Dulcibel's Life in Prison.
Dulcibel's life in prison was of course a very monotonous one. She did
not suffer however as did many other women of equally gentle nature. In
the jails of Ipswich, Boston and Cambridge, there were keepers who
conformed in most cases strictly to the law. In many instances delicate
and weakly women, often of advanced years, were chained, hands and feet,
with heavy irons, night and day.
But Robert Foster and his son, who assisted him as under-keeper, while
indulging before the marshal and the constables in the utmost violence
and severity of language, and who were supposed to be strict enforcers
of all the instructions received from the magistrates, were as we have
seen, at heart, very liberal and kind-hearted men. And the only fear the
prisoners had, was that they would throw up their positions some day in
disgust. Uncle Robie often declared to Dulcibel that he would, when she
was once fairly out of the clutches of her enemies.
Every now and then instructions would come to jailer Foster from one of
the magistrates--generally Squire Hathorne--to put heavier irons on some
one of the prisoners, whose spectre was still tormenting the "afflicted
girls." It being generally held that the more heavily you chained a
witch, the less able she was to afflict her victims. And at these times
Master Foster would get out his heaviest irons, parade them before the
eyes of the constables, declare in a fierce tone what he was about to
do, get the constable off on one pretext or another--and do nothing.
It was thought best and wisest for neither Master Joseph Putnam nor
Master Raymond to seek many interviews with Dulcibel; the means of
intercourse between the two lovers being restricted to little notes,
which goodwife Buckley, who frequently visited the maiden, transmitted
from one to the other through the agency of either her husband or of
Joseph Putnam. This kept them both in heart; and Dulcibel being
sustained by the frequent assurances of her lover's devotion, and by the
hope of escape, kept the roses of her cheeks in marvelous bloom during
her close confinement.
One of the constables, who managed to get sight of her one day through
the half-opened door of her cell, expressed surprise to the jailer that
she should still look so blooming, considering the weight of the heavy
chains to which she was continually subjected.
"And why should not the young witch look so?" replied the jailer. "Is
not her spectre riding around on that devil's mare half the night, and
having a good time of it?"
The constable assented to this view of the case; and his suspicions, if
he had any, were quieted. In fact even Squire Hathorne himself probably
would have been perfectly satisfied with an explanation of so undeniable
a character.
Of course it was not considered prudent by Uncle Robie, that the
furniture or general appearance of Dulcibel's cell should be changed in
the least for the better. Not even a bunch of flowers that Goodwife
Buckley once brought to Dulcibel, could be allowed to remain there.
While in a corner of the cell, lay the heavy chains which, if the
marshal or one of the magistrates, should insist upon seeing the
prisoner, could be slipped on her wrists and ankles in a few minutes.
Fortunately, however, for Dulcibel, the interest of all these was now
centered upon the trials that were in progress, the contumacious
obstinacy of Giles Corey, the host of new accusations at Ipswich and
other neighboring places, and the preparations for the execution of
those already condemned to death.
If they had a passing thought of the young witch Dulcibel Burton, it was
that her time would come rapidly around in its turn, when speedy justice
no doubt would be done to her.
As to Antipas, her faithful servitor, he had relapsed again into his old
staidness and sobriety in the comparative quietude of the prison. Only
on the day of Giles Corey's execution had the prevailing excitement
attending that event, and which naturally affected the constables and
jailers, made him raging. To pass the constable's inspection, as well as
for his own safety, the jailer had chained him; but his voice could be
heard ringing through the closed door of his cell at intervals from
morning till evening.
The burden of his thoughts seemed to be a blending of denunciation and
exultation. The predictions of the four Quakers executed many years
before on Boston common, and those of men and women who had been whipped
at the cart's tail through the towns of the colony, evidently seemed to
him in progress of fulfillment:--
"They have torn the righteous to pieces; now the judgment is upon them,
and they are tearing each other! Woe to the bloody towns of Boston and
Salem and Ipswich! Satan is let loose by the Lord upon them! They have
slain the saints, they have supped full of innocent blood; now the blood
of their own sons, their own daughters, is filling the cup of God's
vengeance! They have tortured the innocent women, the innocent
children--and banished them and sold them to the Philistines as slaves.
But the Lord will avenge His own elect! They are given up to believe a
lie! The persecutors are persecuting each other! They are pressing each
other to death beneath heavy stones! They are hanging each other on the
gallows of Haman! Where they hung the innocent, they are hanging
themselves! Oh, God! avenge now the blood of thy Saints! As they have
done, let it be done unto them! Whip and kill! Whip and kill! Ha! ha!
ha!"--and with a blood-curdling laugh that rang through the narrow
passages of the prison, the insane old man would fall down for a time on
his bed exhausted.
That was an awful day, both outside and inside the prison--for all the
prisoners knew what a savage death old Giles Corey was meeting. It
seemed to Dulcibel afterwards, that if she had not been sustained by the
power of love, and a hopeful looking forward to other scenes, she must
have herself gone crazy during that and the other evil days that were
upon them. To some of the prisoners, the most fragile and sensitive
ones, even the hour of their execution seemed to come as a relief.
Anything, to get outside of those close dark cells--and to make an end
of it!