Chapter V: Varney, Thomas, ii. 306 (14)

"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.

"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.

"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.

"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.

"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.

"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.

"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.

"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.

"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.

"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.

"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.

"Jo. Tucker affirmeth that Powell said to him, he saw the boy throw the shoe while he was at prayer.

"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.

"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.

"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.

"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.

"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.

"Taken on oath, March 29, 1680, before me,

"Jo: Woodbridge, _Commissioner_.

"Mary Richardson confirmed the truth of the above written testimony, on 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:—

"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.

"Referred to Mr. Woodbridge to examine and determine the charges." [i.449]

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 Court held at Ipswich, the 30th of March, 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."

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:—

At a Court of Assistants, on adjournment, held at Boston, on the 20th of May, 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 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.

William Torrey, _Clerk_."

The action of the magistrates, on this reference, is recorded as follows:—

"3d of November, 1680.—Not consented to by magistrates.

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.

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."

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 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.

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."

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.

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.

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.

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:—

"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."

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—

"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."

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?"

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.

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.

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 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."

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

END OF VOL. I.

Go to Volume II

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.

[B] For a thorough discussion of the several Hebrew words that relate 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.

[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."

[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.

VOLUME II.

The Philip English House

THE PHILIP ENGLISH HOUSE.—Vol. II., 142.

[ii.1] 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.

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'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.

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:—