The beautiful month of June was now spreading its green ornaments over
the face of New England. Never did the early summer unfold a more
luxuriant foliage, or cover the fields with a fresher beauty, than
that which now adorned the land. The forests and gardens were vocal
with the music of birds, the rose and violet came forth in unwonted
fragrance, and a cloud of incense went up from every valley and hill,
to the praise of their Creator and Lord. The world of nature was moving
on in perfect harmony and beauty. But the world of mind was in ruins,
its stately palaces had fallen, Reason was dethroned, and a dark
mass of chaotic elements moved over its surface in mingled confusion
and horror. Spirits of evil were riding on the blast, unnatural and
distorted shapes occupied every field of thought and reflection, and
Superstition held in her mighty grasp whatever element opposed her
power, and scowled in triumph and scorn over a perverted understanding
and a misguided conscience.
On the 10th of June, 1692, the first victim of this mournful delusion
died at the scaffold and by the hands of the public executioner. Her
indictment stated, that she had made a covenant with Satan, and in
obedience thereto, was engaged in the practice of wicked arts, to
the great annoyance of godly persons. The nature of these practices
was described at length, and consisted in the infusion of wicked and
devilish thoughts into minds hitherto pure and uncorrupt, in the
infliction of sharp pains on the hands, the neck and the limbs of the
sufferer, in various temptations to assist the devil in his nefarious
designs upon the peace and order of society, and in promises of future
rewards if the party would consent to become a subject and servant of
Satan.
A company of nervous and agitated witnesses supported the indictment,
by testifying to the power she exerted over their minds and bodies,
and the wild actings of their own fanaticism, and its physical
effects, were imputed by them to a mysterious energy derived by the
supposed witch from the master of apostate spirits. On such evidence
as this, she was condemned by the highest court in New England, and,
by a sentence most unjust and cruel, was consigned to an ignominious
death. As the multitude, who witnessed the execution, retired from
the dreadful spectacle, it was only to tremble for themselves and for
each other: even the pleadings of mercy and the voice of pity were
suppressed, and those who dared to intimate a belief in opposition to
the prevalent opinions, were the first to be suspected and arrested.
On the evening of this day, two persons were seen on their way to the
house of Mr. Parris, the clergyman of Danvers, at that time called
'Salem village.' One of these was a young man of genteel appearance,
and the other a female, whose dress was that of a country maiden, but
whose sharp countenance and cunning, selfish aspect denoted that she
was intelligent beyond her apparent condition. The conversation was
earnest and vehement on both sides; and as they approached the house,
the slowness of their pace indicated that their plans, or purposes,
were not fully matured.
'This business looks too serious to me,' said the female; 'I hardly
dare undertake it. Miss Graham must be innocent; and how can I be the
cause of her death?'
'Did you not say,' said Trellison, 'that she had been the cause of
constant torment and vexation, that she controlled your movements, and
by a look suspended your purposes; that in her presence, you would weep
or smile, without any cause whatever? Moreover, did you not see her at
that cursed sacrament of devils, where every vow is sealed by blood,
and where she solemnly ratified the hellish compact? What are all these
but proofs of her damnable affinity with Satan? You cannot go back. The
Lord requires your service, and it must be done.'
'But, Mr. Trellison,' replied the female, 'if I take this course, what
will become of me? I shall be shunned by the good; and if Miss Graham
is acquitted, where shall I find recompense and security?'
'Have I not told you of recompense? Is it nothing to free the world
from the possessed of Satan? Is it nothing to foil the great adversary
of soul and body? Is it nothing to free yourself from these annoyances?
Is it nothing, Clarissa, to save your own life?'
'My own life--what is that worth, Mr. Trellison, if the mind is loaded
with conscious guilt? Even now, I start at every shadow, and imagine a
foe in every one I meet. And what is the amount of this victory over
Satan, as you call it? Why it seems to me, such a victory would be
my ruin. But I have started in the race, and fate seems to press me
onward. I may be doing God service. Will you, Mr. Trellison, pledge
yourself that my reward shall be reasonable and sure?'
