Part 11

On the 21st of July, Hathorn, Curwin, Gidney and Higginson, assistants, sat upon her confession in public, and they began thus: Goody Foster, you know we have spoken with you before; you have committed great wickedness, but it seems that God will give you more favor than others, since you relent, but you did not tell us all; your daughter has confessed that she sat with you and Goody Carrier when you did ride upon the pole? F.―I did not know. How long has your daughter been a witch? F.―I have no knowledge of it―I cannot tell. Did you see her at the witch meeting? F.―No. But you said she was there, and that you stood off and did not partake; gve us a full account? F.―I know none who were there but Goody Carrier. Were there not two companies in the field? F.―I know no more. Here Mary Warren, one of the afflicted, interposed a new lie, and said that Carrier’s spectre told her, that Foster had made her daughter a witch! and the court then said to F., will you now confess you did so, about three years ago? F.―I know no more about my daughter being a witch, than upon what day I shall die. Are you willing that she should make a free confession? F.―Yes. Will you confess? F.―Yes; if I knew anything more I would speak. The magistrate now directed to have Goody Lacy, the daughter, called in, and as she entered she began. O, mother, how do you do? O, mother, we have left Christ and the devil hath got hold of us; O, how shall I get rid of this evil one! I pray God to break my rocky heart that I may get the victory this time. This witchcraft of the daughter was a surprise upon Goody Foster, she came to the confession prepared to accuse herself and Goody Carrier, but the danger of her child distressed and confounded her, and when urged to speak she answered incoherently. I did not see the devil, I was praying to the Lord. To what Lord, said the court. F.―To God. To what God do witches pray? F.―I cannot tell. The Lord help me! and she sat down overpowered, as the justice concluded guilty of witchcraft, but in truth with her own fictions. Lacy.―They were some of the higher powers; they were―Goody Lacy, said the court, let your daughter come in; we will examine her a little, and when Mary Lacy the younger, and granddaughter of Foster entered, she stood before the magistrates with downcast looks, an interesting girl of seventeen; yet at sight of her Mary Warren fell down in a violent fit. Whereupon Hathorn said to Mary sternly, why dare you come here, and bring the devil with you, to afflict these poor creatures; now look upon these maids in a mild and friendly way, said he, and then she turned upon the afflicted a look so kind and gentle that the bystanders smiled in sympathy, and yet the bewitched band were struck down,―pity, thought the beholders, that eyes so mild and blue should bear the devil’s spite in them.

And now said Hathorn, do you confess yourself a witch,―she hung her head―tears flowed down and she sobbed out,―ye-s, sir.

Well maiden, said the justice, you are accused of tormenting Goody Ballard, how do you do it? I don’t know. How long have you been a witch? Not above a week. Have you ever seen the devil? Yes sir. Did he bid you worship him? Yes sir. And to afflict people? Yes sir. I see, said Major Gidney, one of the magistrates, that you are in a fair way to obtain mercy. Do you desire to be saved by Christ? Yes sir, I do. Then said he, you must tell all you know.―The Lord help me so to do, said Mary. I was in bed when the devil came to me; in bed! said the Major―the devil came to your bed! how did he look? Like a great black dog. O, very well, you may go on,―what did he say? He bade me, said Mary, obey him and that I should want for nothing, and he promised he would not betray me, but he’s an old liar. How long ago was this, said Hathorn. About a year. Richard Carrier now comes often a’nights, and has me to afflict people.―He’s a rogue, cried the Major, and is making a very bad use of you! but where do you go? To Goody Ballard’s sometimes, and my mother and grandmother and Richard Carrier and his mother go there to.

Did you attend the great meeting at Salem village? Yes. Who went with you? My mother, and grandmother and Goody Carrier rode upon a long pole through the air; and I rode behind Richard Carrier upon another pole! Did you see any men at the meeting? None but the devil. How did he appear?―Like a black man with a high crowned hat on.―But did you see no other man? Your mother and grandmother say they saw a minister there. I believe I did see a minister. Was not Mr. Burroughs there? Yes he was. Thus was she made, by leading questions to accuse an absent and innocent minister of the gospel. These confessions in the end produced a sentence of death against Goody Foster and the elder Mary Lacy; but they were reprieved by Sir William Phipps and finally pardoned.

Mary Osgood, was one of the Andover witches accused by Abigail Williams of afflicting Goody Ballard, and after long imprisonment she was induced to give her confession in the form of a deposition; and she stated ‘that about eleven years before as she one day walked in an orchard near her house in great distress of mind, she attempted to pray; at this moment what seemed a cat crossed her path, and by its strange movements so fixed her attention that she ceased to pray. Soon a strange influence came over her and she prayed again and as she presumed to the devil for presently a black man appeared, and offered her a large book to sign; she wrote her name in it and where her finger touched the paper, it left a red spot. The apparrition told her that she was his, and that he was her God, and that she must worship him! and she believed she consented so to do.

