PROGRESS OF THE TRIAL.
The old minister sat down, shading his face with both hands; then, in
his place stood Elizabeth, pale, thin, wild. The shadow of her former
beauty seemed hanging around her like a shroud.
When she saw her lover standing close to Barbara Stafford, a faint glow
stole over her cheek, as if a peach blossom had blown across it, leaving
its reflection behind.
The judge lifted his head and looked kindly upon her. The jury whispered
together, and cast pitying glances that way; and through all that vast
crowd a thrill of sympathy ran.
Poor girl! she was sincere as a child, earnest as a woman. She told of
the power of love and hate which Barbara Stafford had attained over her;
how, in her absence, the most bitter dislike filled her bosom, but when
Barbara's eyes were upon her, or her voice in her ear, a sweet revulsion
followed, and she was like a babe, or a slave, in the woman's presence.
She spoke of the time when Barbara came to the parsonage at Salem, of
the strange effect it had upon Abby Williams, and the more terrible
results to herself. Then she said the presence of this woman became a
torture. When she spoke, a knife pierced her heart; when she smiled,
lurid fire seemed creeping over her brain. At last, her entire being was
given up to the sorceress, whose power filled her room with strange
shapes, that tormented the sleep from her eyes, and all peace from her
heart. She was better now. The prayers of her Christian father had
emancipated her; but the judges might see by her pale face, and thin
hands, how fatally the curse had fastened on her life.
"Had she seen no further proof of the infernal powers of the prisoner?"
"Yes. One morning, just at daylight, while standing at her bedroom
window, she saw what seemed to be the figure of Barbara Stafford, riding
out of the forest on a white horse. She turned her eyes away for a
moment, and, lo! the horse was gone, and the woman stood on the green
sward alone. Determined to satisfy herself if it was in reality a witch
spirit, or the woman in person, she went into Barbara Stafford's chamber
and found her in bed and asleep. Old Tituba could bear testimony to
this, for she also went into the prisoner's room, and saw her lying on
the bed so buried in slumber that all the noise they made on entering
did not arouse her. As for the white horse, she saw it as plainly, with
that woman on its back, as she ever saw the sun at mid-day."
This was the evidence of Elizabeth Parris. She laid all the pains of her
jealous heart open to the judges, and in the natural agony of disturbed
love they read only the power of witchcraft. Reticent from the exquisite
delicacy which made her susceptible to so much pain, she did not mention
Norman Lovel in her evidence; thus, all clue to the origin of her
suffering was concealed.
When her evidence was complete, Elizabeth fainted, and was borne from
the court in the arms of Norman Lovel, who, touched by her gentleness
and her innocent confession, sprang forward to save her from falling.
Governor Phipps appeared as the third witness, and it was remarked that,
for the first time that day, Barbara Stafford became greatly agitated;
her lips, hitherto serenely closed, began to quiver; her eyes dilated,
and the blue tints deepened under them. When he spoke, her hands clasped
and unclasped themselves, nervously, under her shawl. Once she arose and
looked around, as if tempted to fly into the open air.
But the constable laid his heavy hand on her, reminding her that she was
a prisoner. She looked in his face with a bewildered stare, remembered
what she was, and sat down with a dreary smile about her lips.
Sir William Phipps was also greatly agitated. He had been summoned by
the court, and with proud humility obeyed its behests.
"To the best of his remembrance," he said, "he had never met the
prisoner but three times in his life: once at his own door, when, by
mistake, he for a moment thought her to be Lady Phipps."
Here a low moan broke from the neighborhood of the prisoner; but, if it
came from her, the anguish to which it gave voice was instantly
suppressed.
Barbara was looking at the witness. The light fell on his face, but hers
was in shadow, still and white like that of a marble statue.
"Yes, for a moment," he resumed, "he had mistaken the prisoner for his
wife, and in the darkness held her to his bosom for a single moment;
during that brief time, a strange swell heaved at his heart, and took
away his breath; it subsided into a heavy pain, which hung about him for
days, though the woman had departed before he could look upon her face,
and he had not heard the sound of her voice. This pain had seized him
once before while he stood in that sacred building, with the sacramental
wine at his lips; and he was informed afterwards that the prisoner had
entered the house just as he took the goblet in his hand. Again her
supernatural influence--for he could account for these sensations no
other way--had been exerted on him as he entered her place of
confinement, for such was the compassion she inspired, had it rested
with him, his own hands would have been impelled to open her prison
doors and set her free."
As the governor uttered these words, Barbara Stafford's eyes filled with
tears, and a glow of exquisite tenderness softened her face. She drew a
deep breath, and then the tears began to drop, large and fast, from her
eyes, as if her very heart were breaking.
Unimportant as the governor's evidence might seem in these days, it had
a powerful effect upon the court. He was known among the people as a
stern, proud man, cold as steel, but just beyond question, even to the
sacrificing of his own life, had it been forfeited to the law. That he
should be influenced to such tenderness of compassion, against his
reason, and in spite of himself, was, to the people who listened, deeper
proofs of witchcraft than the facts to which Samuel Parris had sworn. He
was known as a tender-hearted, visionary old man, half poet, half
philosopher, by all the country round. But the governor--whoever
supposed that sentiment or imagination could cloud his clear judgment?
Thus, though the governor was guarded in his evidence, which to men less
influenced by superstition would have been nothing, it bore heavily
against the unhappy woman looking at him so wistfully through her
blinding tears.
After this, Norman Lovel was brought to the stand, sorely against his
will, for though, in the depths of his soul, he was satisfied that the
influence which the noble woman possessed was only such as God always
lends to true greatness, he could not, after those who had gone before,
urge his convictions on the court, and alas! the facts he had no power
to contradict: they were even as Samuel Parris had sworn them to be.
When Barbara Stafford saw his troubled look, she beckoned him toward
her, and before the constable could interfere, bade him be of good
courage and speak the truth, trusting her with the Lord.
It could not have been otherwise. He did speak the truth, and his very
efforts to explain and soften the facts which Samuel Parris had stated,
only served to prejudice the jury more deeply. These astute men
brightened up, and crowding their heads close together, whispered that
it was easy to see the influence of the beautiful witch strong upon him,
and, therefore, his words must be weighed with grave caution, as coming
directly from the father of lies.
Then Abigail Williams came forward, but her evidence was clearly in
favor of the prisoner. She disclaimed all impressions of evil obtained
from the accused lady, so far as she was concerned. She admitted that a
sudden and great cause of grief had fallen upon her--that she had been
influenced against her friends, and suffered greatly by day and by
night, but Barbara Stafford was not the cause; of her she only knew what
was feminine and good. When questioned regarding the sources of her
knowledge, and of her estrangement, she refused to speak. So the judges,
after consulting together, drew a proof of Barbara's power from her
perverse silence. How was it to be expected that the witness could bear
unprejudicial evidence while the glance of the prisoner was upon her?