometimes persons or things themselves do really appear, but how it is possible for any one to give a true testimony, which possibly did see neither shape nor person, but were deluded; and if they did see any thing, they know not whether it was the person or but his shape. All that can be rationally or truly said in such a case is this,—that I did see the shape or likeness of such a person, if my senses or eyesight were not deluded: and they can honestly say no more, because they know no more (except the Devil tells them more); and if he do, they can but say he told them so. But the matter is still incredible: first, because it is but their saying the Devil told them so; if he did so tell them, yet the verity of the thing remains still unproved, because the Devil was a liar and a murtherer (John viii. 44), and may tell these lies to murder an innocent person.

3. Sometimes people or things actually do appear, but how can anyone give a true account if they potentially saw neither form nor person, but were misled? And if they did see something, they can't be sure if it was the person or just their shape. The only thing that can be reasonably or honestly said in such a case is this: I saw the shape or likeness of that person, assuming my senses or eyesight weren’t deceived. They can honestly say no more, because they don’t know anything more (unless the Devil tells them more); and if he does, all they can say is that he told them so. But the situation remains unbelievable: first, because it’s just their claim that the Devil told them; even if he did, the truth of the matter is still unproven, since the Devil is a liar and a killer (John 8:44) and might tell these lies to harm an innocent person.

But this case seems to be solved by an assertion of some, that affirm that the Devil do not or cannot appear in the shape of a godly person, to do hurt: others affirm the contrary, and say that he can and often have so done, of[ii.539] which they give many instances for proof of what they say; which if granted, the case remains yet unsolved, and yet the very hinge upon which that weighty case depends. To which I humbly say: First, That I do lament that such a point should be so needful to be determined, which seems not probable, if possible, to be determined to infallible satisfaction for want of clear Scripture to decide it by, though very rational to be believed according to rules; as, for instance, if divers examples are alleged of the shape of persons that have been seen, of whom there is ample testimony that they lived and died in the faith, yet, saith the objecter, 'tis possible they may be hypocrites, therefore the proof not infallible: and as it may admit of such an objection against the reasons given on the affirmative, much more may the same objection be made against the negative, for which they can or do give no reason at all, nor can a negative be proved (therefore difficult to be determined to satisfy infallibly); but, seeing it must be discussed, I humbly offer these few words: First, I humbly conceive that the saints on earth are not more privileged in that case than the saints in heaven; but the Devil may appear in the shape of a saint in heaven, namely, in the shape of Samuel (1 Sam. xxviii. 13, 14); therefore he can or may represent the shape of a saint that is upon the earth. Besides, there may be innocent persons that are not saints, and their innocency ought to be their security, as well as godly men's; and I hear nobody question but the Devil may take their shape.

But this situation seems to be resolved by some who claim that the Devil cannot or does not appear as a godly person to do harm. Others disagree and say that he can and has done so, providing many examples as proof. If that is accepted, the issue still remains unresolved, which is crucial to this important matter. To this, I humbly say: Firstly, I regret that such a point should be so necessary to determine, which seems unlikely, if at all possible, to be settled to everyone's satisfaction due to the lack of clear Scripture to resolve it, even though it is quite reasonable to believe based on logic. For instance, if various examples are cited of individuals who have been seen and about whom there is ample testimony that they lived and died in the faith, yet the objector claims, “It’s possible they may be hypocrites,” therefore the evidence isn’t conclusive. Just as such an objection can be raised against the reasons provided for the affirmative, it can be made against the negative as well, for which no reasons are provided at all. A negative can't be proven (making it difficult to determine with certainty). But since it must be discussed, I humbly offer these few thoughts: First, I believe that the saints on earth are not more protected in this matter than the saints in heaven; therefore the Devil may appear in the shape of a saint in heaven, such as Samuel (1 Sam. xxviii. 13, 14), which means he can or may take on the shape of a saint on earth. Additionally, there may be innocent people who aren’t saints, and their innocence should afford them the same protection as godly individuals; I don’t hear anyone questioning that the Devil can take their shape.

Secondly, It doth not hurt any man or woman to present the shape or likeness of an innocent person, more than for a limner or carver to draw his picture, and show it, if he do not in that form do some evil (nor then neither), if the laws of man do not oblige him to suffer for what the Devil doth in his shape, the laws of God do not.

Secondly, it doesn't harm anyone to show the form or likeness of an innocent person, just like it's not wrong for an artist to create and display a picture, as long as they don't use that image to do any harm (and even then, it wouldn't be wrong). If the laws of man don’t require someone to be punished for the evil that the Devil does in his form, then the laws of God don't either.

Thirdly, The Devil had power, by God's permission, to take the very person of our Lord Jesus Christ, in the day or time of his humiliation, and carry him from place to place, and tempted him with temptations of horrid blasphemy, and yet left him innocent. Why may we not suppose the like may be done to a good man? And why not much more appear in his shape (or make folk think it is his shape, when indeed it is not), and yet the person be innocent, being far enough off, and not knowing of it, nor would consent if he had known it, his profession and conversation being otherwise?

Thirdly, the Devil had the power, with God’s permission, to take the very person of our Lord Jesus Christ during His time of humiliation, moving Him from place to place and tempting Him with horrifying blasphemies, yet He left Him innocent. Why shouldn't we think the same could happen to a good person? And why not even more, appear in His likeness (or make people believe it’s Him when it’s really not), while the person remains innocent, being far away and unaware, and wouldn’t agree to it if he knew, given his profession and behavior?

Fourthly, I suppose 'tis granted by all, that the person of one that is dead cannot appear, because the soul and body are separated, and so the person is dissolved, and so ceaseth to be: and it is as certain that the person of the living cannot be in two places at one time, but he that is at Boston cannot be at Salem or Cambridge at the same time; but as the malice and envy in the Devil makes it his business to seek whom he may devour, so no question but he doth infuse the same quality into those that leave Jesus Christ to embrace him, that they do envy those that are innocent, and upon that account be as ready to say and swear that they did see them as the Devil is to present their shape to them. Add but this also, that, when they are once under his power, he puts them on headlong (they must needs go whom the Devil drives, saith[ii.540] the proverb), and the reason is clear,—because they are taken captive by him, to do his will. And we see, by woful and undeniable experience, both in the afflicted persons and the confessors, some of them, that he torments them at his pleasure, to force them to accuse others. Some are apt to doubt they do but counterfeit; but, poor souls! I am utterly of another mind, and I lament them with all my heart; but, take which you please, the case is the same as to the main issue. For, if they counterfeit, the wickedness is the greater in them, and the less in the Devil: but if they be compelled to it by the Devil, against their wills, then the sin is the Devil's, and the sufferings theirs; but if their testimonies be allowed of, to make persons guilty by, the lives of innocent persons are alike in danger by them, which is the solemn consideration that do disquiet the country.

Fourthly, I think it's agreed by everyone that a dead person cannot appear because their soul and body are separated, and thus the person ceases to exist. It's also true that a living person cannot be in two places at once; someone in Boston can't be in Salem or Cambridge at the same time. However, just as the malice and envy of the Devil drives him to seek out those he can devour, it's clear that he instills the same qualities in those who turn away from Jesus Christ to embrace him. They tend to envy the innocent and are quick to claim they saw them, just as the Devil is quick to present their shapes to them. Furthermore, once they fall under his influence, he pushes them headlong into their actions (as the saying goes, "they must go whom the Devil drives"), and the reason is obvious—they are taken captive by him to do his will. We can see from painful and undeniable experiences, both in the afflicted individuals and their accusers, that the Devil torments them to force them to accuse others. Some might doubt that they are just pretending, but I, for one, feel deep sympathy for them; regardless of how you look at it, the situation remains the same. If they're faking it, their wickedness is even worse, and the Devil's role is diminished. But if they're compelled by the Devil against their wills, then the sin is his, and the suffering is theirs. However, if their testimonies are accepted as proof against people, then the lives of innocent individuals are equally at risk because of them, which is a serious issue that troubles the community.

Now, that the only wise God may so direct you in all, that he may have glory, the country peace and safety, and your hands strengthened in that great work, is the desire and constant prayer of your humble servant, R.P., who shall no further trouble you at present.

Now, may the only wise God guide you in everything, so that He may receive glory, the country may enjoy peace and safety, and you may be strengthened in that important work. This is the wish and ongoing prayer of your humble servant, R.P., who won't trouble you any further at this time.

Position.—That to put a witch to death is the command of God, and therefore the indispensable duty of man,—namely, the magistrate (Ex. xxii. 18); which, granted, resolves two questions that I have heard made by some:—

Position.—The command from God is to put a witch to death, which makes it an essential duty of man—specifically, the magistrate (Ex. xxii. 18); this acknowledgment answers two questions I have heard raised by some:—

First, Whether there are any such creatures as witches in the world. Secondly, If there be, whether they can be known to be such by men: both which must be determined on the affirmative, or else that commandment were in vain.

First, whether there are any creatures like witches in the world. Secondly, if there are, whether people can recognize them as such: both of which must be answered affirmatively, or else that commandment would be pointless.

Position Second.—That it must be witches that are put to death, and not innocent persons: "Thou shalt not condemn the innocent nor the righteous" (Ex. xxiii. 7).

Position Second.—That witches should be put to death, and not innocent people: "You shall not condemn the innocent or the righteous" (Ex. xxiii. 7).

Query.—Which premised, it brings to this query,—namely, how a witch may be known to be a witch.

Query.—Based on this premise, it leads to the question—how can one identify a witch?

Answer.—First, By the mouth of two or three witnesses (Deut xix. 15; Matt. xviii. 16; Deut. xvii. 6). Secondly, They may be known by their own confession, being compos mentis, and not under horrid temptation to self-murther (2 Sam. xvi.; Josh. vii. 16).

Answer.—First, by the testimony of two or three witnesses (Deut xix. 15; Matt. xviii. 16; Deut. xvii. 6). Secondly, they can be identified by their own confession, being of sound mind and not under extreme temptation to commit suicide (2 Sam. xvi.; Josh. vii. 16).

Query Second.—What is it that those two or three witnesses must swear? Must they swear that such a person is a witch? Will that do the thing, as is vulgarly supposed?

Query Second.—What exactly must those two or three witnesses swear? Do they have to swear that someone is a witch? Will that be enough, as is commonly believed?

Answer.—I think that is too unsafe to go by, as well as hard to be done by the advised: First, because it would expose the lives of all alike to the pleasure or passion of those that are minded to take them away; secondly, because that, in such a testimony, the witnesses are not only informers in matter of fact, but sole judges of the crime,—which is the proper work of the judges, and not of witnesses.

Answer.—I think it's too dangerous to rely on this, and also difficult for the advised to implement: First, because it would put everyone's lives at the mercy of those who might want to harm them; secondly, because in such a testimony, the witnesses are not only reporting facts but also acting as the only judges of the crime—which is the responsibility of judges, not witnesses.

Query Third.—What is it that the witnesses must testify in the case, to prove one to be a witch?[ii.541]

Query Third.—What do the witnesses need to testify in the case to prove someone is a witch?[ii.541]

Answer.—They must witness the person did put forth some act which, if true, was an act of witchcraft, or familiarity with the Devil, the witness attest the fact to be upon his certain knowledge, and the judges to judge that fact to be such a crime.

Answer.—They need to see that the person actually did something that, if true, would be considered witchcraft or having dealings with the Devil. The witness must confirm this based on their own knowledge, and the judges must decide that this action is indeed a crime.

Query Fourth.—What acts are they which must be proved to be committed by a person, that shall be counted legal proof of witchcraft, or familiarity with the Devil?

Query Fourth.—What actions must be demonstrated to have been committed by someone in order to be considered legal evidence of witchcraft or a connection with the Devil?

Answer.—This I do profess to be so hard a question, for want of light from the Word of God and laws of men, that I do not know what to say to it; and therefore humbly conceive, that, in such a difficulty, it may be more safe, for the present, to let a guilty person live till further discovery, than to put an innocent person to death.

Answer.—This is a really tough question for me, since I'm lacking guidance from the Word of God and the laws of society. I honestly don't know what to say about it. Because of this challenge, I believe it might be safer, for now, to let a guilty person live until more information comes to light, rather than to execute an innocent person.

First, Because a guilty person may afterward be discovered, and so put to death; but an innocent person to be put to death cannot be brought again to life when once dead.

First, because a guilty person might later be found out and executed, but an innocent person cannot be brought back to life once they are dead.

Secondly, Because secret things belong to God only, but revealed things to us and to our children. And though it be so difficult sometimes, yet witches there are, and may be known by some acts or other put forth by them, that may render them such; for Scripture examples, I can remember but few in the Old Testament, besides Balaam (Num. xxii. 6, xxxi. 16).

Secondly, secret things belong only to God, while revealed things are for us and our children. Even though it can be really difficult at times, witches exist and can sometimes be recognized by certain actions of theirs. For examples from Scripture, I can recall only a few in the Old Testament, apart from Balaam (Num. xxii. 6, xxxi. 16).

First, The sorcerers of Egypt could not tell the interpretation of Pharaoh's dream, though he told them his dream (Gen. xli. 8): his successors afterwards had sorcerers, that by enchantments did, first, turn their rods into serpents (Exod. vii. 11, 12); second, turned water into blood; thirdly, brought frogs upon the land of Egypt (Exod. viii. 7).

First, the sorcerers of Egypt could not explain the meaning of Pharaoh's dream, even though he shared it with them (Gen. xli. 8). His successors later had sorcerers who, through magic, first turned their staffs into snakes (Exod. vii. 11, 12); second, turned water into blood; and third, brought frogs upon the land of Egypt (Exod. viii. 7).

Thirdly, Nebuchadnezzar's magicians said that they would tell him the interpretation, if he would tell them his dream (Dan. iv. 7); but the king did not believe them (ver. 8, 9).

Thirdly, Nebuchadnezzar's magicians claimed they could explain his dream if he shared it with them (Dan. iv. 7); but the king didn’t trust them (ver. 8, 9).

Fourthly, The Witch of Endor raised the Devil, in the likeness of Samuel, to tell Saul his fortune; and Saul made use of him accordingly (1 Sam. xxviii. 8, 11-15); and, as for New Testament, I see very little of that nature. Our Lord Jesus Christ did cast out many devils, and so did his disciples, both while he was upon earth and afterward, of which some were dreadfully circumstanced (Mark ix. 18; Mark v. 2-5); but of witches, we only read of four mentioned in the apostles' time: first, Simon Magus (Acts viii. 9, 11); secondly, Elymas the sorcerer (Acts xiii. 6, 8); thirdly, the seven sons of Sceva, a Jew, that were vagabond Jews,—exorcists (Acts xix. 13-16); fourthly, the girl which, by a spirit of divination, brought her master much gain (Acts xvi. 16), whether it were by telling fortunes or finding out lost things, as our cunning men do, is not said; but something it was that was done by that spirit which was in her, which, being cast out, she could not do. Now, whatever was done by any of these, by the help of the Devil, or by virtue of familiarity with him, or that the Devil did do by their consent or instigation, it is that which, the like being now proved to be done by others, is legal conviction of witchcraft, or familiarity with the Devil.[ii.542]

Fourthly, the Witch of Endor called up the Devil, appearing as Samuel, to reveal Saul’s fate; Saul then used him accordingly (1 Sam. xxviii. 8, 11-15). As for the New Testament, I see very little of that kind. Our Lord Jesus Christ cast out many demons, and so did his disciples, both during his time on earth and afterwards, some of whom were in terrifying situations (Mark ix. 18; Mark v. 2-5). However, we only read about four witches mentioned during the apostles’ time: first, Simon Magus (Acts viii. 9, 11); second, Elymas the sorcerer (Acts xiii. 6, 8); third, the seven sons of Sceva, a Jewish family of wandering exorcists (Acts xix. 13-16); fourth, the girl who, through a spirit of divination, brought her master a lot of money (Acts xvi. 16). It’s unclear whether she did this by telling fortunes or finding lost things, like our fortune tellers today, but something was done by the spirit in her, and once cast out, she could no longer do it. Now, whatever was accomplished by any of these, with the help of the Devil or through a connection with him, or what the Devil did with their consent or encouragement, is what, when similar actions are proved to occur by others, legally confirms witchcraft or a bond with the Devil.[ii.542]

As I remember, Mr. Perkins apprehends witchcraft may be sometimes committed by virtue of an implicit covenant with the Devil, though there be not explicit covenant visibly between them; namely, by using such words and gestures whereby they do intimate to the Devil what they would have him do, and he doth it.