Nine years after, the same personage appeared and carried her with others, upon a pole through the air to Five-mile-pond, and there making her renounce her former baptism, baptized her, amen, since which she afflicted people, and frolicked with the devil upon Sabbath days, and other holy festivals.

Hathorn, before whom this was also taken, always ready to hunt witches, no sooner heard that Mrs. Osgood and the devil had company upon the pole; than he asked her who they were. She replied they were Goody Tyler, Mistress Baker, and Dea, Fry’s wife. These were then arrested, and constrained to make further witch fictions to save their lives. And thus was the business driven on. There were sceptics even at this season of the delusion, who denied the validity of spectral evidence. It appears, said they, that the devil can use the spectre of one person to afflict another; why may he not take the spectre of an innocent person in that business, and then as things now are, every man’s life is at the mercy of the devil; for between him and the afflicted he is sure to suffer. Hathorn on this occasion asked Mrs. Osgood whether the devil, or his witches could use the shape of an innocent person to afflict people.―She replied that it could not be; for said she, last Monday night we witches had a meeting to afflict people, and Goody Dean and myself tried to carry the shape of the Rev. Mr. Dean of Andover between us to make it believed that he afflicted persons; but we could not. And why could you not do it, said the justice. Because, said Mrs. O., the Lord would not suffer so good a man, to be so used! This answer saved the worthy minister, who had often been hinted at by the bewitched. He was not a sound convert to witchcraft.

But on the 14th of May 1692, Sir William Phipps arrived with the Provincial Charter, and immediately took upon himself the government.

On the second day of June five magistrates sat, and selected for trial Bridget Bishop, the wife of Edward Bishop of Salem. This poor woman had for many years been reputed a witch; and this by the accusations of one Samuel Gray, and although on his death-bed he confessed his sorrow for the wrong he had done her, yet the imputation still rested upon her, and now enabled the afflicted, with their managers, to destroy her. And above all, as an excrescence supposed to be a witch teat was found on her body. To give currency and popularity to her execution a story was fabricated, and most industriously circulated by the witchcraft party, that as Bishop was led out to execution under a strong guard, she gave a look at the then newly erected meeting house in Salem, so blasting and spiteful, that an invisible demon forthwith entered in and tore down a portion of the holy edifice. And this is from Cotton Mather’s account of the Salem witch trials, drawn up for inspection, and by the request of Sir William, himself. The commissioners then adjourned to the 30th of June following.

Aside from the manifest fallacy of her supposed crime, and the illegality of Sir William’s commission to try witches, the woman had violated no existing law, statute or common. On the eighth of June, and two or three days after her trial and condemnation, the general court of the province was convened, and their only act was to revive the whole colonial code laws including the old Cottonian laws against witchcraft; and this upon the ground that the authority of these laws, ceased with the first charter. The law then upon which Mrs. Bishop was tried was a dead letter; it was revived, and in two days after she was hung. A strange and startling mistake by men who had charge of the lives and fortunes of the people. So difficult is the art of just government.

No wonder then that Sir William, five days after this witch execution, asked council of the leading ministers of the colony in form. And the response drawn up by Cotton Mather is as follows: “The afflicted state of our poor neighbors, now suffering by molestations from the invisible world, we apprehend, is so deplorable that we think their condition calls for the utmost help of all persons in their several capacities. Yet we acknowledge with thankfulness the success, which the merciful God has given to the sedulous endeavors of our honorable rulers, to defeat the abominable witchcrafts which have been committed in the country. We judge that in the prosecution of these, and all such witchcrafts, there is need of exquisite caution, lest too much credulity for things, resting only on the devil’s authority, should enable him to get an advantage over us; for we should not be ignorant of his devices. All things should be managed with exceeding tenderness towards those complained of, especially if they be persons heretofore of unblemished reputation. Nor is the circumstance of the accused being represented by spectre to the afflicted a sufficient ground for conviction; for it is an undoubted thing, that a demon may, by God’s permission, appear for ill purposes in the shape of an innocent, yea and a virtuous man.”

“We know not, however, but some remarkable affronts given to devils, by our disbelieving their testimonies, may not put a period to the progress of the dreadful calamity now among us in the accusation of so many persons for witchcraft.”

