The Circle in the Minister's House.
It would, perhaps be unfair to hold the Reverend Master Parris
responsible for the wild doings that went on in the parsonage house
during the winter evenings of 1691-2, in the face of his solemn
assertion, made several years afterwards, that he was ignorant of them.
And yet, how could such things have been without the knowledge either of
himself or his wife? Mistress Parris has come down to us with the
reputation of a kindly and discreet woman--nothing having been said to
her discredit, so far as I am aware, even by those who had a bitter
controversy with her husband. And yet she certainly must have known of
the doings of the famous "circle," even if she refrained from speaking
of them to her husband.
At the very bottom of the whole thing, perhaps, were the West Indian
slaves--"John Indias" and his wife Tituba, whom Master Parris had
brought with him from Barbados. There were two children in the house, a
little daughter of nine, named Elizabeth; and Abigail Williams, three
years older. These very probably, Tituba often had sought to impress, as
is the manner of negro servants, with tales of witchcraft, the
"evil-eye" and "evil hand" spirits, powwowing, etc. Ann Putnam, another
precocious child of twelve, the daughter of a near neighbor, Sergeant
Putnam, the parish clerk, also was soon drawn into the knowledge of the
savage mysteries. And, before very long, a regular "circle" of these and
older girls was formed for the purpose of amusing and startling
themselves with the investigation and performance of forbidden things.
At the present day this would not be so reprehensible. We are
comparatively an unbelieving generation; and what are called "spiritual
circles" are common, though not always unattended with mischievous
results. But at that time when it was considered a deadly sin to seek
intercourse with those who claimed to have "a familiar spirit," that
such practices should be allowed to go on for a whole winter, in the
house of a Puritan minister, seems unaccountable. But the fact itself is
undoubted, and the consequences are written in mingled tears and blood
upon the saddest pages of the history of New England.
Among the members of this "circle" were Mary Walcott, aged seventeen,
the daughter of Captain Walcott; Elizabeth Hubbard and Mercy Lewis, also
seventeen; Elizabeth Booth and Susannah Sheldon, aged eighteen; and Mary
Warren, Sarah Churchhill and Leah Herrick, aged twenty; these latter
being the oldest of the party. They were all the daughters of
respectable and even leading men, with the exception of Mercy Lewis,
Mary Warren, Leah Herrick and Sarah Churchhill, who were living out as
domestics, but who seem to have visited as friends and equals the other
girls in the village. In fact, it was not considered at that time
degrading in country neighborhoods--perhaps it is not so now in many
places--for the sons and daughters of men of respectability, and even of
property, to occupy the position of "help" or servant, eating at the
same table with, and being considered members of the family. In the case
before us, Mercy Lewis, Mary Warren and Sarah Churchhill seem to have
been among the most active and influential members of the party. Though
Abigail Williams, the minister's niece, and Ann Putnam, only eleven and
twelve years of age respectively, proved themselves capable of an
immense deal of mischief.
What the proceedings of these young women actually were, neither
tradition nor any records that I have met with, informs us; but the
result was even worse than could have been expected. By the close of the
winter they had managed to get their nervous systems, their
imaginations, and their minds and hearts, into a most dreadful
condition. If they had regularly sold themselves to be the servants of
the Evil One, as was then universally believed to be possible--and which
may really be possible, for anything I know to the contrary--their
condition could hardly have been worse than it was. They were liable to
sudden faintings of an unnatural character, to spasmodic movements and
jerkings of the head and limbs, to trances, to the seeing of witches and
devils, to deafness, to dumbness, to alarming outcries, to impudent and
lying speeches and statements, and to almost everything else that was
false, irregular and unnatural.
Some of these things were doubtless involuntary but the voluntary and
involuntary seemed to be so mingled in their behavior, that it was
difficult sometimes to determine which was one and which the other. The
moral sense seemed to have become confused, if not utterly lost for the
time.
They were full of tricks. They stuck concealed pins into their bodies,
and accused others of doing it--their contortions and trances were to a
great extent mere shams--they lied without scruple--they bore false
witness, and what in many, if not most, cases they knew was false
witness, against not only those to whom they bore ill will but against
the most virtuous and kindly women of the neighborhood; and if the
religious delusion had taken another shape, and we see no reason why it
should not have done so, and put the whole of them on trial as seekers
after "familiar spirits" and condemned the older girls to death, there
would at least have been some show of justice in the proceedings; while,
as it is, there is not a single ray of light to illuminate the judicial
gloom.
When at last Mr. Parris and Thomas Putnam became aware of the condition
of their children, they called in the village physician, Dr. Griggs. The
latter, finding he could do nothing with his medicines, gave it as his
opinion that they were "under an evil hand"--the polite medical phrase
of that day, for being bewitched.
That important point being settled, the next followed of course, "Who
has bewitched them?" The children being asked said, "Tituba."