As I recall, Mr. Perkins believes that witchcraft can sometimes occur through an unspoken agreement with the Devil, even if there isn't a clear, visible contract between them. This happens through specific words and gestures that suggest to the Devil what they want him to do, and he does it.

3. To tell events contingent, or to bring any thing to pass by supernatural means, or by no means.

3. To describe events that depend on conditions, or to cause anything to happen through supernatural methods, or by any means.

I have heard of some that make a circle, and mumble over some uncouth words; and some that have been spiteful and suspicious persons, that have sent for a handful of thatch from the house or barn of him that they have owed a spite to, and the house have been burnt as they had burnt the thatch that they fetched.

I’ve heard of some people who create a circle and mumble strange words; and there are some spiteful and suspicious individuals who have asked for a handful of thatch from the house or barn of someone they hold a grudge against, leading to the house burning down just like the thatch they took.

When Captain Smith was cast away in the ship built by Mr. Stevens at Gloucester, many years ago, it was said that the woman that was accused for doing it did put a dish in a pail of water, and sent her girl several times to see the motion of the dish, till at last it was turned over, and then the woman said, "Now Smith is gone," or "is cast away."

When Captain Smith was stranded on the ship built by Mr. Stevens in Gloucester many years ago, it was said that the woman accused of causing it put a dish in a bucket of water and sent her girl several times to check the motion of the dish until finally it tipped over. Then the woman said, "Now Smith is gone," or "is cast away."

A neighbor of mine, who was a Hampshire man, told me that a suspected woman desired something of some of the family, which being denied, she either muttered or threatened, and some evil suddenly followed, and they put her into a cart to carry her to Winchester; and, when they had gone a little way, the team could not move the cart, though in plain ground. The master commanded to carry a knitch of straw, and burn her in the cart; which to avoid, she said they should go along, and they did. This they did several times before they came to Winchester, of which passages the men that went with her gave their oaths, and she was executed.

A neighbor of mine from Hampshire told me that a woman who was suspected of something asked a member of the family for a favor. When they refused her, she either mumbled something or threatened them, and then some misfortune happened suddenly. They put her in a cart to take her to Winchester, and after traveling a short distance, the team couldn't move the cart, even though the ground was flat. The owner commanded that they bring a bundle of straw and burn her in the cart; to avoid that, she claimed they should continue on, and they did. This happened several times before they reached Winchester, and the men who went with her swore to it, and she was executed.

Some have been transformed into dogs, cats, hares, hogs, and other creatures; and in those shapes have sometimes received wounds which have made them undeniably guilty, and so confessed. Sometimes having their imps sucking them, or infallible tokens that they are sucked, in the search of which great caution to be given, because of some superfluities of nature, and diseases that people are incident unto, as the piles, &c., of which the judges are, upon the testimony of the witnesses, to determine what of crime is proved by any of these circumstances, with many other, in which God is pleased many times, by some overt acts, to bring to light that secret wickedness to apparent conviction, sometimes by their own necessitated confession, whereby those that he hath commanded to be put to death may be known to be such, which, when known, then it is a duty to put them to death, and not before, though they were as guilty before as then.

Some have been turned into dogs, cats, hares, hogs, and other animals; and in those forms, they have sometimes been wounded, making them undeniably guilty, and they have confessed. Sometimes they have had their imps feeding on them, or clear signs that they are being fed upon, in the search for which great care must be taken, due to some natural excesses and diseases that people can experience, like hemorrhoids, etc. The judges are to determine, based on witness testimony, what crime is proven by any of these circumstances, among many others, in which God often reveals hidden wickedness through clear actions, sometimes through their compelled confessions. This is how those who are meant to be executed can be identified as such, and once they are identified, it becomes our duty to execute them, and not before, even though they were just as guilty before as they are at that moment.

There are two queries more with respect to what is proper to us in this juncture of time, of which we have no account of the like being common at other times, or in other places; namely, these,—

There are two questions regarding what is right for us at this moment, which we have no record of being common at other times or in other places; specifically, these:—

Query Fifth.—The fifth query is, what we are to think of those persons at Salem, or the Village, before whom people are brought for detection, or otherwise to be concerned with them, in order to their being apprehended or acquitted.[ii.543]

Query Fifth.—The fifth question is, what should we think about those individuals in Salem, or the Village, before whom people are brought for identification, or in other ways involved with them, in order for them to be arrested or cleared of charges.[ii.543]

Answer.—That I am, of all men, the least able to give any conjecture about it, because I do not know it, having myself never seen it, nor know nothing of it but by report, in which there must be supposed a possibility of some mistake, in part or in whole; but that which I have here heard is this: First, That they do tell who are witches, of which some they know, and some they do not. Secondly, They tell who did torment such and such a person, though they know not the person. Thirdly, They are tormented themselves by the looks of persons that are present, and recovered again by the touching of them. Fourthly, That, if they look to them, they fall down tormented; but, if the persons accused look from them, they recover, or do not fall into that torment. Fifthly, They can tell when a person is coming before they see them, and what clothes they have, and some what they have done for several years past, which nobody else ever accused them with, nor do not yet think them guilty of. Sixthly, That the dead out of their graves do appear unto them, and tell them that they have been murdered, and require them to see them to be revenged on the murtherers, which they name to them; some of which persons are well known to die their natural deaths, and publicly buried in the sight of all men. Now, if these things be so, I thus affirm,—

Answer.—I am, of all people, the least qualified to guess about it because I don't know it; I've never seen it myself and everything I know is just hearsay, which could be wrong in part or entirely. However, what I've heard is this: First, they name who the witches are; some they are sure of, and some they aren't. Second, they identify who tormented certain individuals, even if they don't know those individuals. Third, they experience torment simply by the gaze of those around them, but they can be soothed by someone touching them. Fourth, if they look at their accusers, they fall down in torment; but if those accused look away, they recover and don't fall into that torment. Fifth, they can sense when someone is approaching, even before seeing them, and know what clothing they are wearing and some of their actions over the years, which no one else has ever brought up nor do they consider the person guilty. Sixth, the dead rise from their graves and tell them they were murdered, demanding they seek revenge on the murderers they name, some of whom are known to have died naturally and were publicly buried. Now, if these things are true, I hereby affirm,—

First, That whatsoever is done by them that is supernatural, is either divine or diabolical.

First, everything they do that is supernatural is either from God or from the devil.

Secondly, That nothing is, or can be, divine, but what have God's stamp upon it, to which he refers for trial (Isa. viii. 19, 20): "If they speak not according to these, there is no light in them."

Secondly, nothing is, or can be, divine except what has God’s stamp on it, which He refers to for judgment (Isa. viii. 19, 20): "If they do not speak according to this, there is no light in them."

Thirdly, And by that rule none of these actions of theirs have any warrant in God's word, but condemned wholly.

Thirdly, according to that standard, none of their actions have any support in God's word and are completely condemned.

First, It is utterly unlawful to inquire of the dead, or to be informed by them (Isa. viii. 19). It was an act of the Witch of Endor to raise the dead, and of a reprobate Saul to inquire of him (1 Sam. xxviii. 8, 11-14; Deut. xviii. 11).

First, it is completely illegal to ask the dead for information, or to receive knowledge from them (Isa. viii. 19). The Witch of Endor raised the dead, and it was a despicable act for Saul to seek her out (1 Sam. xxviii. 8, 11-14; Deut. xviii. 11).

Secondly, It is a like evil to seek to them that have familiar spirits (Lev. xix. 31). It was the sin of Saul in the forementioned place (1 Sam. xxviii. 8); and of wicked Manasses (2 Kings, xxi. 6).

Secondly, it is also wrong to turn to those who have familiar spirits (Lev. xix. 31). This was the sin of Saul in the previously mentioned instance (1 Sam. xxviii. 8); and of the wicked Manasseh (2 Kings, xxi. 6).

Thirdly, No more is it likely that their racking and tormenting should be done by God or good angels, but by the Devil, whose manner have ever been to be so employed. Witness his dealing with the poor child (Mark ix. 17, 19, 20-22); and with the man that was possessed by him (Mark v. 2-5); besides what he did to Job (Job ii. 7); and all the lies that he told against him to the very face of God.

Thirdly, it is no longer likely that their suffering and torment come from God or good angels, but from the Devil, whose nature has always been to act this way. Just look at how he treated the poor child (Mark 9:17, 19, 20-22) and the man who was possessed by him (Mark 5:2-5); not to mention what he did to Job (Job 2:7) and all the lies he told against him directly to God.

Fourthly, The same may be rationally said of all the rest. Who should tell them things that they do not see, but the Devil; especially when some things that they tell are false and mistaken?

Fourthly, the same can logically be said of everything else. Who should inform them about things they don’t understand, if not the Devil; especially when some of the things they say are false and inaccurate?

Query Sixth.—These things premised, it now comes to the last and greatest question or query; namely, How shall it be known when the Devil do any of these acts of his own proper motion, without human concurrence,[ii.544] consent, or instigation, and when he doth it by the suggestion or consent of any person? This question, well resolved, would do our business.

Query Sixth.—With these points established, we now arrive at the final and most important question: How can we know when the Devil acts entirely on his own, without human agreement, consent, or encouragement, and when he acts with someone else's suggestion or consent?[ii.544] Answering this question clearly would help us a lot.

First, That the Devil can do acts supernatural without the furtherance of him by human consent or concurrence; but men or women cannot do them without the help of the Devil (must be granted). That granted, it follows, that the Devil is always the doer, but whether abetted in it by anybody is uncertain.

First, the Devil can perform supernatural acts without needing human consent or cooperation; however, people cannot do them without the Devil's help (which must be accepted). If we accept that, it follows that the Devil is always the one doing it, but whether anyone helps him is uncertain.

Secondly, Will it be sufficient for the Devil himself to say such a man or woman set him a work to torment such a person by looking upon him? Is the Devil a competent witness in such a case?

Secondly, is it enough for the Devil himself to claim that a specific man or woman made him torment someone just by looking at them? Is the Devil a reliable witness in such a situation?

Thirdly, Or are those that are tormented by him legal witnesses to say that the Devil doth it by the procurement of such a person, whenas they know nothing about it but what comes to them from the Devil (that torments them)?

Thirdly, are those who are tormented by him legitimate witnesses to claim that the Devil is acting through someone else, when they only know what they hear from the Devil (who torments them)?

Fourthly, May we believe the witches that do accuse any one because they say so (can the fruit be better than the tree)? If the root of all their knowledge be the Devil, what must their testimony be?

Fourthly, can we trust the witches who accuse anyone just because they say so (can the fruit be better than the tree)? If the source of all their knowledge is the Devil, what does that say about their testimony?

Fifthly, Their testimony may be legal against themselves, because they know what themselves do, but cannot know what another doth but by information from the Devil: I mean in such cases when the person accused do deny it, and his conversation is blameless (Prov. xviii. 5; Prov. xix. 5).

Fifthly, their testimony may be used against themselves legally because they know their own actions, but they can't truly know what someone else is doing unless they get that information from the Devil. I mean in instances when the accused person denies it, and their behavior is above reproach (Prov. xviii. 5; Prov. xix. 5).

First, It is directly contrary to the use of reason, the law of nature, and principles of humanity, to deny it, and plead innocent, when accused of witchcraft, and yet, at the same time, to be acting witchcraft in the sight of all men, when they know their lives lie at stake by doing it. Self-interest teaches every one better.

First, it goes against reason, the law of nature, and basic human principles to deny witchcraft and claim innocence while simultaneously practicing it in front of everyone, especially when they know their lives are on the line. Self-interest teaches everyone better.

Secondly, It is contrary to the Devil's nature, or common practice, to accuse witches. They are a considerable part of his kingdom, which would fall, if divided against itself (Matt. xii. 26); except we think he that spake the words understood not what he said (which were blasphemy to think); or that those common principles or maxims are now changed; or that the Devil have changed his nature, and is now become a reformer to purge out witches out of the world, out of the country, and out of the churches; and is to be believed, though a liar and a murtherer from the beginning, and also though his business is going about continually, seeking whom he may destroy (1 Pet. v. 8); and his peculiar subject of his accusation are the brethren: called the accuser of the brethren.

Secondly, it's not in the Devil's nature, or usual behavior, to accuse witches. They make up a significant part of his kingdom, which would collapse if it turned against itself (Matt. xii. 26); unless we think that he who said those words didn't really mean what he said (which would be blasphemous to believe); or that those common principles or rules have now changed; or that the Devil has changed his nature and has now become a reformer, trying to eliminate witches from the world, the country, and the churches; and that he should be trusted, even though he's a liar and a murderer from the beginning, and even though he's constantly going around trying to find whom he can destroy (1 Pet. v. 8); and his main focus of accusation is the brethren: he's called the accuser of the brethren.

Objection.—God do sometimes bring things to light by his providence in a way extraordinary.

Objection.—God sometimes reveals things through His providence in unusual ways.

Answer.—It is granted God have so done, and brought hidden things to light, which, upon examination, have been proved or confessed, and so the way is clear for their execution; but what is that to this case, where the Devil is accuser and witness?

Answer.—It's acknowledged that God has done this, revealing hidden things that, when examined, have been proven or confessed, thus clearing the way for their execution; but what does that have to do with this situation, where the Devil is both the accuser and the witness?

IV.

EXTRACTS FROM MR. PARRIS'S CHURCH RECORDS.

[The following passages are taken from the records of the Salem Village Church, as specimens of Mr. Parris's style of narrative in that interesting document, and as shedding some light upon the subject of these volumes:—]

[The following passages are taken from the records of the Salem Village Church, showcasing Mr. Parris's narrative style in that interesting document and providing some insight into the subject of these volumes:]

Sab: 4 Nov. [1694].—After sermon in the afternoon, it was propounded to the brethren, whether the church ought not to inquire again of our dissenting brethren after the reason of their dissent. Nothing appearing from any against it, it was put to vote, and carried in the affirmative (by all, as far as I know, except one brother, Josh: Rea), that Brother Jno. Tarbell should, the next Lord's Day, appear and give in his reasons in public; the contrary being propounded, if any had aught to object against it. But no dissent was manifested; and so Brother Nathaniel Putnam and Deacon Ingersoll were desired to give this message from the church to the said Brother Tarbell.

Sab: Nov 4, 1694.—After the afternoon sermon, we discussed whether the church should ask our dissenting members again about the reasons for their dissent. Since no one objected, we voted on it, and it was passed in favor (as far as I know, everyone agreed except one brother, Josh: Rea) that Brother Jno. Tarbell should come next Sunday to share his reasons publicly; alternatives were suggested if anyone wanted to raise objections. However, no opposition was expressed, so Brother Nathaniel Putnam and Deacon Ingersoll were asked to deliver this message from the church to Brother Tarbell.

Sab: 11 Nov.—Before the evening blessing was pronounced, Brother Tarbell was openly called again and again; but, he not appearing, application was made to the abovesaid church's messengers for his answer: whereupon said Brother Putnam reported that the said Brother Tarbell told him he did not know how to come to us on a Lord's Day, but desired rather that he might make his appearance some week-day. Whereupon the congregation was dismissed with the blessing: and the church stayed, and, by a full vote, renewed their call of said Brother Tarbell to appear the next Lord's Day for the ends abovesaid; and Deacon Putnam and Brother Jonathan Putnam were desired to be its messengers to the said dissenting brother.

Sab: Nov. 11.—Before the evening blessing was given, Brother Tarbell was called out repeatedly; however, he did not show up. So, the church's messengers were asked to get his response. Brother Putnam then reported that Brother Tarbell said he didn’t know how to come to us on a Sunday, but he would prefer to appear on a weekday instead. The congregation was then dismissed with a blessing, and the church members stayed and, with a unanimous vote, renewed their invitation for Brother Tarbell to join us the following Sunday for the stated purposes. Deacon Putnam and Brother Jonathan Putnam were asked to be the messengers to the dissenting brother.