'I have pledged my word, and the assurances of all the faithful are
yours, that whatever injury any one suffers in this righteous cause,
shall be fully recompensed. You shall be rewarded.'
They now separated as they approached the house, and Clarissa, who
had been fully instructed in the part she was to act, entered the
kitchen, and took her place with the servant, with whom she had long
been acquainted. Trellison, as he entered the parlor, saw Mr. Parris,
through an open door, seated in his library alone. They had long been
familiar acquaintances, and though the clergyman was many years his
senior, yet he was fully aware of the reputation of his friend for
piety, and had known him personally since his first entrance at Harvard
College. After some desultory conversation, the mournful events of the
day were called up, and Mr. Parris remarked, that he looked back upon
its scenes with extreme agitation and horror. 'Surely, Mr. Trellison,'
said he, 'it was a dreadful sacrifice. But how could it be avoided?'
'It was a sacrifice well pleasing to the Lord,' said Trellison. 'Why
start, Mr. Parris, at the sternness of the divine command? Must our
pity overcome our sense of obligation?'
'No indeed,' said Mr. Parris; 'and here is the bitterness of the trial.
He that putteth his hand to the plough, is forbidden to look back: but
how can I behold such misery without a tear of pity?'
'When Abraham was commanded to slay his son,' said Trellison, 'he
laid him on the altar and took the knife in his hand. Was there any
misgiving? Doubtless pity moved his heart; but his hand was true to the
divine mandate, and he only forbore at the express command of God.'
'But are we equally sure, that God commands us to this work of
violence? Might we not by prayer disarm the Tempter, and drive him from
our midst?'
'Faith without works is dead; and how can we expect the blessing of
God, but in the use of means? Shall Satan rage in our land, and the
servant of God remain idle at his post? Every thing depends on the
energy and zeal with which this arch-apostate is hunted and driven from
his hiding places; and those, who harbor him and practice his wicked
devices, must perish without mercy.'
'True, most true, Mr. Trellison: forgive the momentary, the sinful
pity, which would, if indulged, unnerve my hand, and draw me back from
the service of God. I would not shrink from my duty; but I am startled
and confounded at the numbers who have engaged in this cursed league
with Satan. They must be punished. You are aware, that a society has
recently been formed for the discovery and punishment of witches. This
scroll was brought to me to-day by a member, and all the persons on
this list will be watched, and probably most of them arrested. If you
know of other cases, where the charges can be supported by competent
evidence, it will be my duty to present them to the society.'
Trellison took the list, which contained the names of seven or eight
persons. Most of these had long been suspected; but the last name on
the scroll was that of one, whose blameless life and holy profession
had hitherto given him a high rank in the community. It was the Rev.
George Burroughs, a minister of the gospel, of the same religious faith
as that of Mather, Parris and their associates, and perfectly exemplary
in his deportment and conversation.
'And has it come to this?' said Trellison. 'Oh, the power of these
hellish arts, that have profaned even the house of God, and turned the
servant of Christ to a minister of Satan! But I can hardly credit what
you say. Is the proof convincing?'
'Perfectly so,' said Mr. Parris. 'He was Satan's minister at that
dreadful sacrament, in which most of those now in prison bound
themselves to his service by their own signature, under the bloody
seal. Moreover, he has the promise of being a prince in Satan's
kingdom; and he took one of those faithful maidens, who have put their
lives in jeopardy for the service of God, and carried her to a high
mountain, where, after the fashion of his master, he showed her the
glory of the world, and promised to give her all, if she would but
sign her name. But she wisely told him, those things were not his to
give, and refused to sign. Such is the evidence against Mr. Burroughs.
There is no alternative; we have canvassed the whole matter, and he
must die.'
'So perish all the enemies of the Lord!' said Trellison. 'And now, Mr.