But lastly say the ministers to Sir William: “We cannot but humbly recommend unto the government the speedy and vigorous prosecutions of such as have rendered themselves obnoxious to the laws of God and the wholesome statutes of the English nation in the detection of witchcraft.” This document was dated Boston, June 16th, 1692, and signed by the principal ministers of the province, and unfortunately for the country the government seemed to heed only the last clause of the device, as will be seen hereafter.

A quorum of Sir William’s commissioners again sat at Salem on the 30th of June, for the trial of witches; Lieut. Gov. Stoughton, and Messrs. Winthrop, Sewall, and Gidney being present, and on that day they commenced the trial of Susanna Martin of Amesbury.

She was a woman of uncommon ingenuity and enterprise; and was now a widow, with the care of a considerable estate, and a large family thrown upon her. She, like Bishop, had long been reputed a witch, and an unsuccessful attempt had once been made to convict her. Mather in his account of her case, drawn up by order of the government, declares, “that she was one of the most impudent, scurrilous, wicked creatures in the world,” and the court treated her with great severity. But she repelled all false charges with invincible spirit; as will be seen by the following dialogue which took place at her primary examination, and which was now detailed in evidence against her.

Justice.―Pray Goody Martin, what ails these young people? Martin.―I don’t know. J.―But what do you think ails them? M.―I do not desire to think upon the subject. J.―Do you not think they are bewitched? M.―No, I do not think they are. J.―Tell us your thoughts about them then. M.―My thoughts are my own when they are in; but when they are out they are another’s―their master! J.―Their master! Who do you think is their master? M.―If they be dealing in witchcraft, Sir, you may know as well as I. J.―Well, mistress Martin, what have you done towards these girls? M.―I have done nothing at all. J.―Why it is either you or your spectre. M.―I cannot help what my spectre does. J.―It is either you or your master. How comes it that your spectre should hurt these people? M.―How do I know how it comes? Samuel was a glorified saint; but he that appeared to Saul, in Samuel’s shape may now appear in any one’s shape. A very pertinent reply and puzzled the justice. Martin was indicted for witchcraft and sorceries upon the body of Mary Walcott on the second day of May, 1692, and also for divers other acts of witchcraft before and after that time, without specification of time or place. John Allen testified, that the widow Martin once requested him to cart some staves for her, but he refused because his cattle were weak and poor; at which she was displeased and said he would be sorry for it; and before he could reach home his oxen tired and fell down. This was supposed to be by witchcraft, though Allen said the oxen were too weak to draw staves. After this he turned them upon Salisbury beach to fatten, but they became so wild that no one could approach them, and when it was attempted to drive them home they ran furiously into the sea and were drowned. Another witness purchased a cow of Martin’s son; she opposed the bargain, and soon the animal became furious and unmanageable. And these were considered cases of witchcraft.

Bernard Peach testified, that once being in bed on a Sabbath night, the widow Martin came into his room through the window, and seizing him, drew up his body into a heap and she then lay upon him about two hours, but at last after a severe struggle he got two of her fingers between his teeth and bit them until she cried out with the pain and vanished. At another time when she was after him he struck her or her spectre with his quarter-staff and it was reported that she was wounded on the head. So it was sworn that she once travelled from Amesbury to Newbury on a rainy day without wetting even the soles of her feet, and boasted that she scorned to be drabbed. It was concluded in court that the devil helped her on.

But the most wonderful story told on this occasion was that of Joseph Ring; the man seems to have been a good fiddler, whom the old charter witches and demons selected for their peculiar use and amusement. He testified that for two years past he had been strangely carried about through the air to witch revels and dances; that for a long time they had kept him dumb, but since they began to be prosecuted he had in a measure recovered his speech. His knowledge of them and their power over him, began thus:

As he sat in his house one day, a stranger of suspicious mien applied to him to give music to a company of dancers on a certain evening; and whilst the timid and distrustful fiddler hesitated, the proffer of a large sum of money by the stranger, and which he too readily accepted, induced him to make the desired promise and immediately the man vanished so suddenly that Ring was exceedingly startled and repented of what he had done; but it was too late. At the appointed hour he found a horse, well caparisoned, standing at his door; he took the hint, but no sooner had he mounted into the saddle, than the animal leaped into the air and pushed forward with a velocity which deprived him of all consciousness of time or distance and almost of existence itself. He next found himself in front of a splendid building, with lights from every part streaming out upon night’s darkness, but from whence issued no sound of mirth or festivity. Presently Goodman Ring was introduced into a spacious hall, he screwed up his fiddle, began to play, and then the dancing began in good earnest. At once a preternatural influence came over him, and he was amazed at the power of his own instrument, which seemed to fill that ample hall to its very roof, and to inspire dancing which he now plainly saw was superhuman. It was here that he saw the widow Martin, the prisoner at the bar, swinging and dancing among the revellers, like a nimble maiden of eighteen; and he was willing to swear to her identity.