Sab: 18 Nov.—The said brother came in the afternoon; and, after sermon, he was asked the reasons for his withdrawing: whereupon he produced a paper, which he was urged to deliver to the pastor to communicate to the church; but he refused it, asking who was the church's mouth. To which, when he was answered, "The pastor," he replied, Not in this case, because his offence was with him. The pastor demanded whether he had offence against any of the church besides the pastor. He answered, "No." So at length we suffered a non-member, Mr. Jos: Hutchinson, to read it. After[ii.546] which the pastor read openly before the whole congregation his overtures for peace and reconciliation. After which said Tarbell, seemingly (at least) much affected, said, that, if half so much had been said formerly, it had never come to this. But he added that others also were dissatisfied besides himself: and therefore he desired opportunity that they might come also, which was immediately granted; viz., the 26 instant, at two o'clock.

Sab: Nov. 18—The brother came in the afternoon; and after the sermon, he was asked why he had withdrawn. He then produced a paper that he was urged to give to the pastor to share with the church, but he refused, asking who represented the church. When he was told, "The pastor," he replied, “Not in this case, because my issue is with him.” The pastor asked if he had a problem with anyone else in the church besides him. He answered, “No.” So in the end, we allowed a non-member, Mr. Jos: Hutchinson, to read it. After[ii.546] that, the pastor read out loud to the whole congregation his proposals for peace and reconciliation. Following that, Tarbell, seemingly quite moved, said that if half as much had been said before, it wouldn’t have come to this. But he added that others were also unhappy besides himself and asked for a chance for them to come forward as well, which was immediately granted for the 26th at two o'clock.

26 Nov.—At the public meeting above appointed at the meeting-house, after the pastor had first sought the grace of God with us in prayer, he then summed up to the church and congregation (among which were several strangers) the occasion of our present assembling, as is hinted the last meeting. Then seeing, together with Brother Tarbell, two more of our dissenting brethren, viz., Sam: Nurse, and Thomas Wilkins (who had, to suit their designs, placed themselves in a seat conveniently together), the church immediately, to save further sending for them, voted that said Brother Wilkins and Brother Nurse should now, together with Brother Tarbell, give in their reasons of withdrawing from the church. Then the pastor applied himself to all these three dissenters, pressing the church's desire upon them. So they produced a paper, which they much opposed the coming into the pastor's hands, and his reading of it; but at length they yielded to it. Whilst the paper was reading, Brother Nurse looked upon another (which he said was the original): and, after it was read throughout, he said it was the same with what he had. Their paper was as followeth:—

26 Nov.—At the public meeting appointed at the meeting-house, after the pastor first sought God's grace with us in prayer, he summarized for the church and congregation (which included several strangers) the reason for our gathering, as mentioned in the last meeting. Then, noticing, along with Brother Tarbell, two more of our dissenting members, Sam Nurse and Thomas Wilkins (who had conveniently sat together for their purposes), the church decided, to avoid further delays, that Brothers Wilkins and Nurse should now, along with Brother Tarbell, explain their reasons for leaving the church. The pastor then addressed all three dissenters, emphasizing the church's wish to hear from them. They provided a paper, which they initially resisted handing over to the pastor and having it read, but eventually they relented. While the paper was being read, Brother Nurse looked at another document (which he claimed was the original), and after it was read in full, he said it was the same as what he had. Their paper was as follows:—

"The reasons why we withdraw from communion with the church of Salem Village, both as to hearing the word preached, and from partaking with them at the Lord's Table, are as followeth:—

"The reasons why we are stepping back from fellowship with the church of Salem Village, both in terms of listening to the preaching and in joining them at the Lord's Table, are as follows:—

"1. Why we attend not on public prayer and preaching the word, these are, (1.) The distracting and disturbing tumults and noises made by the persons under diabolical power and delusions, preventing sometimes our hearing and understanding and profiting of the word preached; we having, after many trials and experiences, found no redress in this case, accounted ourselves under a necessity to go where we might hear the word in quiet. (2.) The apprehensions of danger of ourselves being accused as the Devil's instruments to molest and afflict the persons complaining, we seeing those whom we had reason to esteem better than ourselves thus accused, blemished, and of their lives bereaved, foreseeing this evil, thought it our prudence to withdraw. (3.) We found so frequent and positive preaching up some principles and practices by Mr. Parris, referring to the dark and dismal mysteries of iniquity working amongst us, as was not profitable, but offensive. (4.) Neither could we, in conscience, join with Mr. Parris in many of the requests which he made in prayer, referring to the trouble then among us and upon us; therefore thought it our most safe and peaceable way to withdraw.

"1. The reasons we don't participate in public prayer and the preaching of the word are: (1.) The distracting and disturbing commotion and noise caused by people under demonic influence and delusions, which sometimes prevents us from hearing, understanding, and benefiting from the message being preached. After many trials and experiences, we've found no relief from this situation, so we felt it necessary to go somewhere we could hear the word in peace. (2.) We feared being accused as instruments of the Devil, troubling and harming those who were complaining. We saw that even those we regarded as better than ourselves were facing such accusations, suffering harm, and losing their livelihoods. Anticipating this misfortune, we thought it wise to withdraw. (3.) We noticed frequent and strong preaching by Mr. Parris on certain principles and practices that referred to the dark and troubling mysteries of iniquity among us, which was not helpful but rather offensive. (4.) Moreover, we couldn't, in good conscience, agree with many of the requests he made in prayer about the issues we were facing; therefore, we believed it was safest and most peaceful to step away."

"2. The reasons why we hold not communion with them at the Lord's[ii.547] Table are, first, we esteem ourselves justly aggrieved and offended with the officer who doth administer, for the reasons following: (1.) From his declared and published principles, referring to our molestation from the invisible world, differing from the opinion of the generality of the Orthodox ministers of the whole country. (2.) His easy and strong faith and belief of the affirmations and accusations made by those they call the afflicted. (3.) His laying aside that grace which, above all, we are required to put on; namely, charity toward his neighbors, and especially towards those of his church, when there is no apparent reason for the contrary. (4.) His approving and practising unwarrantable and ungrounded methods for discovering what he was desirous to know referring to the bewitched or possessed persons, as in bringing some to others, and by and from them pretending to inform himself and others who were the Devil's instruments to afflict the sick and pained. (5.) His unsafe and unaccountable oath, given by him against sundry of the accused. (6.) His not rendering to the world so fair, if true, an account of what he wrote on examination of the afflicted. (7.) Sundry unsafe, if sound, points of doctrine delivered in his preaching, which we esteem not warrantable, if Christian. (8.) His persisting in these principles, and justifying his practices, not rendering any satisfaction to us when regularly desired, but rather further offending and dissatisfying ourselves.

"2. The reasons we do not take communion with them at the Lord's[ii.547] Table are, first, we believe we have been justly wronged and offended by the administering officer, for the following reasons: (1.) His stated and published beliefs about our troubles from the unseen world, which differ from the views of most Orthodox ministers in the country. (2.) His strong faith in the claims and accusations made by those referred to as the afflicted. (3.) His neglect of the grace that we are especially required to embody: charity towards his neighbors, particularly those in his church, when there is no clear reason to do otherwise. (4.) His approval and use of unfounded and unjustifiable methods to discover what he wanted to know about those believed to be bewitched or possessed, such as consulting others in order to identify who might be afflicting the sick and suffering. (5.) His questionable and unjustifiable oath against several of the accused individuals. (6.) His failure to provide the world with a fair account of what he wrote regarding the examination of the afflicted, assuming it is true. (7.) Several dubious doctrinal points he shared in his sermons, which we believe are not justified if they are truly Christian. (8.) His continued adherence to these beliefs and defense of his practices, without offering us any satisfaction when we regularly requested it, instead further offending and dissatisfying us."

"John Tarbell.
Tho: Wilkins.
Sam: Nurse."

"John Tarbell.
Tho: Wilkins.
Sam: Nurse."

When the pastor had read these charges, he asked the dissenters above mentioned whether they were offended with none in the church besides himself. They replied, that they articled against none else. Then the officer asked them if they withdrew from communion upon account of none in the church besides himself. They answered, that they withdrew only upon my account. Then I read them my "Meditations for Peace," mentioned 18 instant; viz.:—

When the pastor finished reading the charges, he asked the dissenters mentioned earlier if they were upset with anyone in the church besides him. They replied that they had issues with no one else. Then the officer asked if they stopped taking part in communion because of anyone else in the church besides him. They answered that they withdrew solely because of him. Then I read them my "Meditations for Peace," mentioned 18 instant; viz.:—

"Forasmuch as it is the undoubted duty of all Christians to pursue peace (Ps. xxxiv. 14), even unto a reaching of it, if it be possible (Rom. xii. 18, 19); and whereas, through the righteous, sovereign, and awful Providence of God, the Grand Enemy to all Christian peace has, of late, been most tremendously let loose in divers places hereabouts, and more especially amongst our sinful selves, not only to interrupt that partial peace which we did sometimes enjoy, but also, through his wiles and temptations and our weaknesses and corruptions, to make wider breaches, and raise more bitter animosities between too many of us, in which dark and difficult dispensation we have been all, or most of us, of one mind for a time, and afterwards of differing apprehensions, and, at last, are but in the dark,—upon serious thoughts of all, and after many prayers, I have been moved to present to you (my beloved flock) the following particulars, in way of contribution[ii.548] towards a regaining of Christian concord (if so be we are not altogether unappeasable, irreconcilable, and so destitute of the good spirit which is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to be entreated, James iii. 17); viz., (1.) In that the Lord ordered the late horrid calamity (which afterwards, plague-like, spread in many other places) to break out first in my family, I cannot but look upon as a very sore rebuke, and humbling providence, both to myself and mine, and desire so we may improve it. (2.) In that also in my family were some of both parties, viz., accusers and accused, I look also upon as an aggravation of the rebuke, as an addition of wormwood to the gall. (3.) In that means were used in my family (though totally unknown to me or mine, except servants, till afterwards) to raise spirits and create apparitions in no better than a diabolical way, I do look upon as a further rebuke of Divine Providence. And by all, I do humbly own this day, before the Lord and his people, that God has been righteously spitting in my face (Num. xii. 14). And I desire to lie low under all this reproach, and to lay my hand upon my mouth. (4.) As to the management of those mysteries, as far as concerns myself, I am very desirous (upon farther light) to own any errors I have therein fallen into, and can come to a discerning of. In the mean while, I do acknowledge, upon after-considerations, that, were the same troubles again, (which the Lord, of his rich mercy, for ever prevent), I should not agree with my former apprehensions in all points; as, for instance, (1.) I question not but God sometimes suffers the Devil (as of late) to afflict in the shape of not only innocent but pious persons, or so delude the senses of the afflicted that they strongly conceit their hurt is from such persons, when, indeed, it is not. (2.) The improving of one afflicted to inquire by, who afflicts the others, I fear may be, and has been, unlawfully used, to Satan's great advantage. (3.) As to my writing, it was put upon me by authority; and therein I have been very careful to avoid the wronging of any (a). (4). As to my oath, I never meant it, nor do I know how it can be otherwise construed, than as vulgarly and every one understood; yea, and upon inquiry, it may be found so worded also. (5.) As to any passage in preaching or prayer, in that sore hour of distress and darkness, I always intended but due justice on each hand, and that not according to man, but God (who knows all things most perfectly), however, through weakness or sore exercise, I might sometimes, yea, and possibly sundry times, unadvisedly expressed myself. (6.) As to several that have confessed against themselves, they being wholly strangers to me, but yet of good account with better men than myself, to whom also they are well known, I do not pass so much as a secret condemnation upon them; but rather, seeing God has so amazingly lengthened out Satan's chain in this most formidable outrage, I much more incline to side with the opinion of those that have grounds to hope better of them. (7.) As to all that have unduly suffered in these matters (either in their persons or relations), through the clouds of human weakness, and Satan's wiles and sophistry, I do truly sympathize with them; taking it for granted that such as drew themselves clear of this great trans[ii.549]gression, or that have sufficient grounds so to look upon their dear friends, have hereby been under those sore trials and temptations, that not an ordinary measure of true grace would be sufficient to prevent a bewraying of remaining corruption. (8.) I am very much in the mind, and abundantly persuaded, that God (for holy ends, though for what in particular is best known to himself) has suffered the evil angels to delude us on both hands, but how far on the one side or the other is much above me to say. And, if we cannot reconcile till we come to a full discerning of these things, I fear we shall never come to agreement, or, at soonest, not in this world. Therefore (9), in fine, The matter being so dark and perplexed as that there is no present appearance that all God's servants should be altogether of one mind, in all circumstances touching the same, I do most heartily, fervently, and humbly beseech pardon of the merciful God, through the blood of Christ, of all my mistakes and trespasses in so weighty a matter; and also all your forgiveness of every offence in this and other affairs, wherein you see or conceive I have erred and offended; professing, in the presence of the Almighty God, that what I have done has been, as for substance, as I apprehended was duty,—however through weakness, ignorance, &c., I may have been mistaken; I also, through grace, promising each of you the like of me. And so again, I beg, entreat, and beseech you, that Satan, the devil, the roaring lion, the old dragon, the enemy of all righteousness, may no longer be served by us, by our envy and strifes, where every evil work prevails whilst these bear sway (Isa. iii. 14-16); but that all, from this day forward, may be covered with the mantle of love, and we may on all hands forgive each other heartily, sincerely, and thoroughly, as we do hope and pray that God, for Christ's sake, would forgive each of ourselves (Matt. xviii. 21 ad finem; Col. iii. 12, 13). Put on, therefore, as the elect of God, holy and beloved, bowels of mercies, kindness, humbleness of mind, meekness, long-suffering, forbearing one another, and forgiving one another. If any man have a quarrel against any, even as Christ forgave you, so also do ye (Eph. iv. 31, 32). Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and evil-speaking be put away from you, with all malice; and be ye kind one to another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, even as God, for Christ's sake, hath forgiven you. Amen, amen.