Parris, there is yet one name to be added to that gloomy catalogue.
Until now, I have not been nerved with strength to go forward in this
divine work, and while my heart rebels at every step and my whole frame
is convulsed with agony, I pronounce the name of Mary Graham.'
Mr. Parris started from his seat. 'Such a name, and from you, Mr.
Trellison?'
'Tremble not, my friend, nor wonder at what seems so strange. I have
had such revelations from the Lord, such experience of her dreadful
compact with the Prince of darkness, and such proofs from others who
know her well, that, upon the peril of my soul, I dare not disobey a
voice louder than seven thunders to my ears. Miss Graham is bound over
to Satan!'
'I cannot credit your assertions, Mr. Trellison: Miss Graham is above
all suspicion. If such a mind is affected by this dreadful influence,
who of us shall escape?'
'Nevertheless you must,' said Trellison. 'I was once held in bondage
by her magic arts: but, thanks to God, my soul is now at liberty;
escaped, as a bird out of the snare of the fowler. But others are still
entangled in her yoke of bondage, and they must be liberated. Some of
our students have fallen under her power, and under this roof is one
who is daily persecuted by her devices. Clarissa Snow, the faithful
servant of Mr. Ellerson, is now here, and will tell you in person what
she has suffered.'
'Oh, righteous God!' said Mr. Parris, 'spare me this heavy blow! let
not thy wrath wax hot against thy servant; and if this work of judgment
must proceed, consign it, I beseech thee, to other hands, and let no
more blood be found in my skirts!'
'What means this language?' said Trellison. 'Has not God vouchsafed
to you his peculiar presence and blessing? has he not revealed to you
these mysteries of iniquity, and made you the honored instrument of
bringing to light the hidden things of darkness? will you pause in the
work to which he calls you?
'I cannot pause,' replied Mr. Parris; 'but I know not how to proceed.
Once more, I appeal to Heaven for the rectitude of my purposes; and if
I am the chosen instrument to sweep the chaff from his threshing floor,
I can only say--Oh God, thy will be done! let me not turn back from
this work; let me not blench in this terrible conflict with the powers
of darkness; let me not turn my hand from the shedding of blood, till a
voice from the excellent Glory tells me to forbear!'
'And now,' he added, 'your testimony shall be examined, and if it be
such as the revelations of God to my own soul shall approve, Miss
Graham, whatever may be the consequences, must be arrested.'
In a few moments, Clarissa was introduced, and to the several questions
that were asked, she replied in such a manner as confirmed the
statements of Trellison. She complained of various torments in the
presence of Miss Graham, which torments ceased when she was absent.
She also complained of dark purposes and evil thoughts, which always
vanished when Miss Graham was out of sight.
It is not necessary to repeat more, for the credulous clergyman was
easily convinced; and moreover, these results accorded with those
inward revelations which to him were conclusive evidence of her guilt;
and he now, though with a trembling hand, added her name to the list of
victims.
This was but the first step in the dark machinations of Trellison.
He knew the ground he occupied was treacherous: but confiding in the
strength of the public delusion, and perhaps believing, in part, he
was doing God service, he was emboldened to proceed and carry on his
designs of blood. In the picture, which the conversation we have
related gives of his character, the lines are deepened to an uncommon
shade of guilt. But in the midst of the revenge he sought, there were
feelings of gloomy fanaticism, which probably concealed from his own
view the enormity of his purposes, and even clothed them with a false
lustre. He was a believer in these compacts with Satan; and the very
unaccountable testimony of credible witnesses had led him to look upon
those who practiced witchcraft, as persons who must be cut off, and the
land be purged, in this way, from the demons who had broken loose upon
it. Yet in the midst of all, there must have been moments, when the
accuser Conscience broke in upon his refuge of lies, and upbraided him
with a purpose, which came nearer to the acts of Satan, than any which
visible evidence had yet developed.