When the dancing ceased, the personage who first engaged him came with a book for him to sign, and an ink horn containing something like blood. But the fiddler refused his name, and casting his eyes downward he saw that cloven foot which had been the terror of all New England for half a century, and in his distress he called upon God for help. At once a horrid hysteric laugh burst upon his ears, and then suddenly all was darkness, and he found himself in the crotch of a great pine tree, cold and comfortless, in a lonely plain, and the stars of midnight winking down upon him. He descended as well as he could, wandered about in the woods until morning light, and then found his way home; but he could never again find that pine tree that made the witch palace.

From that time forth the witches and demons had power over him and used him as they pleased. And Mather says “that whenever he was brought unto their hellish meetings, and showed any disobedience one of the first thing they did unto him was, to give him a knock on the back, whereupon he was ever as if bound with chains, incapable of stirring out of the place till they should release him.”

After this strange testimony was in, the court asked Martin what she had to say for herself. She replied that she had always led a virtuous and holy life, that she knew nothing of the crime whereof she was accused, and she protested against the proceedings and the evidence against her. Yet the jury soon returned a verdict of guilty, and the court pronounced sentence of death. On the following day Elizabeth Howe was tried. The evidence against her was very similar to that against Martin. She was of Ipswich, and first became noted as a witch by an abortive attempt to join the church in that place, which led to an investigation of her character, and brought out her witchcrafts. This woman it was thought had a burning witch bridle, which tortured any horse that wore it to efforts beyond its strength; it would also turn to a horse any man or beast on whom it was placed. Isaac Cammins swore that he had a very spirited mare, which he believed Howe used freely in her witch frolics. The mare grew sick and weak without apparent cause, and upon examination she seemed bruised and lamed as if rapidly ridden over rocks and rough places, and the marks of the burning witch bridle were visible upon her; nay, she was found so sulphurious that, the owner passing near her one night in the stable with his lantern, she took fire, and emitted a blue brimstone blaze, fine as a knitting needle, and which singed her own hair and endangered the barn. The beast died soon after in strange spasms. It further appeared by the confessing witches that Goody Howe was one of those who had been baptized by the devil at Newbury Falls, and before which baptism he made them all kneel down by the river’s brink and worship him.

Elizabeth Howe was indicted for witchcraft upon Mary Walcott and Mary Lewis; the jury returned her guilty and the court sentenced her to death.

At this same session were also tried Sarah Good, Rebecca Nurse and Sarah Wilde, and found guilty.

On the 19th of July these five were executed. At the gallows Noyes urged Sarah Good to confess, and told her she was a witch and she knew it; to which she replied: “Sir, you are a liar; I am no more a witch than you are a wizard, and if you take my life God will give you blood to drink.”

Stoughton and his associates were now the terror and scourge of the country. On the fifth of August they sat at Salem. Six unresisting and helpless females they had already hung without law or crime; and whose terror-stricken kindred dare not raise even a murmur of discontent. Indeed so subdued appeared the public mind, that they now adventured upon the trial of the Rev. George Burroughs, the only gospel teacher ever hung for witchcraft in this or any other Christian country. He had formerly been the settled minister of Salem village, and now an avowed infidel in the current notions of witchcraft. The Rev. Mr. Lawson, also once a teacher in the same place, was more pliant, and wrote a book flattering to the afflicted and their managers; had Burrows followed his example he might have escaped hanging.

Warily indeed did the prosecutors cast their entanglements about this devoted man. We first see a fictitious witch sacrament, with appropriate deacons;―next a clergyman, black-haired, short and thick set, with the devil to administer. All knew that this aimed at Burroughs. Then eight confessing witches affirmed that so great was his fidelity and zeal, that he was to be a king in Satan’s kingdom about to be established in Massachusetts. They multiplied his indictments to four; for afflicting those four bloody impostors, Mary Walcott, Elizabeth Hobart, Mary Lewis and Ann Putnam. And he stood before a prejudiced court and jury without hope of justice, or even of compassion.

The afflicted began their evidence with fits and outcries. They said Burroughs bit them, and showed what they alleged were the prints of his teeth on their flesh; and Ann Putnam said that even now his spectre presented her the devil’s book, boasting that he was above the ordinary rank of witches. Again they were cast into convulsions and could not proceed. Stoughton asked Burroughs, who he thought hindered those witnesses from testifying. He replied, perhaps it was the devil. “How comes the devil,” said his Honor, “so loth to have any testimony borne against you?” A foul response, but in keeping with his general conduct.