As it is the clear duty of all Christians to seek peace (Ps. 34:14), even striving for it, if possible (Rom. 12:18, 19); and considering that, through the just, sovereign, and terrifying Providence of God, the Grand Enemy of all Christian peace has recently caused great turmoil in various places nearby, especially among us, not only disrupting the partial peace we once enjoyed but also using his tricks and temptations, along with our weaknesses and corruptions, to create deeper divisions and foster more bitter conflicts between many of us. In this dark and challenging situation, we have mostly shared a common perspective for a time, only to later have differing views, and ultimately find ourselves in confusion. After much thought and numerous prayers, I feel compelled to share with you (my beloved community) the following points to help restore Christian harmony (if we are not too far gone, unyielding, and completely devoid of that good spirit which is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to approach, James 3:17); specifically, (1.) The fact that the recent terrible calamity (which later spread like a plague to many other areas) started in my own family is a severe rebuke and humbling experience, both for myself and my loved ones, and I hope we can learn from it. (2.) The presence of both accusers and accused within my family adds to this rebuke, like pouring bitterness onto an already painful wound. (3.) The means employed in my family (completely unknown to me or my family, except for the servants, until later) to summon spirits and conjure apparitions in a way that can only be described as diabolical further highlights the rebuke from Divine Providence. I humbly acknowledge today, before the Lord and you, that God has justly scorned me (Num. 12:14). I wish to remain humble under this reproach and keep silent. (4.) Regarding my handling of these matters, I am eager to acknowledge any errors I may have made, provided I gain better insight. In the meantime, I recognize that if similar troubles were to arise again (which, by God's grace, I hope they never will), I would not agree with everything I previously thought; for example, (1.) I have no doubt that God sometimes allows the Devil (as recently seen) to afflict not only innocent but also pious individuals, or to so deceive the afflicted that they firmly believe their harm comes from such individuals, when it does not. (2.) The use of an afflicted person to investigate who is causing distress to others concerns me, and has been exploited to the advantage of Satan. (3.) My writing was done under authority, and I have been very careful to avoid misrepresenting anyone. (4) I never intended my oath to be understood in any way but as everyone would normally interpret it; indeed, an inquiry could confirm that it was worded that way. (5.) Any statements I made in preaching or prayer during that painful time of distress and confusion were intended to uphold justice on both sides, not according to human standards, but God’s (who knows all perfectly). However, through weakness or distress, I may have, at times, hastily expressed myself. (6.) For those who have confessed against themselves, being strangers to me but respected by better individuals than myself, I do not judge them in secrecy; on the contrary, considering how remarkably God has extended Satan’s reach in this formidable situation, I lean toward those who have hope for their better nature. (7.) As for all those who have wrongfully suffered in this matter (either in themselves or their relationships), due to human frailty and Satan’s schemes, I truly sympathize with them; I take it as given that those who have distanced themselves from this significant wrongdoing, or who have valid grounds to consider their loved ones innocent, have faced severe trials and temptations, where even a notable measure of true grace might not be enough to prevent the revelation of remaining flaws. (8.) I firmly believe, and am greatly convinced, that God (for holy purposes, though the specifics are best known to Him) has allowed evil spirits to deceive us on both sides, but how far on either side is beyond my understanding. If we cannot find reconciliation until we fully comprehend these matters, I fear we may never reach agreement, or at least not in this life. Therefore, (9) ultimately, the situation is so dark and complicated that there seems to be no immediate chance for all God’s servants to fully align in all aspects concerning this; I earnestly, fervently, and humbly seek forgiveness from the merciful God, through Christ’s blood, for all my mistakes and transgressions in this crucial issue; and I also plead for your forgiveness for any offense you perceive I’ve committed in this and other matters where I may have erred; professing, in the presence of the Almighty God, that what I have done has been, as far as I understand, my duty—yet, through weakness, ignorance, etc., I may have been wrong; I also, by grace, promise each of you the same from myself. Thus, I again implore and beseech you, that Satan, the devil, the roaring lion, the old dragon, the enemy of all righteousness, may no longer be empowered through our envy and conflicts, where every evil action prevails as long as he holds sway (Isa. 3:14-16); but that from this day forward, we may all be clothed in love, and sincerely and thoroughly forgive one another, just as we hope and pray that God, for Christ’s sake, would forgive each of us (Matt. 18:21-35; Col. 3:12, 13). Therefore, put on, as the chosen of God, holy and beloved, heartfelt compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, patience, bearing with one another, and forgiving one another. If anyone has a grievance against another, just as Christ forgave you, so must you also forgive (Eph. 4:31, 32). Let all bitterness, rage, anger, brawling, and slander be removed from you, along with all malice; and be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, just as God, for Christ’s sake, has forgiven you. Amen, amen.

Sam: Parris.

Sam: Parris.

"26 Nov., 1694."

"Nov 26, 1694."

[In the record, off against (a) as above, the following is in Mr. Parris's writing:]

[In the record, off against (a) as above, the following is in Mr. Parris's writing:]

(a) Added, by the desire of the council, this following paragraph; viz., Nevertheless, I fear, that, in and through the throng of the many things written by me, in the late confusions, there has not been a due exactness always used; and, as I now see the inconveniency of my writing so much on those difficult occasions, so I would lament every error of such writings.—Apr. 3, 1695. Idem. S.P.

(a) Added, at the request of the council, the following paragraph; namely, I am afraid that amidst the chaos of all that I have written during the recent turmoil, I haven't always been precise. Now that I recognize the issues stemming from my extensive writing during those challenging times, I regret every mistake in those writings. —Apr. 3, 1695. Idem. S.P.

[The above passage (a) is inserted in a marginal space left for it on a page containing the record of a meeting, Nov. 26, 1694, while it is dated April 3, 1695, and[ii.550] purports to be added "by the desire of the council," which met at the last-named date. There are other indications, that the record of Mr. Parris's controversy with the dissatisfied brethren, consequent upon the proceedings in 1692, was made originally on separate sheets of paper, and then compiled, and inscribed in the church-book, as it there appears. There are several other entries, which refer to dates ahead. He probably made out his record near the close of the struggle which resulted in his dismission, and left it, on the pages of the book, as his history of the case. After giving his "Meditations for Peace," the record goes on:—]

[The above passage (a) is inserted in a marginal space left for it on a page containing the record of a meeting, Nov. 26, 1694, while it is dated April 3, 1695, and[ii.550] claims to be added "by the desire of the council," which met on the last-named date. There are other indications that the record of Mr. Parris's controversy with the dissatisfied members, stemming from the events of 1692, was originally made on separate sheets of paper and then compiled and written in the church book, as it appears there. There are several other entries that refer to future dates. He likely created his record near the end of the struggle that led to his dismissal and left it in the book as his account of the case. After giving his "Meditations for Peace," the record continues:—]

After I had read these overtures abovesaid, I desired the brethren to declare themselves whether they remained still dissatisfied. Brother Tarbell answered, that they desired to consider of it, and to have a copy of what I had read. I replied, that then they must subscribe their reasons (above mentioned), for as yet they were anonymous: so at length, with no little difficulty, I purchased the subscription of their charges by my abovesaid overtures, which I gave, subscribed with my name, to them, to consider of; and so this meeting broke up. Note that, during this agitation with our dissenting brethren, they entertained frequent whisperings with comers and goers to them and from them; particularly Dan: Andrews, and Tho: Preston from Mr. Israel Porter, and Jos: Hutchinson, &c.

After I read those earlier proposals, I asked the group if they were still unhappy. Brother Tarbell replied that they wanted to think it over and have a copy of what I had read. I said that they would need to write down their reasons (as mentioned above), since they were currently anonymous. Eventually, after some difficulty, I got them to agree to my proposals, which I signed with my name and gave to them to consider. Then the meeting ended. It's worth noting that, during this discussion with our dissenting brothers, they often whispered to people coming and going, especially Dan Andrews, Tho Preston from Mr. Israel Porter, and Jos Hutchinson, etc.

Nov. 30, 1694.—Brother Nurse and Brother Tarbell (bringing with them Joseph Putnam and Tho: Preston) towards night came to my house, where they found the two deacons and several other brethren; viz., Tho: Putnam, Jno. Putnam, Jr., Benj. Wilkins, and Ezek: Cheever, besides Lieutenant Jno. Walcot. And Brother Tarbell said they came to answer my paper, which they had now considered of, and their answer was this; viz., that they remained dissatisfied, and desired that the church would call a council, according to the advice we had lately from ministers.

Nov. 30, 1694.—Brother Nurse and Brother Tarbell (along with Joseph Putnam and Tho: Preston) came to my house in the evening, where they found the two deacons and several other members; namely, Tho: Putnam, Jno. Putnam, Jr., Benj. Wilkins, and Ezek: Cheever, in addition to Lieutenant Jno. Walcot. Brother Tarbell stated that they had come to respond to my letter, which they had now reviewed, and their response was this; namely, that they were still unsatisfied and requested that the church call a council, as we had recently discussed with the ministers.

[An account has been given, p. 493, of the attempts of the "dissatisfied brethren" to procure a mutual council to decide the controversy between them and Mr. Parris. On the 14th of June, 1694, a letter was addressed to him, advising him to agree to the call of such a council, signed by John Higginson, of the First Church in Salem; James Allen, of the First Church in Boston; John Hale, of the church in Beverly; Samuel Willard, of the Old South Church in Boston; Samuel Cheever, of the church in Marblehead; and Joseph Gerrish, of the church in Wenham. Nicholas Noyes joined in the advice, "with this proviso, that he be not chosen one of the council." Mr. Parris contrived to avoid following the advice. On the 10th of September, Messrs. Higginson, Allen, Willard, Cheever, and Gerrish again, in earnest and quite peremptory terms, renewed their advice in another letter to Mr. Parris. No longer venturing to resist their authority, he yielded, and consented to a mutual council, upon certain terms, one of which was, that neither of the churches whose ministers had thus forced him to the measure should be of the council. The following passages give the conclusion of the matter, as related by Mr. Parris in his record-book:—]

[An account has been given, p. 493, of the attempts of the "dissatisfied brethren" to organize a mutual council to resolve the conflict between them and Mr. Parris. On June 14, 1694, a letter was sent to him, advising him to agree to the request for such a council, signed by John Higginson from the First Church in Salem; James Allen from the First Church in Boston; John Hale from the church in Beverly; Samuel Willard from the Old South Church in Boston; Samuel Cheever from the church in Marblehead; and Joseph Gerrish from the church in Wenham. Nicholas Noyes also joined in the advice, "with this condition, that he not be chosen as one of the council members." Mr. Parris managed to avoid following the advice. On September 10, Messrs. Higginson, Allen, Willard, Cheever, and Gerrish again, in earnest and quite firm terms, reiterated their advice in another letter to Mr. Parris. No longer willing to resist their authority, he agreed to a mutual council, under certain conditions, one of which was that neither of the churches whose ministers had pressured him to this decision would be part of the council. The following passages provide the conclusion of the matter, as reported by Mr. Parris in his record-book:—]

Feb. 12 [1695].—The church met again, as last agreed upon; and, after a while, our dissenting brethren, Tho: Wilkins, Sam: Nurse, and Jno. Tarbell, came also. After our constant way of begging the presence of God with us,[ii.551] we desired our dissenting brethren to acquaint us whether they would accept of our last proposals, which they desired to this day to consider of. They answered, that they were willing to drop the six churches from whose elders we had had the advice abovesaid, dated 14 June last; but they were not free to exclude Ipswich. This they stuck unto long, and then desired that they might withdraw a little to confer among themselves about it, which was granted. But they quickly returned, as resolved for Ipswich as before. We desired them to nominate the three churches they would have sent to: and, after much debate, they did; viz., Rowley, Salisbury, and Ipswich. Whereupon we voted, by a full consent, Rowley and Salisbury churches for a part of the council, and desired them to nominate a third church. But still they insisted on Ipswich, which we told them they were openly informed, the last meeting, that we had excepted against. Then they were told that we would immediately choose three other churches to join with the two before nominated and voted, if they saw not good to nominate any more; or else we would choose two other churches to join with the aforesaid two, if they pleased. They answered, they would be willing to that, if Ipswich might be one of them. Then it was asked them, if a dismission to some other Orthodox church, where they might better please themselves, would content them. Brother Tarbell answered, "Ay, if we could find a way to remove our livings too." Then it was propounded, whether we could not unite amongst ourselves. The particular answer hereunto I remember not; but (I think) such hints were given by them as if it were impossible. Thus much time being gone, it being well towards sunset, and we concluding that it was necessary that we should do something ourselves, if they would not (as the elders had heretofore desired) accept of our joining with them, we dismissed them; and, by a general agreement amongst ourselves, read and voted letters to the churches at North Boston, Weymouth, Maiden, and Rowley, for their help in a council.

Feb. 12 [1695].—The church gathered again, as we had agreed; and after a while, our dissenting friends, Tho: Wilkins, Sam: Nurse, and Jno. Tarbell, joined us. After our usual practice of inviting God’s presence, [ii.551] we asked our dissenting friends if they would accept our last proposals, which they had requested until today to consider. They replied that they were willing to drop the six churches whose elders had given us the previous advice, dated June 14, but they were not willing to exclude Ipswich. They insisted on this point for a long time, then asked to step out for a moment to discuss it among themselves, which we allowed. But they quickly returned, just as determined about Ipswich as before. We asked them to suggest the three churches they wanted sent to, and after much discussion, they named Rowley, Salisbury, and Ipswich. Then we voted unanimously to include Rowley and Salisbury churches as part of the council and asked them to nominate a third church. But they continued to push for Ipswich, which we reminded them had been explicitly rejected at the last meeting. We then informed them that we would immediately choose three other churches to join the two already chosen if they did not propose any more; or we could choose two more churches to join the two previously mentioned, if they preferred. They responded that they would agree to that, as long as Ipswich could be one of them. We then asked them if a dismission to another Orthodox church, where they might feel more comfortable, would satisfy them. Brother Tarbell replied, "Yes, if we could find a way to move our livelihoods too." Then it was suggested whether we could unite among ourselves. I don't recall the specific responses to this, but I think they implied that it was impossible. With this discussion consuming a lot of time and it nearing sunset, we concluded that we needed to take action ourselves if they would not accept our proposal to join them, as the elders had previously requested, so we dismissed them. By general agreement among ourselves, we drafted and voted on letters to the churches at North Boston, Weymouth, Maiden, and Rowley for their assistance in forming a council.

[Mr. Parris's plan of finding refuge in an ex-parte council was utterly frustrated. On the 1st of March, the "reverend elders in the Bay accounted it advisable," as he expresses it in his records, that the First Church and the Old South Church in Boston should be added to the council. They wrote to him to that effect, and he had to comply. This brought James Allen and Samuel Willard into the council, and determined the character of the result, which, coming from a tribunal called by him to adjudicate the case, and hearing only such evidence as he laid before it, so far as it bore against him, was decisive and fatal. It was as follows:—]

[Mr. Parris's plan to find safety in an ex-parte council completely fell apart. On March 1st, the "reverend elders in the Bay thought it was best," as he notes in his records, that the First Church and the Old South Church in Boston should be included in the council. They sent him a letter to that effect, and he had no choice but to agree. This brought James Allen and Samuel Willard into the council and determined the outcome, which, coming from a tribunal he summoned to handle the case and only hearing the evidence he presented that supported his position, was final and disastrous. It was as follows:—]

The elders and messengers of the churches—met in council at Salem Village, April 3, 1695, to consider and determine what is to be done for the composure of the present unhappy differences in that place,—after solemn invocation of God in Christ for his direction, do unanimously declare and advise as followeth:—

The leaders and representatives of the churches gathered in a council at Salem Village on April 3, 1695, to discuss and decide how to resolve the current unfortunate disputes in the area. After a serious prayer for God's guidance through Christ, they unanimously declare and recommend the following:—

I. We judge that, albeit in the late and the dark time of the confusions, wherein Satan had obtained a more than ordinary liberty to be sifting of this plantation, there were sundry unwarrantable and uncomfortable steps taken[ii.552] by Mr. Samuel Parris, the pastor of the church in Salem Village, then under the hurrying distractions of amazing afflictions; yet the said Mr. Parris, by the good hand of God brought unto a better sense of things, hath so fully expressed it, that a Christian charity may and should receive satisfaction therewith.

I. We believe that, although it was a chaotic and dark time, when Satan was given an unusual amount of freedom to disrupt this community, there were several unjustifiable and troubling actions taken[ii.552] by Mr. Samuel Parris, the pastor of the church in Salem Village, who was then overwhelmed by incredible challenges. However, Mr. Parris, through God's guidance, has come to a better understanding of the situation and has expressed it in such a way that a Christian compassion can and should find satisfaction in it.

II. Inasmuch as divers Christian brethren in the church of Salem Village have been offended at Mr. Parris for his conduct in the time of the difficulties and calamities which have distressed them, we now advise them charitably to accept the satisfaction which he hath tendered in his Christian acknowledgments of the errors therein committed; yea, to endeavor, as far as 'tis possible, the fullest reconciliation of their minds unto communion with him, in the whole exercise of his ministry, and with the rest of the church (Matt. vi. 12-14; Luke xvii. 3; James v. 16).

II. Since some Christian brothers in the church of Salem Village have been upset with Mr. Parris for his actions during the challenges and hardships they faced, we now kindly encourage them to accept the apologies he has made in acknowledgment of his mistakes; yes, to strive, as much as possible, for complete reconciliation with him in all aspects of his ministry and with the rest of the church (Matt. vi. 12-14; Luke xvii. 3; James v. 16).

III. Considering the extreme trials and troubles which the dissatisfied brethren in the church of Salem Village have undergone in the day of sore temptation which hath been upon them, we cannot but advise the church to treat them with bowels of much compassion, instead of all more critical or rigorous proceedings against them, for the infirmities discovered by them in such an heart-breaking day. And if, after a patient waiting for it, the said brethren cannot so far overcome the uneasiness of their spirits, in the remembrance of the disasters that have happened, as to sit under his ministry, we advise the church, with all tenderness, to grant them a dismission unto any other society of the faithful whereunto they may desire to be dismissed (Gal. vi. 1, 2; Ps. ciii. 13, 14; Job xix. 21).

III. Considering the extreme trials and troubles that the unhappy members of the church in Salem Village have faced during this time of great temptation, we encourage the church to treat them with deep compassion, instead of taking any more critical or harsh actions against them for the weaknesses they've shown on such a heartbreaking day. And if, after patiently waiting, these members cannot overcome their discomfort about the painful events that have occurred to the point where they can attend his ministry, we advise the church, with all kindness, to allow them to transfer to any other group of believers they wish to join (Gal. vi. 1, 2; Ps. ciii. 13, 14; Job xix. 21).

IV. Mr. Parris having, as we understand, with much fidelity and integrity acquitted himself in the main course of his ministry since he hath been pastor to the church in Salem Village, about his first call whereunto, we look upon all contestations now to be both unreasonable and unseasonable; and our Lord having made him a blessing unto the souls of not a few, both old and young, in this place, we advise that he be accordingly respected, honored, and supported, with all the regards that are due to a painful minister of the gospel (1 Thess. v. 12, 13; 1 Tim. v. 17).

IV. Mr. Parris has, as we understand, performed his duties in his ministry with great faithfulness and integrity since he became the pastor of the church in Salem Village. Any disputes regarding his initial appointment now seem both unreasonable and untimely. Our Lord has made him a blessing to many souls, both young and old, in this community. Therefore, we recommend that he be treated with the respect, honor, and support that are due to a dedicated minister of the gospel (1 Thess. v. 12, 13; 1 Tim. v. 17).

V. Having observed that there is in Salem Village a spirit full of contentions and animosities, too sadly verifying the blemish which hath heretofore lain upon them, and that some complaints brought against Mr. Parris have been either causeless and groundless, or unduly aggravated, we do, in the name and fear of the Lord, solemnly warn them to consider, whether, if they continue to devour one another, it will not be bitterness in the latter end; and beware lest the Lord be provoked thereby utterly to deprive them of those which they should account their precious and pleasant things, and abandon them to all the desolations of a people that sin away the mercies of the gospel (James iii. 16; Gal. v. 15; 2 Sam. ii. 26; Isa. v. 4, 5, 6; Matt. xxi. 43).

V. Having seen that there is a spirit of conflict and resentment in Salem Village, sadly confirming the flaws that have affected them in the past, and that some complaints against Mr. Parris have been either baseless or exaggerated, we now, in the name and respect of the Lord, solemnly warn them to think about whether, if they keep tearing each other apart, it will lead to bitterness in the end; and we caution them not to provoke the Lord to the point where He completely deprives them of what they should cherish and enjoy, leaving them to face the devastation of a people who waste the blessings of the gospel (James iii. 16; Gal. v. 15; 2 Sam. ii. 26; Isa. v. 4, 5, 6; Matt. xxi. 43).

VI. If the distempers in Salem Village should be (which God forbid!) so incurable, that Mr. Parris, after all, find that he cannot, with any comfort[ii.553] and service, continue in his present station, his removal from thence will not expose him unto any hard character with us, nor, we hope, with the rest of the people of God among whom we live (Matt. x. 14; Acts xxii. 18).

VI. If the troubles in Salem Village become so serious that Mr. Parris finds he can no longer continue in his position with any sense of comfort and service, his departure will not damage his reputation with us, nor, we hope, with the rest of the people of God among whom we live (Matt. x. 14; Acts xxii. 18).

All which advice we follow with our prayers that the God of peace would bruise Satan under our feet. Now, the Lord of peace himself give you peace always by all means.

All the advice we follow with our prayers that the God of peace would crush Satan under our feet. Now, may the Lord of peace himself give you peace at all times and in every way.

Increase Mather, Moderator.

Increase Mather, Moderator.

*Joseph Bridgham. *Ephraim Hunt.
*Samuel Checkley. *Nathll Williams.
*William Torrey. Samuel Phillips.
*Joseph Boynton. James Allen.
*Richard Middlecot. Samuel Torrey.
*John Walley. Samuel Willard.
*Jer: Stupid. Edward Payson.
*Nehemiah Jewet. Cotton Mather.

[The names of the lay members of the Council are marked thus, *. They were persons of high standing in civil life. Samuel Checkley was not (as stated [Supplement, p. 494], through an inadvertence, of which, I trust, not many such instances can be found in these volumes) the Rev. Mr. Checkley, but his father, Col. Samuel Checkley, a citizen of Boston, of much prominence at the time.

[The names of the lay members of the Council are marked thus, *. They were individuals of high standing in civil life. Samuel Checkley was not (as stated [Supplement, p. 494], by mistake, which I hope is a rare occurrence in these volumes) the Rev. Mr. Checkley, but his father, Col. Samuel Checkley, a prominent citizen of Boston at that time.]

The foregoing document is skilfully drawn. While kindly in its tone towards Mr. Parris, it is, in reality, a strong condemnation of his course, especially in Article I., as also in the paragraph marked (a), (p. 549), "added by the desire of the Council" to his "Meditations for Peace." Article III. discountenances the proceedings of his church in its censure of "the dissatisfied brethren," and requires that they should be recognized and treated as members in good standing. The fifth article administers rebuke with an equal hand to both sides, while the sixth and last recommends the removal of Mr. Parris, if the alienation of his opponents should prove "incurable."

The document above is well-written. While it has a friendly tone towards Mr. Parris, it actually strongly criticizes his actions, particularly in Article I and in the paragraph marked (a), (p. 549), "added by the desire of the Council" to his "Meditations for Peace." Article III opposes the actions of his church regarding their criticism of "the dissatisfied brethren," stating that they should be acknowledged and treated as regular members. The fifth article offers criticism to both sides equally, while the sixth and final article suggests that Mr. Parris should be removed if the hostility of his opponents seems "incurable."

As an authoritative condemnation of the proceedings related in this work, pronounced at the time, it is a fitting final close of the presentation of this subject.]

As a strong condemnation of the events discussed in this work, stated at the time, it serves as an appropriate conclusion to the presentation of this topic.]

THE END.


FOOTNOTES

[A] The double negative, as often used, merely intensified the negation. See "Measure for Measure," act i. scene 1.

[A] The double negative, as commonly used, just made the negation stronger. See "Measure for Measure," act i. scene 1.

[B] In the innumerable depositions written by Thomas Putnam, he is not so careful to be correct, in his chirography and construction, as in his parish-records. But, if the reader is inclined to make the experiment, he will find, that, if the above document should be properly pointed and spelled, according to our fashion at the present day, it would read well, and is clearly and forcibly put together. Spelling, at that time, was phonetic, and it enables us to ascertain the then prevalent pronunciation of words. "Corsely," no doubt, shows how the word was then spoken. "Angury" was, with a large class of words now dissyllables, then a trisyllable. "Tould," "spaking," and many other words above, are spelled just as they were then pronounced. "Wicthcraft" is always, I believe, spelled this way by Thomas Putnam. He had not got rid of the old Anglo-Saxon sound of the word "witch," brought by his father from Buckinghamshire, sixty years before,—"wicca."

[B] In the many writings by Thomas Putnam, he doesn't pay as much attention to being correct in his handwriting and style as he does in his parish records. However, if the reader wants to give it a try, they'll find that if the document above were properly punctuated and spelled according to today's standards, it would read well and is clearly and effectively written. Spelling back then was phonetic, which helps us understand how words were pronounced at the time. "Corsely" certainly shows how the word was pronounced then. "Angury," which is now often a two-syllable word, was pronounced as three syllables back then. "Tould," "spaking," and many other words above are spelled exactly as they were pronounced at the time. "Wicthcraft" is always spelled this way by Thomas Putnam. He hadn’t moved away from the old Anglo-Saxon pronunciation of the word "witch," brought by his father from Buckinghamshire sixty years earlier—"wicca."

The condition of medical science and practice, at that period, is curiously illustrated in this paper. It is plain that the distemper of James Carr was purely in the realm of the sensibilities and fancy; and "doctor Crosbe" is not wholly to blame because his "visek" did not "work." A good smart nightmare, with a feeling that he had given a thorough basting to the spectre, in the form of a cat, of the supposed author of his woful and aggravated disappointment in love, was what he needed; and it cured him. "A posset of sack" was Falstaff's refuge, from the plight into which he had been led by "building upon a foolish woman's promise," when he emerged from the Thames and the "buck-basket." Many others, no doubt, in drowning sorrow and mortification, have found it "the sovereignest thing on earth." But, as administered by physicians of the Dr. Crosby school, with tobacco steeped in it, it must have been a "villanous compound."

The state of medical science and practice during that time is interestingly shown in this paper. It's clear that James Carr's illness was purely about his emotions and imagination; and "Doctor Crosbe" isn't entirely at fault for his treatment not working. What he really needed was a good, intense nightmare, where he felt he gave a good beating to the ghost, in the shape of a cat, of the person he felt so painfully let down by in love, and that would have cured him. “A posset of sack” was Falstaff's escape from the trouble he got into by "counting on a foolish woman’s promise" when he came out of the Thames and the "buck-basket." Many others, surely, in their drowning sorrow and shame, have found it to be "the best thing on earth." But, when mixed by doctors of the Dr. Crosby type, with tobacco steeped in it, it must have been a "terrible brew."

[C] A few days before her trial, Rebecca Nurse was subjected to this inspection and exploration; and the jury of women found the witch-mark upon her. On the 28th of June, two days before the meeting of the Court, she addressed to that body the following communication:—

[C] A few days before her trial, Rebecca Nurse went through this inspection and examination, and the group of women on the jury discovered the witch mark on her. On June 28th, just two days before the Court convened, she sent the following message to that body:—

"To the Honored Court of Oyer and Terminer, now sitting in Salem, this 28th of June, Anno 1692.

To the Honored Court of Oyer and Terminer, now meeting in Salem, this 28th of June, Year 1692.

"The humble petition of Rebecca Nurse, of Salem Village, humbly showeth: That whereas some women did search your petitioner at Salem, as I did then conceive for some supernatural mark; and then one of the said women, which is known to be the most ancient, skilful, prudent person of them all as to any such concern, did express herself to be of a contrary opinion from the rest, and did then declare that she saw nothing in or about Your Honor's poor petitioner but what might arise from a natural cause,—I there rendered the said persons a sufficient known reason as to myself of the moving cause thereof, which was by exceeding weaknesses, descending partly from an overture of nature, and difficult exigencies that hath befallen me in the times of my travails. And therefore your petitioner humbly prays that Your Honors would be pleased to admit of some other women to inquire into this great concern, those that are most grave, wise, and skilful; namely, Mrs. Higginson, Sr., Mrs. Buxton, Mrs. Woodbury,—two of them being midwives, Mrs. Porter, together with such others as may be chosen on that account, before I am brought to my trial. All which I hope your honors will take into your prudent consideration, and find it requisite so to do; for my life lies now in your hands, under God. And, being conscious of my own innocency, I humbly beg that I may have liberty to manifest it to the world partly by the means abovesaid.

The humble petition of Rebecca Nurse, of Salem Village, respectfully states: That some women examined your petitioner in Salem, which I believed was for some supernatural mark; and then one of those women, known to be the oldest and most knowledgeable among them, expressed a different opinion from the others and declared that she saw nothing in or around your petitioner that could not be explained by natural causes. In response, I explained to those present the reasons for my condition, which stemmed from extreme weakness, partly due to natural causes, and difficult situations I faced during my times of labor. Therefore, your petitioner respectfully requests that your honors allow for other women to investigate this serious matter, specifically those who are serious, wise, and skilled, such as Mrs. Higginson, Sr., Mrs. Buxton, and Mrs. Woodbury—two of whom are midwives, along with Mrs. Porter and others who may be chosen for this purpose, before I go to trial. I hope your honors will consider this carefully, as my life is now in your hands, under God. Being aware of my own innocence, I humbly ask for the opportunity to demonstrate it to the world, partly through the means mentioned above.

"And your poor petitioner shall evermore pray, as in duty bound, &c."

"And your poor petitioner will always pray, as expected, &c."

Her daughters—Rebecca, wife of Thomas Preston; and Mary, wife of John Tarbell—presented the following statement:—

Her daughters—Rebecca, married to Thomas Preston; and Mary, married to John Tarbell—made the following statement:—

"We whose names are underwritten—can testify, if called to it, that Goody Nurse hath been troubled with an infirmity of body for many years, which the jury of women seem to be afraid it should be something else."

"We, whose names are signed below, can confirm, if needed, that Goody Nurse has suffered from a physical ailment for many years, which the jury of women seems to fear might be something more."

There is no intimation, in any of the papers, that the petition of the mother or the deposition of her daughters received the least attention from the Court.

There is no indication in any of the documents that the mother's petition or her daughters' testimonies received any attention from the Court.

[D] On the 19th of October, 1692, Thomas Hart, of Lynn, presented a memorial to the General Court, stating that his mother, Elizabeth Hart, had then been in Boston jail for nearly six months: "Though, in all this time, nothing has appeared against her whereby to render her deserving of imprisonment or death, ... being ancient, and not able to undergo the hardship that is inflicted from lying in misery, and death rather to be chosen than a life in her circumstances." He says, that his father is "ancient and decrepit, and wholly unable" to take any steps in her behalf; that he feels "obliged by all Christian duty, as becomes a child to parents," to lay her case before the General Court. "The petitioner having lived from his childhood under the same roof with his mother, he dare presume to affirm that he never saw nor knew any evil or sinful practice wherein there was any show of impiety nor witchcraft by her; and, were it otherwise, he would not, for the world and all the enjoyments thereof, nourish or support any creature that he knew engaged in the drudgery of Satan. It is well known to all the neighborhood, that the petitioner's mother has lived a sober and godly life, always ready to discharge the part of a good Christian, and never deserving of afflictions from the hands of men for any thing of this nature." He humbly prays "for the speedy enlargement of this person so much abused." I present two more petitions. They help to fill up the picture of the sufferings and hardships borne by individuals and families.

[D] On October 19, 1692, Thomas Hart from Lynn submitted a petition to the General Court, stating that his mother, Elizabeth Hart, had been in a Boston jail for nearly six months: "Even after all this time, nothing has come up against her that justifies her imprisonment or death... considering her age and inability to endure the hardships of lying in misery, death would be more preferable than living in her conditions." He mentioned that his father is "old and frail, and completely unable" to take any action on her behalf; that he feels "compelled by all Christian duty, as is fitting for a child toward their parents," to bring her situation to the General Court's attention. "Since the petitioner has lived under the same roof as his mother since childhood, he feels confident in stating that he has never seen or known her to engage in any evil or sinful behavior that suggested impiety or witchcraft; and if it were otherwise, he would not, for anything in the world, support or care for anyone he knew was involved in Satan's work. It is well known in the entire neighborhood that the petitioner's mother has lived a sober and righteous life, always ready to fulfill her duties as a good Christian, and has never deserved any suffering at the hands of others for anything like this." He humbly requests "the quick release of this person so greatly wronged." I present two more petitions. They contribute to the understanding of the suffering and hardships experienced by individuals and families.

"To the Honored General Court now sitting in Boston, the Humble Petition of Nicholas Rist, of Reading, showeth, that whereas Sara Rist, wife of the petitioner, was taken into custody the first day of June last, and, ever since lain in Boston jail for witchcraft; though, in all this time, nothing has been made appear for which she deserved imprisonment or death: the petitioner has been a husband to the said woman above twenty years, in all which time he never had reason to accuse her for any impiety or witchcraft, but the contrary. She lived with him as a good, faithful, dutiful wife, and always had respect to the ordinances of God while her strength remained; and the petitioner, on that consideration, is obliged in conscience and justice to use all lawful means for the support and preservation of her life; and it is deplorable, that, in old age, the poor decrepit woman should lie under confinement so long in a stinking jail, when her circumstances rather require a nurse to attend her.

"To the Honored General Court currently sitting in Boston, the Humble Petition of Nicholas Rist, of Reading, states that Sara Rist, the petitioner’s wife, was taken into custody on June 1st of last year and has been held in Boston jail ever since for witchcraft; however, during this entire time, no evidence has been presented that justifies her imprisonment or execution. The petitioner has been married to this woman for over twenty years, and throughout that time, he has never had any reason to accuse her of wrongdoing or witchcraft, but rather the opposite. She lived with him as a good, loyal, and dutiful wife and always respected the laws of God while she was able. On that basis, the petitioner feels a moral and rightful obligation to use all lawful means to support and protect her life; it is truly sad that, in her old age, this poor frail woman should be confined for so long in a disgusting jail, while her situation calls for someone to care for her."

"May it, therefore, please Your Honors to take this matter into your prudent consideration, and direct some speedy methods whereby this ancient decrepit person may not for ever lie in such misery, wherein her life is made more afflictive to her than death."

"Therefore, may it please Your Honors to consider this matter wisely and direct some quick ways so that this elderly, frail person does not have to endure such misery forever, where her life is more painful to her than death."

"The Humble Petition of Thomas Barrett, of Chelmsford, in New England, in behalf of his daughter Martha Sparkes, wife of Henry Sparkes, who is now a soldier in Their Majesties' Service at the Eastern Parts, and so hath been for a considerable time, humbly showeth, That your petitioner's daughter hath lain in prison in Boston for the space of twelve months and five days, being committed by Thomas Danforth, Esq., the late deputy-governor, upon suspicion of witchcraft; since which no evidence hath appeared against her in any such matter, neither hath any given bond to prosecute her, nor doth any one at this day accuse her of any such thing, as your petitioner knows of. That your petitioner hath ever since kept two of her children; the one of five years, the other of two years old, which hath been a considerable trouble and charge to him in his poor and mean condition: besides, your petitioner hath a lame, ancient, and sick wife, who, for these five years and upwards past, hath been so afflicted as that she is altogether rendered uncapable of affording herself any help, which much augments his trouble. Your poor petitioner earnestly and humbly entreats Your Excellency and Honors to take his distressed condition into your consideration; and that you will please to order the releasement of his daughter from her confinement, whereby she may return home to her poor children to look after them, having nothing to pay the charge of her confinement.

The Humble Petition of Thomas Barrett, of Chelmsford, in New England, on behalf of his daughter Martha Sparkes, wife of Henry Sparkes, who is currently serving as a soldier for Their Majesties in the Eastern Parts, and has been for quite some time, respectfully shows that your petitioner's daughter has been in prison in Boston for twelve months and five days, having been committed by Thomas Danforth, Esq., the former deputy-governor, on suspicion of witchcraft; since then, no evidence has been presented against her in this matter, nor has anyone provided a bond to prosecute her, and no one currently accuses her of anything, as far as your petitioner knows. Your petitioner has been caring for two of her children since then; one is five years old and the other is two, which has been a significant burden and cost for him in his poor circumstances. Additionally, your petitioner has a sick, elderly wife who has been unable to care for herself due to her condition for over five years, which adds to his difficulties. Your humble petitioner earnestly requests Your Excellency and Honors to consider his desperate situation, and that you will kindly order the release of his daughter from confinement, so she may return home to care for her children, as he is unable to afford the costs of her imprisonment.

"And your petitioner, as in duty bound, shall ever pray.

"And your petitioner, as required, will always pray."

"Nov. 1, 1692."

"November 1, 1692."

[E] I know nothing more artful and jesuitical than his attempts to avoid the reproach of having been active in carrying on the delusion in Salem and elsewhere, and, at the same time, to keep up such a degree of credulity and superstition in the minds of the people as to render it easy to plunge them into it again at the first favorable moment. In the following passages, he endeavors to escape the odium that had been connected with the prosecutions:—

[E] I know nothing more crafty and manipulative than his efforts to dodge the blame for being involved in the deception in Salem and elsewhere, while also maintaining a level of gullibility and superstition among the people that would make it easy to draw them back in at the first opportunity. In the following passages, he tries to get away from the negative reputation associated with the prosecutions:—

"The world knows how many pages I have composed and published, and particular gentlemen in the government know how many letters I have written, to prevent the excessive credit of spectral accusations.

"The world knows how many pages I have written and published, and certain officials in the government know how many letters I have sent to mitigate the undue weight of unfounded accusations."

"In short, I do humbly but freely affirm it, that there is not a man living in this world, who has been more desirous than the poor man I to shelter my neighbors from the inconveniences of spectral outcries: yea, I am very jealous I have done so much that way as to sin in what I have done; such have been the cowardice and fearfulness whereunto my regard unto the dissatisfaction of other people has precipitated me. I know a man in the world, who has thought he has been able to convict some such witches as ought to die; but his respect unto the public peace has caused him rather to try whether he could not renew them by repentance."

"In short, I humbly but freely acknowledge that there isn’t anyone living in this world who has wanted more than I, the poor man, to protect my neighbors from the troubles of ghostly cries. Yes, I worry that I have gone too far in trying to help, to the point that my actions might be sinful; such has been the cowardice and fear that my concern for others’ dissatisfaction has led me. I know a man who believes he could expose some witches who deserve to die, but his concern for public peace has made him instead see if he could get them to repent."

In his Life of Sir William Phips, he endeavors to take the credit to himself of having doubted the propriety of the proceedings while they were in progress. This work was published without his name, in order that he might commend himself with more freedom. The advice given by the ministers of Boston and the vicinity to the government has been spoken of. Cotton Mather frequently took occasion to applaud and magnify the merit of this production. In one of his writings, he speaks of "the gracious words" it contained. In his Life of Phips, he thus modestly takes the credit of its authorship to himself: it was "drawn up, at their (the ministers') desire, by Mr. Mather the younger, as I have been informed." And, in order the more effectually to give the impression that he was rather opposed to the proceedings, he quotes those portions of the paper which recommended caution and circumspection, leaving out those other passages in which it was vehemently urged to carry the proceedings on "speedily and vigorously."

In his Life of Sir William Phips, he tries to take credit for having doubted whether the actions taken were appropriate while they were happening. This work was published anonymously so he could praise himself more freely. The advice given by the ministers in Boston and nearby to the government has been discussed. Cotton Mather often took the opportunity to praise and highlight the value of this work. In one of his writings, he mentions "the gracious words" it contained. In his Life of Phips, he modestly claims the authorship for himself, stating that it was "drawn up, at their (the ministers') request, by Mr. Mather the younger, as I have been informed." To further create the impression that he was somewhat against the actions taken, he quotes parts of the paper that advised caution and restraint, omitting the sections where it strongly urged to proceed "quickly and vigorously."

This single circumstance is decisive of the disingenuity of Dr. Mather. As it was the purpose of the government, in requesting the advice of the ministers, to ascertain their opinion of the expediency of continuing the prosecutions, it was a complete and deliberate perversion and falsification of their answer to omit the passages which encouraged the proceedings, and to record those only which recommended caution and circumspection. The object of Mather in suppressing the important parts of the document has, however, in some measure been answered. As the "Magnalia," within which his Life of Phips is embraced, is the usual and popular source of information and reference respecting the topics of which it treats, the opinion has prevailed, that the Boston ministers, especially "Mr. Mather the younger," endeavored to prevent the transactions connected with the trial and execution of the supposed witches. Unfortunately, however, for the reputation of Cotton Mather, Hutchinson has preserved the address of the ministers entire: and it appears that they approved, applauded, and stimulated the prosecutions; and that the people of Salem and the surrounding country were the victims of a delusion, the principal promoters of which have, to a great degree, been sheltered from reproach by the dishonest artifice, which has now been exposed.

This one situation reveals Dr. Mather's lack of honesty. The government asked the ministers for their advice to find out whether they should continue the prosecutions, so it was a complete manipulation to leave out the parts of their answer that supported the actions and only include those that urged caution. Mather's intention in hiding the key sections of the document has, to some extent, succeeded. Since the "Magnalia," which contains his Life of Phips, is the common and widely used source for information on these topics, it’s widely believed that the Boston ministers, especially "Mr. Mather the younger," tried to stop the events surrounding the trial and execution of the alleged witches. Unfortunately for Cotton Mather's reputation, Hutchinson preserved the ministers' full address, which shows that they approved of, praised, and pushed for the prosecutions. The people of Salem and the nearby areas fell victim to a misconception, and the main instigators have largely escaped blame due to the dishonest tactics that have now been revealed.

But, like other ambitious and grasping politicians, he was anxious to have the support of all parties at the same time. After making court to those who were dissatisfied with the prosecutions, he thus commends himself to all who approved of them:—

But, like other ambitious and eager politicians, he was desperate to have the support of all parties at once. After trying to win over those who were unhappy with the prosecutions, he then praises himself to everyone who supported them:—

"And why, after all my unwearied cares and pains to rescue the miserable from the lions and bears of hell which had seized them, and after all my studies to disappoint the devils in their designs to confound my neighborhood, must I be driven to the necessity of an apology? Truly, the hard representations wherewith some ill men have reviled my conduct, and the countenance which other men have given to these representations, oblige me to give mankind some account of my behavior. No Christian can (I say none but evil-workers can) criminate my visiting such of my poor flock as have at any time fallen under the terrible and sensible molestations of evil angels. Let their afflictions have been what they will, I could not have answered it unto my glorious Lord, if I had withheld my just comforts and counsels from them; and, if I have also, with some exactness, observed the methods of the invisible world, when they have thus become observable, I have been but a servant of mankind in doing so: yea, no less a person than the venerable Baxter has more than once or twice, in the most public manner, invited mankind to thank me for that service."

"And why, after all my tireless efforts to save the miserable from the hellish lions and bears that have taken hold of them, and after all my attempts to thwart the devils in their plans to disrupt my community, must I be forced to apologize? Honestly, the harsh criticisms from some malicious people and the support others have given to these criticisms compel me to explain my actions to the public. No true Christian can (I say only those who do evil can) criticize my visits to the members of my flock who have experienced the direct and terrifying attacks of evil spirits. Regardless of their struggles, I couldn't answer to my glorious Lord if I held back my rightful comfort and counsel from them; and if I have carefully observed the workings of the unseen world when they have become evident, I have simply been doing a service for humanity: yes, even the respected Baxter has publicly invited everyone to thank me for this service more than once or twice."

In other passages, he thus continues to stimulate and encourage the advocates of the prosecutions:—

In other sections, he continues to motivate and support the advocates of the prosecutions:—

"Wherefore, instead of all apish shouts and jeers at histories which have such undoubted confirmation as that no man that has breeding enough to regard the common laws of human society will offer to doubt of them, it becomes us rather to adore the goodness of God, who does not permit such things every day to befall us all, as he sometimes did permit to befall some few of our miserable neighbors.

"Therefore, instead of mocking and ridiculing histories that are undeniably supported—so much so that no one with enough decency to value the basic rules of human society would dare to question them—we should instead appreciate the goodness of God, who does not allow such misfortunes to happen to us every day, as he occasionally did allow for a select few of our unfortunate neighbors."

"And it is a very glorious thing that I have now to mention: The devils have, with most horrid operations, broke in upon our neighborhood; and God has at such a rate overruled all the fury and malice of those devils, that all the afflicted have not only been delivered, but, I hope, also savingly brought home unto God; and the reputation of no one good person in the world has been damaged, but, instead thereof, the souls of many, especially of the rising generation, have been thereby awakened unto some acquaintance with religion. Our young people, who belonged unto the praying-meetings, of both sexes, apart, would ordinarily spend whole nights, by whole weeks together, in prayers and psalms upon these occasions, in which devotions the devils could get nothing but, like fools, a scourge for their own backs: and some scores of other young people, who were strangers to real piety, were now struck with the lively demonstrations of hell evidently set forth before their eyes, when they saw persons cruelly frighted, wounded and starved by devils, and scalded with burning brimstone, and yet so preserved in this tortured state, as that, at the end of one month's wretchedness, they were as able still to undergo another; so that, of these also, it might now be said, 'Behold, they pray.' In the whole, the Devil got just nothing, but God got praises, Christ got subjects, the Holy Spirit got temples, the church got additions, and the souls of men got everlasting benefits. I am not so vain as to say that any wisdom or virtue of mine did contribute unto this good order of things; but I am so just as to say, I did not hinder this good."

"And now I have something truly remarkable to mention: The devils have, through terrible actions, invaded our community; and God has miraculously redirected all the anger and hatred of those devils so that everyone affected has not only been freed but, I hope, also brought closer to God. No one of good character has been harmed, and instead, the souls of many, especially the younger generation, have been awakened to a connection with religion. Our young people, who participated in the prayer meetings, both boys and girls, would often spend whole nights, sometimes for weeks on end, in prayer and singing psalms during these times. In these devotions, the devils gained nothing but, like fools, brought trouble upon themselves: and many others, who were unfamiliar with true faith, were now confronted with shocking displays of hell right before their eyes when they witnessed people being terrorized, hurt, starved by devils, and scorched by burning brimstone, yet somehow able to endure this suffering for a month and still face another. So, for them too, it could now be said, 'Look, they pray.' Overall, the Devil gained nothing; instead, God received praise, Christ gained followers, the Holy Spirit got places to dwell, the church grew, and people's souls received eternal benefits. I’m not so arrogant as to claim that my wisdom or virtue contributed to this positive change; but I am fair enough to say that I did not stand in the way of it."

I cannot, indeed, resist the conviction, that, notwithstanding all his attempts to appear dissatisfied, after they had become unpopular, with the occurrences in the Salem trials, he looked upon them with secret pleasure, and would have been glad to have had them repeated in Boston.

I truly can't shake the belief that, despite all his efforts to seem unhappy with the events of the Salem trials after they fell out of favor, he secretly enjoyed them and would have been happy to see them happen again in Boston.

[F] The following is a statement of the loss inflicted upon the estate of George Jacobs, Sr. The property of the son was utterly destroyed.

[F] This is a statement about the loss suffered by the estate of George Jacobs, Sr. The son's property was completely destroyed.

"An Account of what was seized and taken away from my Father's Estate, George Jacobs, Sr., late of Salem, deceased, by Sheriff Corwin and his Assistants in the year 1692.

"An Account of what was seized and taken away from my Father's Estate, George Jacobs, Sr., late of Salem, deceased, by Sheriff Corwin and his Assistants in the year 1692."

"When my said father was executed, and I was forced to fly out of the country, to my great damage and distress of my family, my wife and daughter imprisoned,—viz., my wife eleven months, and my daughter seven months in prison,—it cost them twelve pounds money to the officers, besides other charges.

"When my father was executed, and I had to flee the country, it caused great harm and distress to my family. My wife and daughter were imprisoned—my wife for eleven months, and my daughter for seven months. They had to pay twelve pounds to the officers, not to mention other expenses."

Five cows, fair large cattle, £3 per cow £  15 00 0
Eight loads of English hay taken out of the
barn, 35s. per load
 
14

00

0
A parcel of apples that made 24 barrels cider
to halves; viz., 12 barrels cider, 8s. per barrel
  4
16

Sixty bushels of Indian corn, 2s. 6d. per bushel   7 10 0
A mare   2 0 0
Two good feather beds, and furniture, rugs,
blankets, sheets, bolsters and pillows
 
10

0

0
Two brass kettles, cost   6 0 0
Money, 12s.; a large gold thumb ring, 20s.   1 12 0
Five swine   3 15 0
A quantity of pewter which I cannot exactly
know the worth, perhaps
 
3

0

   
67

13

0
Besides abundance of small things, meat in the house,
fowls, chairs, and other things took clear away

above

12

0

0

 
79
==

13
==

0
==

"George Jacobs."

"George Jacobs."

When Edward Bishop and his wife Sarah were arrested, household goods which were valued by the sheriff himself at ten pounds,—he refusing that sum for their restitution,—six cows, twenty-four swine, forty-six sheep, were taken from his farm. The imprisonment of himself and wife (prior to their escape) aggregated thirty-seven weeks. Ten shillings a week for board, and other charges and prison fees amounting to five pounds, were assessed upon his estate, and taken by distraint. A family of twelve children was left without any to direct or care for them, and the product of the farm for that year wholly cut off.

When Edward Bishop and his wife Sarah were arrested, household items worth ten pounds—an amount the sheriff himself refused to return—were seized from their farm, along with six cows, twenty-four pigs, and forty-six sheep. They were imprisoned for a total of thirty-seven weeks before they managed to escape. Their estate was charged ten shillings a week for their board, plus an additional five pounds in other fees and expenses, all of which were deducted through distraint. Their family of twelve children was left without anyone to take care of them, and the farm's production for that year was completely wiped out.

There were taken from the estate of Samuel Wardwell, who was executed, five cows, a heifer and yearling, a horse, nine hogs, eight loads of hay, six acres of standing corn, and a set of carpenters' tools. From the estate of Dorcas Hoar, a widow, there were taken two cows, an ox and mare, four pigs, bed, bed-curtains and bedding, and other household stuff.

There were taken from the estate of Samuel Wardwell, who was executed, five cows, a heifer and yearling, a horse, nine hogs, eight loads of hay, six acres of standing corn, and a set of carpenters' tools. From the estate of Dorcas Hoar, a widow, there were taken two cows, an ox and mare, four pigs, a bed, bed curtains and bedding, and other household items.

Persons apprehended were made to pay all charges of every kind for their maintenance, fuel, clothes, expenses of transportation from jail to jail, and inexorable court and prison fees. The usual fee to the clerk of the courts was £1. 17s. 5d., sometimes more; sometimes, although very rarely, a little less. He must have received a large amount of money in the aggregate that year. The prisoners were charged for every paper that was drawn up. If a reprieve was obtained, there was a fee. When discharged, there was a fee. The expenses of the executions, even hangmen's fees, were levied on the families of the sufferers. Abraham Foster, whose mother died in prison, to get her body for burial, had to pay £2. 10s.

People who were arrested had to cover all costs related to their care, including food, clothing, transportation between jails, and unavoidable court and prison fees. The typical fee for the court clerk was £1. 17s. 5d., sometimes more, and occasionally, though very rarely, a little less. He must have collected a significant sum over the year. Prisoners were charged for every document prepared. If a reprieve was granted, there was a fee. There was also a fee for being released. The costs of executions, including the fees for executioners, were billed to the families of the condemned. Abraham Foster, whose mother died in prison, had to pay £2. 10s. to get her body for burial.

When the value of money at that time is considered, and we bear in mind that most of the persons apprehended were farmers, who have but little cash on hand, and that these charges were levied on their stock, crops, and furniture in their absence, and in the unrestrained exercise of arbitrary will, by the sheriff or constables, we can judge how utterly ruinous the operation must have been.

When you think about the value of money back then, and keep in mind that most of the people arrested were farmers with very little cash available, along with the fact that these charges were imposed on their livestock, crops, and furniture without their presence, and with the sheriff or constables acting on their own authority, it’s clear just how devastating this must have been for them.

[G] Love's Labour's Lost, act v., sc. 1.

[G] Love's Labour's Lost, act v., sc. 1.

[H] There are several other depositions in these cases, that may perhaps be explained under the head of nightmare. The following are specimens; that, for instance, of Robert Downer, of Salisbury, who testifies and says,—

[H] There are a number of other testimonies in these cases that could possibly be described as nightmares. Here are some examples; for instance, Robert Downer from Salisbury, who testifies and says,—

"That, several years ago, Susanna Martin, the then wife of George Martin, being brought to court for a witch, the said Downer, having some words with her, this deponent, among other things, told her he believed that she was a witch, by what was said or witnessed against her; at which she, seeming not well affected, said that a, or some, she-devil would fetch him away shortly, at which this deponent was not much moved; but at night, as he lay in his bed in his own house, alone, there came at his window the likeness of a cat, and by and by came up to his bed, took fast hold of his throat, and lay hard upon him a considerable while, and was like to throttle him. At length, he minded what Susanna Martin threatened him with the day before. He strove what he could, and said, 'Avoid, thou she-devil, in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost!' and then it let him go, and jumped down upon the floor, and went out at the window again."

"Several years ago, Susanna Martin, who was then married to George Martin, was taken to court for being a witch. During the proceedings, the witness, among other things, told her that he believed she was a witch based on what was said or testified against her. She, not appearing in good spirits, said that a she-devil would come to take him away soon, but this didn't really upset him. However, that night, while he was in bed alone at home, he saw a figure that looked like a cat at his window. Then it crawled up to his bed, grabbed his throat, and pressed down on him for quite a while, almost choking him. Eventually, he remembered what Susanna Martin had threatened him with the day before. He did his best to struggle and said, 'Leave me alone, you she-devil, in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit!' At that, it released him, jumped down onto the floor, and went back out the window."

Susanna Martin, by the boldness and severity of her language, in defending herself against the charge of witchcraft, had evidently, for a long time, rendered herself an object of dread, and seems to have disturbed the dreams of the superstitious throughout the neighborhood. For instance, Jarvis Ring, of Salisbury, made oath as follows:—

Susanna Martin, with the boldness and harshness of her words, in defending herself against the accusation of witchcraft, had clearly made herself a source of fear for a long time, and seems to have haunted the nightmares of the superstitious people in the area. For example, Jarvis Ring, from Salisbury, swore the following:—

"That, about seven or eight years ago, he had been several times afflicted, in the night-time, by some body or some thing coming up upon him when he was in bed, and did sorely afflict him by lying upon him; and he could neither move nor speak while it was upon him, but sometimes made a kind of noise that folks did hear him and come up to him; and, as soon as anybody came, it would be gone. This it did for a long time, both then and since, but he did never see anybody clearly; but one time, in the night, it came upon me as at other times, and I did then see the person of Susanna Martin, of Amesbury. I, this deponent, did perfectly see her; and she came to this deponent, and took him by the hand, and bit him by the finger by force, and then came and lay upon him awhile, as formerly, and after a while went away. The print of the bite is yet to be seen on the little finger of his right hand; for it was hard to heal. He further saith, that several times he was asleep when it came; but, at that time, he was as fairly awaked as ever he was, and plainly saw her shape, and felt her teeth, as aforesaid."

"About seven or eight years ago, he was often troubled at night by something or someone coming up to him while he was in bed. It would weigh heavily on him, making it impossible for him to move or speak, though sometimes he was able to make a noise that drew people to him. But as soon as someone arrived, it would vanish. This happened for a long time, both then and later, but he never clearly saw anyone. However, one night it happened again, and this time he saw the figure of Susanna Martin from Amesbury. I, this witness, saw her clearly; she came to me, took my hand, and forcefully bit my finger. Then she lay on me for a while, just like before, and after some time, she left. The mark from the bite is still visible on the little finger of my right hand; it was slow to heal. He further states that he was asleep several times when it occurred, but at that moment, he was fully awake and could clearly see her form and feel her teeth, as mentioned."

Barnard Peach made oath substantially as follows:—

Barnard Peach swore essentially the following:—

"That about six or seven years past, being in bed on a Lord's-day night, he heard a scrambling at the window, and saw Susanna Martin come in at the window, and jump down upon the floor. She was in her hood and scarf, and the same dress that she was in before, at meeting the same day. Being come in, she was coming up towards this deponent's face, but turned back to his feet, and took hold of them, and drew up his body into a heap, and lay upon him about an hour and a half or two hours, in all which time this deponent could not stir nor speak; but, feeling himself beginning to be loosened or lightened, and he beginning to strive, he put out his hand among the clothes, and took hold of her hand, and brought it up to his mouth, and bit three of the fingers (as he judges) to the breaking of the bones; which done, the said Martin went out of the chamber, down the stairs, and out of the door. The deponent further declared, that, on another Lord's-day night, while sleeping on the hay in a barn, about midnight the said Susanna Martin and another came out of the shop into the barn, and one of them said, 'Here he is,' and then came towards this deponent. He, having a quarter-staff, made a blow at them; but the roof of the barn prevented it, and they went away: but this deponent followed them, and, as they were going towards the window, made another blow at them, and struck them both down; but away they went out at the shop-window, and this deponent saw no more of them. And the rumor went, that the said Martin had a broken head at that time; but the deponent cannot speak to that upon his own knowledge."

"About six or seven years ago, one Sunday night, he was in bed when he heard a scrambling at the window and saw Susanna Martin come in through the window and jump onto the floor. She was wearing her hood and scarf, in the same dress she had on earlier that day at church. Once she entered, she moved toward this witness's face but then turned back to his feet, grabbed them, and pulled his body into a heap, lying on him for about an hour and a half or two hours. During that time, this witness couldn’t move or speak; but as he started to feel less restricted and began to struggle, he reached his hand among the clothes, grabbed her hand, brought it to his mouth, and bit three of her fingers (as he believes) hard enough to break the bones. After that, Martin left the room, went down the stairs, and out the door. The witness also stated that, on another Sunday night, while he was sleeping on hay in a barn around midnight, Susanna Martin and another person came out from the shop into the barn. One of them said, 'Here he is,' and then approached this witness. He had a quarterstaff and swung it at them, but the barn's roof got in the way, so they ran off. However, he chased after them, and as they were heading toward the window, he swung again and struck them both down; yet, they escaped through the shop window, and he didn’t see them again. There were rumors that Martin had a broken head at that time, but the witness cannot confirm that from his own knowledge."

Any one who has had the misfortune to be subject to nightmare will find the elements of his own experience very much resembling the descriptions given by Kembal, Downer, Ring, and Peach. The terrors to which superstition, credulity, and ignorance subjected their minds; the frightful tales of witchcraft and apparitions to which they were accustomed to listen; and the contagious fears of the neighborhood in reference to Susanna Martin, taken in connection with a disordered digestion, an overloaded stomach, and a hard bed, or a strange lodging-place,—are wholly sufficient to account for all the phenomena to which they testified.

Anyone who has unfortunately experienced a nightmare will find that their own experiences closely resemble the descriptions given by Kembal, Downer, Ring, and Peach. The fears instilled in them by superstition, gullibility, and ignorance; the terrifying stories about witchcraft and ghosts that they often heard; and the shared anxieties of the community regarding Susanna Martin, combined with issues like poor digestion, an upset stomach, and an uncomfortable bed or unfamiliar sleeping arrangements—are more than enough to explain all the phenomena they reported.

[I] The facts and considerations in reference to the authorship of the letter to Jonathan Corwin may be summarily stated as follows:—

[I] The facts and considerations regarding the authorship of the letter to Jonathan Corwin can be briefly stated as follows:—

The letter is signed "R.P." Under these initials is written, "Robert Pain," in a different hand, and, as the ink as well as the chirography shows, at a somewhat later date. R.P. are blotted over, but with ink of such lighter hue that the original letters are clearly discernible under it. A Robert Paine graduated at Harvard College, in 1656. But he was probably the foreman of the grand jury that brought in all the indictments in the witchcraft trials; and therefore could not, from the declarations in the letter itself, have been its author. The only other person of that name at the time, of whom we have knowledge, was his father, who seems, by the evidence we have, to have died in 1693. (That date is given in the Harvard Triennial for the death of Robert Paine, the graduate; but erroneously, I think, as signatures to documents, and conveyances of property subsequently, can hardly be ascribed to any other person.) Robert Paine, the father, from the earliest settlement of Ipswich, had been one of the leading men of the town, apparently of larger property than any other, often its deputy in the General Court, and, for a great length of time, ruling elder of the church. "Elder Pain," or Penn, as the name was often spelled, enjoyed the friendship of John Norton, and all the ministers far and near; and religious meetings were often held at his house. We know nothing to justify us in saying that he could not have been the author of this paper; but we also know nothing, except the appearance of his name upon it, to impute it to him.

The letter is signed "R.P." Below these initials is written, "Robert Pain," in a different handwriting, and it looks like it was added later with different ink. The initials R.P. are smudged, but the lighter ink allows the original letters to be clearly seen underneath. A Robert Paine graduated from Harvard College in 1656. However, he was probably the foreman of the grand jury that brought all the indictments in the witch trials, so according to what the letter says, he couldn’t be its author. The only other person with that name at the time that we know of was his father, who seems to have died in 1693. (That date is listed in the Harvard Triennial for Robert Paine, the graduate, but I believe it’s incorrect, because signatures on documents and property transfers later on can hardly belong to anyone else.) Robert Paine, the father, had been one of the leading figures in Ipswich since its earliest days, apparently owning more property than anyone else, and often served as its deputy in the General Court, as well as being the ruling elder of the church for a long time. "Elder Pain," or Penn, as the name was often spelled, was friends with John Norton and many ministers from far and wide; religious meetings were often held at his home. We have no reason to say he couldn't have written this document, but we also have no evidence, other than his name appearing on it, to suggest he did.

The document is dated from "Salisbury." So far as we know, Elder Paine always lived in Ipswich; although, having property in the upper county, he may have often been, and possibly in his last years resided, there. It is, it is true, a strong circumstance, that his name is written, although by a late hand, under the initials. It shows that the person who wrote it thought that "R.P." meant Robert Paine; but any one conversant especially with the antiquities of Ipswich, or this part of the county, might naturally fall into such a mistake. The authorship of documents was often erroneously ascribed. The words "Robert Pain" were, probably, not on the paper when the indorsement was made, "A letter to my grandfather," &c. Elder Robert Paine, if living in 1692, was ninety-one years of age. The document under consideration, if composed by him, is truly a marvellous production,—an intellectual phenomenon not easily to be paralleled.

The document is dated from "Salisbury." As far as we know, Elder Paine always lived in Ipswich; however, since he owned property in the upper county, he may have visited frequently, and possibly resided there in his later years. It's certainly significant that his name is written, albeit in a later hand, under the initials. This suggests that the writer believed "R.P." stood for Robert Paine; however, anyone familiar with the history of Ipswich or this part of the county might easily make such a mistake. The authorship of documents was often misattributed. The words "Robert Pain" probably weren't on the paper when the note was made, "A letter to my grandfather," etc. If Elder Robert Paine was alive in 1692, he would have been ninety-one years old. The document in question, if indeed written by him, is truly an astonishing work—an intellectual marvel that's hard to match.

The facts in reference to Robert Pike, of Salisbury, as they bear upon the question of the authorship of the document, are these: He was seventy-six years of age in 1692, and had always resided in "Salisbury." The letter and argument are both in the handwriting of Captain Thomas Bradbury, Recorder of old Norfolk County. On this point, there can be no question. Bradbury and Pike had been fellow-townsmen for more than half a century, connected by all the ties of neighborhood and family intermarriage, and jointly or alternately had borne all the civic and military honors the people could bestow. The document was prepared and delivered to the judge while Mrs. Bradbury was in prison, and just one month before her trial. Pike, as has been shown (p. 226), was deeply interested in her behalf. The original signature ("R.P.") has the marked characteristics of the same initial letters as found in innumerable autographs of his, on file or record. There are interlineations, beyond question in Pike's handwriting. These facts demonstrate that both Pike and Bradbury were concerned in producing the document.

The facts regarding Robert Pike from Salisbury, related to the question of who wrote the document, are as follows: He was seventy-six years old in 1692 and had always lived in "Salisbury." The letter and argument are both written in the handwriting of Captain Thomas Bradbury, the Recorder of old Norfolk County. There’s no doubt about this point. Bradbury and Pike had been hometown neighbors for over fifty years, connected through neighborhood ties and family intermarriages, and they had both held various civic and military honors bestowed by the people. The document was prepared and given to the judge while Mrs. Bradbury was in prison, just one month before her trial. Pike, as previously indicated (p. 226), was very invested in her case. The original signature ("R.P.") clearly shows the same initial letters that appear in countless autographs of his, which are on file. There are also notes added in handwriting that is definitely Pike's. These facts indicate that both Pike and Bradbury played a role in creating the document.

The history of Robert Pike proves that he was a man of great ability, had a turn of mind towards logical exercises, and was, from early life, conversant with disputations. Nearly fifty years before, he argued in town-meeting against the propriety, in view of civil and ecclesiastical law, of certain acts of the General Court. They arraigned, disfranchised, and otherwise punished him for his "litigiousness:" but the weight of his character soon compelled them to restore his political rights; and the people of Salisbury, the very next year, sent him among them as their deputy, and continued him from time to time in that capacity. At a subsequent period, he was the leader and spokesman of a party in a controversy about some ecclesiastical affairs, involving apparently certain nice questions of theology, which created a great stir through the country. The contest reached so high a point, that the church at Salisbury excommunicated him; but the public voice demanded a council of churches, which assembled in September, 1676, and re-instated Major Pike condemning his excommunication, "finding it not justifiable upon divers grounds." On this occasion, as before, the General Court frowned upon and denounced him; but the people came again to his rescue, sending him at the next election into the House of Deputies, and kept him there until raised to the Upper House as an Assistant. He was in the practice of conducting causes in the courts, and was long a local magistrate and one of the county judges.

The history of Robert Pike shows that he was a highly capable man with a strong inclination towards logical thinking, and he was engaged in debates from a young age. Nearly fifty years earlier, he argued in a town meeting against the appropriateness of certain actions by the General Court, considering both civil and church law. They accused, disfranchised, and otherwise punished him for being "litigious," but the strength of his character soon led them to reinstate his political rights. The people of Salisbury sent him as their deputy the very next year and kept electing him to that position over time. Later, he became the leader and spokesperson for a faction involved in a controversy over certain church issues, which raised some delicate theological questions and stirred significant unrest across the region. The conflict escalated to the point where the church in Salisbury excommunicated him; however, public opinion called for a council of churches, which convened in September 1676 and reinstated Major Pike, stating that his excommunication was "not justifiable on various grounds." Just as before, the General Court disapproved of him, but once again, the people supported him, electing him to the House of Deputies at the next election, where he served until being promoted to the Upper House as an Assistant. He frequently represented cases in court and served for a long time as a local magistrate and one of the county judges.

He does not appear to have been present at any of the trials or examinations of 1692; but his official position as Assistant caused many depositions taken in his neighborhood to be acknowledged and sworn before him. While entertaining the prevalent views about diabolical agency, he always disapproved of the proceedings of the Court in the particulars to which the arguments of the communication to Jonathan Corwin apply,—the "spectre evidence,"—and the statements and actings of "the afflicted children." There are indications that sometimes he saw through the folly of the stories told by persons whose depositions he was called to attest. One John Pressy was circulating a wonderful tale about an encounter he had with the spectre of Susanna Martin. Pike sent for him, and took his deposition. Pressy averred, that, one evening, coming from Amesbury Ferry, he fell in with the shape of Martin in the form of a body of light, which "seemed to be about the bigness of a half-bushel." After much dodging and manœuvring, and being lost and bewildered, wandering to and fro, tumbling into holes,—where, as the deposition states, no "such pitts" were known to exist,—and other misadventures, he came to blows with the light, and had several brushes with it, striking it with his stick. At one time, "he thinks he gave her at least forty blows." He finally succeeded in finding "his own house: but, being then seized with fear, could not speak till his wife spoke to him at the door, and was in such a condition that the family was afraid of him; which story being carried to the town the next day, it was, upon inquiry, understood, that said Goodwife Martin was in such a miserable case and in such pain that they swabbed her body, as was reported." He concludes his deposition by saying, that Major Pike "seemed to be troubled that this deponent had not told him of it in season that she might have been viewed to have seen what her ail was." The affair had happened "about twenty-four years ago." Probably neither Pressy nor the Court appreciated the keenness of the major's expression of regret. It broke the bubble of the deposition. The whole story was the product of a benighted imagination, disordered by fear, filled with inebriate vagaries, exaggerated in nightmare, and resting upon wild and empty rumors. Robert Pike's course, in the case of Mrs. Bradbury, harmonizes with the supposition that he was Corwin's correspondent.

He seems not to have been at any of the trials or examinations in 1692, but his role as Assistant meant that many depositions taken in his area were acknowledged and sworn before him. While he held the common beliefs about diabolical influence, he consistently disapproved of the Court's actions specifically related to the concerns addressed in the communication to Jonathan Corwin—the "spectre evidence"—and the claims and behavior of "the afflicted children." There are signs that at times he saw through the foolishness of the tales told by those whose depositions he was called to verify. One John Pressy was spreading a remarkable story about an encounter he had with the spectre of Susanna Martin. Pike summoned him and took his deposition. Pressy claimed that one evening, while returning from Amesbury Ferry, he encountered Martin’s ghost in the shape of a body of light that "seemed to be about the size of a half-bushel." After a lot of dodging and maneuvering, and getting lost and confused, wandering around, stumbling into holes—where, according to the deposition, no "such pits" were known to exist—and facing other odd incidents, he ended up in a struggle with the light, having several encounters with it, hitting it with his stick. At one point, "he thinks he gave her at least forty blows." He eventually found "his own house; but, feeling terrified, couldn’t speak until his wife talked to him at the door, and was in such a state that the family was scared of him; this story was shared in town the following day, and upon inquiry, it was understood that said Goodwife Martin was in such a terrible condition and in such pain that they had to swab her body, as was reported." He ended his deposition by saying that Major Pike "seemed to be troubled that this deponent hadn't told him in time so she could have been checked to see what was wrong with her." The incident happened "about twenty-four years ago." Likely, neither Pressy nor the Court understood the depth of the major's expression of regret. It burst the bubble of the deposition. The entire tale was the result of a confused imagination, disturbed by fear, filled with drunken fantasies, exaggerated in nightmares, and based on wild and baseless rumors. Robert Pike's actions in the case of Mrs. Bradbury align with the idea that he was Corwin's contact.

Materials may be brought to light that will change the evidence on the point. It may be found that Elder Paine died before 1692: that would dispose of the question. It may appear that he was living in Salisbury at the time, and acted with Pike and Bradbury, they giving to the paper the authority of his venerable name and years. But all that is now known, constrains me to the conclusion stated in the text.

Materials may come to light that will change the evidence on this point. It might turn out that Elder Paine died before 1692: that would settle the question. It could also be found that he was living in Salisbury at the time and worked with Pike and Bradbury, who lent their authority to the paper by using his respected name and years. But all that is currently known leads me to the conclusion stated in the text.

[J] As an illustration of the oblivion that had settled over the details of the transactions and characters connected with the witchcraft prosecutions, it may be mentioned, that when, thirty-five years ago, I prepared the work entitled 'Lectures on Witchcraft; comprising a History of the Delusion in 1692,' although professional engagements prevented my making the elaborate exploration that has now been given to the subject, I extended the investigation over the ordinary fields of research, and took particular pains to obtain information brought down by tradition, gleaned all that could be gathered from the memories of old persons then living of what they had heard from their predecessors, and sought for every thing that local antiquaries and genealogists could contribute. I find, by the methods of inquiry adopted in the preparation of the present work, how inadequate and meagre was the knowledge then possessed. Most of the persons accused and executed, like Giles Corey, his wife Martha, and Bridget Bishop, were supposed to have been of humble, if not mean condition, of vagrant habits, and more or less despicable repute. By following the threads placed in my hands, in the files of the county-offices of Registry of Deeds and Wills, and documents connected with trials at law, and by a collation of conveyances and the administration of estates, I find that Corey, however eccentric or open to criticism in some features of character and passages of his life, was a large landholder, and a man of singular force and acuteness of intellect; while his wife had an intelligence in advance of her times, and was a woman of eminent piety. The same is found to have been the case with most of those who suffered.

[J] To illustrate the forgetfulness that has settled over the details of the transactions and characters involved in the witchcraft prosecutions, it’s worth noting that when I put together 'Lectures on Witchcraft; covering a History of the Delusion in 1692' thirty-five years ago, my professional obligations prevented me from doing the in-depth research that has been undertaken now. I did investigate the usual sources and made an effort to gather information passed down through tradition. I collected everything I could from the memories of older individuals alive at that time regarding what they had heard from their forebears, and I sought out insights from local historians and genealogists. Through the research methods used for this current work, I've realized how limited and superficial the knowledge was back then. Most of the people accused and executed, like Giles Corey, his wife Martha, and Bridget Bishop, were believed to be of low, if not destitute, status, with wandering lifestyles and varying degrees of disrepute. However, by following the leads from the county's Registry of Deeds and Wills, legal trial documents, and by reviewing property transfers and estate management, I find that Corey, despite being seen as eccentric or open to criticism in some aspects of his character and life, was actually a large landowner and a man of notable strength and sharp intellect. His wife was exceptionally intelligent for her time and was a woman of great piety. This was also true for most of those who suffered.

The reader may judge of my surprise in now discovering, that, while writing the "Lectures on Witchcraft," I was owning and occupying a part of the estate of Bridget Bishop, if not actually living in her house. The hard, impenetrable, all but petrified oak frame seems to argue that it dates back as far as when she rebuilt and renewed the original structure. Little, however, did I suspect, while delivering those lectures in the Lyceum Hall, that we were assembled on the site of her orchard, the scene of the preternatural and diabolical feats charged upon her by the testimony of Louder and others. Her estate was one of the most eligible and valuable in the old town, with a front, as has been mentioned, of a hundred feet on Washington Street, and extending along Church Street more than half the distance to St. Peter's Street. At the same time, her husband seems to have had a house in the village, near the head of Bass River. It is truly remarkable, that the locality of the property and residence of a person of her position, and who led the way among the victims of such an awful tragedy, should have become wholly obliterated from memory and tradition, in a community of such intelligence, consisting, in so large a degree, of old families, tracing themselves back to the earliest generations, and among whom the innumerable descendants of her seven great-grandchildren have continued to this day. It can only be accounted for by the considerations mentioned in the text. Tradition was stifled by horror and shame. What all desired to forget was forgotten. The only recourse was in oblivion; and all, sufferers and actors alike, found shelter under it.

I was genuinely surprised to discover that while writing the "Lectures on Witchcraft," I was living on a part of Bridget Bishop's estate, if not actually in her house. The tough, solid oak frame suggests that it could date back to when she rebuilt the original structure. Yet, while giving those lectures in the Lyceum Hall, I had no idea we were gathered on the site of her orchard, the scene of the strange and evil acts attributed to her by Louder and others. Her estate was one of the most desirable and valuable in the old town, with a hundred feet of frontage on Washington Street and extending along Church Street more than halfway to St. Peter's Street. Meanwhile, her husband seems to have had a house in the village, near the head of Bass River. It's truly remarkable that the location of the property and residence of someone like her, who was among the first victims of such a terrible tragedy, has completely faded from memory and tradition in a community with such intelligence, filled largely with old families tracing their lineage back to the earliest generations. Many descendants of her seven great-grandchildren are still here today. This can only be explained by the factors mentioned in the text. Tradition was suffocated by horror and shame. What everyone wanted to forget has been forgotten. The only option was to seek refuge in oblivion, and everyone, both the victims and those involved, found shelter there.

[K] The looseness and inaccuracy of persons in reference to their own ages, in early times, is quite observable. In depositions, they speak of themselves as "about" so many years, or as of so many years "or thereabouts." A variance on this point is often found in the statements of the same person at different times. Neither are records always to be relied upon as to precision. In the record-book of the village church, Mr. Parris enters the age of Mrs. Ann Putnam, at the date of her admission, June 4, 1691, as "Ann: ætat: 27." But an "Account of the Early Settlers of Salisbury," in the "New-England Historical and Genealogical Register," vol. vii. p. 314, gives the date of her birth "15, 4, 1661." Her age is stated above according to this last authority; and, if correct, she was not so young, at the time of her marriage, as intimated (vol. i. p. 253), but seventeen years five months and ten days. It is difficult, however, to conceive how Parris, who was careful about such matters, and undoubtedly had his information from her own lips, could have been so far out of the way. Her brother, William Carr, in 1692, deposed that he was then forty-one years of age or thereabouts; whereas, the "Account of the Early Settlers of Salisbury," just referred to, gives the date of his birth "15, 1, 1648." It is indeed singular, that two members of a family of their standing should have been under an error as to their own age; one to an extent of almost, the other of some months more than, three years.

[K] The inaccuracy and lack of precision about personal ages in earlier times is quite noticeable. In statements, people often refer to themselves as "about" a certain age or "or thereabouts." Discrepancies on this matter frequently appear in the accounts of the same person at different times. Records aren't always trustworthy in terms of accuracy either. In the village church's record book, Mr. Parris notes Mrs. Ann Putnam's age at her admission on June 4, 1691, as "Ann: ætat: 27." However, an "Account of the Early Settlers of Salisbury," in the "New-England Historical and Genealogical Register," vol. vii. p. 314, states her birth date as "15, 4, 1661." Her age is referenced according to this latter source; if that's correct, she wasn't as young at her marriage as implied (vol. i. p. 253), but was actually seventeen years, five months, and ten days. It's hard to understand how Parris, who paid attention to details and likely received information directly from her, could have been so mistaken. Her brother, William Carr, claimed in 1692 that he was around forty-one years old, while the "Account of the Early Settlers of Salisbury" mentions his birth date as "15, 1, 1648." It's quite unusual for two members of a family of their status to have such a significant misunderstanding about their own ages; one being off by almost three years, and the other by a few months more than that.

[L] The following passage is from the parish records:—

[L] The following excerpt is from the parish records:—

"On the 3d of February, 1693, a warrant was issued for a meeting of the inhabitants of the village, signed by Thomas Preston, Joseph Pope, Joseph Houlton, and John Tarbell, of the standing annual committee, to be held Feb. 14, 'to consider and agree and determine who are capable of voting in our public transactions, by the power given us by the General-court order at our first settlement; and to consider of and make void a vote in our book of records, on the 18th of June, 1689, where there is a salary of sixty-six pounds stated to Mr. Parris, he not complying with it; also to consider of and make void several votes in the book of records on the 10th of October, 1692, where our ministry house and barn and two acres of land seem to be conveyed from us after a fraudulent manner.'"

"On February 3, 1693, a warrant was issued for a meeting of the village residents, signed by Thomas Preston, Joseph Pope, Joseph Houlton, and John Tarbell, members of the standing annual committee, to be held on February 14, 'to discuss and determine who is eligible to vote in our public matters, as authorized by the General Court order at our initial settlement; and to review and annul a vote in our record book from June 18, 1689, which states a salary of sixty-six pounds for Mr. Parris, who did not comply with it; also to review and annul several votes in the record book from October 10, 1692, where our ministry house, barn, and two acres of land appear to have been transferred from us in a fraudulent manner.'"

At this meeting, it was voted, that "all men that are ratable, or hereafter shall be living within that tract of land mentioned in our General-court order, shall have liberty in nominating and appointing a committee, and voting in any of our public concerns."

At this meeting, it was voted that "all eligible men who are currently living or will live in the area mentioned in our General Court order shall have the right to nominate and appoint a committee and vote on any of our public matters."

By referring to the account, in the First Part, of the controversy between the inhabitants of the village and Mr. Bayley, "the power" above alluded to, "given us by the General Court," will be seen fully described. In its earnestness to fasten Mr. Bayley upon "the inhabitants," the Court elaborately ordained the system by which they should be constrained to provide for him, and compelled to raise the means of paying his salary. As no church had then been organized, the General Court fastened the duty upon "householders." The fact had not been forgotten, and the above vote showed that the parish intended to hold on to the power then given them. This highly incensed the Court of Sessions. It ordered the parish book of records to be produced before it, and caused a condemnation of such a claim of right to be written out, in open Court, on the face of the record, where it is now to be seen. It is as follows:—

By looking at the account in the First Part about the dispute between the village residents and Mr. Bayley, the "power" mentioned earlier, "given to us by the General Court," is described in detail. The Court, determined to link Mr. Bayley to "the inhabitants," established a detailed system that required them to support him and gather the funds to pay his salary. Since no church had been set up at that time, the General Court placed this responsibility on "householders." This fact was not forgotten, and the vote above indicated that the parish intended to retain the power given to them. This greatly angered the Court of Sessions. It ordered the parish record book to be presented and had a condemnation of such a claim of right written out in open Court, which can now be seen on the record. It reads as follows:—

"At the General Sessions of the Peace holden at Ipswich, March the 28th, 1693. This Court having viewed and considered the above agreement or vote contained in the last five lines, finding the same to be repugnant to the laws of this province, do declare the same to be null and void, and that this order be recorded with the records of this Court.

"At the General Sessions of the Peace held in Ipswich on March 28, 1693. This Court, having reviewed and considered the agreement or vote in the last five lines, finds it to be contrary to the laws of this province and declares it null and void, and that this order should be recorded with the records of this Court."

"Attest, Stephen Sewall, Clerk."

"Attest, Stephen Sewall, Clerk."


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