One more case--not of an accused one, but of a chief accuser, Ann Putnam,
the younger--merits careful attention. She was only twelve years old in
1692; but was the eldest child in a family of at least nine children, both
of whose parents died while they were all young; and this eldest continued
to live at the homestead, caring for the younger ones, during many years.
In August, 1706, fourteen years subsequent to the scenes in which she was
eminently conspicuous, she made the following confession before the
church, and thereupon was admitted to membership in it.
"The confession of Anne Putnam, when she was received to communion,
1706.
"I desire to be humble before God for that sad and humbling providence
that befell my father's family in the year about '92; that I, then
being in my childhood, should by such a providence of God _be made an
instrument_ for the accusing of several persons of a grievous crime,
whereby their lives were taken away from them, whom now I have just
grounds and good reason to believe were innocent persons; and that it
was a great delusion of Satan that deceived me in that sad time;
whereby I justly fear I have been instrumental, with others, _though
ignorantly and unwillingly_, to bring upon myself and this land the
guilt of innocent blood. Though what was said or done by me against
any person I can truly and uprightly say, before God and man, I did it
_not out of any anger, malice, or ill-will to any person_, for I had
no such thing against one of them; but what I did was ignorantly,
being deluded by Satan. And particularly as I was a chief _instrument_
of accusing Goodwife Nurse and her two sisters, I desire to lie in the
dust, and to be humbled for it, in that I was a cause, with others, of
so sad a calamity to them and their families; for which cause I desire
to lie in the dust, and earnestly beg forgiveness of God, and from all
those unto whom I have given just cause of sorrow and offense, whose
relations were taken away or accused.
(Signed) ANNE PUTNAM.
"This confession was read before the congregation, together with her
relation, August 25, 1706; and she acknowledged it.
"J. GREEN, _Pastor_."
In that confession she speaks very pointedly of herself as having been
used as an _instrument_. Any mortal may perhaps properly do so in relation
to each and every act performed. But her history induces inquiry whether
Ann was not very strictly an instrument; whether her own will, or whether
some other intelligent being's will, used her lips when they put forth
accusations of witchcraft. The latter may have been possible; for once,
while we were in conversation with a lady who applied disparaging remarks
to particular gentleman who was a prominent medium, we, in reply,
expressed our belief that the doings which annoyed her were not the man's
voluntary acts, and also that his consciousness that such deeds were
alleged by truthful and trustworthy persons to have actually been
performed through his physical organism made the acts even more grievous
to him than to any one of his acquaintances. She doubted, while we
maintained, the possibility of one's mortal form being thus subjected to a
will outside of itself. Not many minutes had elapsed--not much argument
having been presented on either side--before her own lips were set in use
for putting forth a warm defense of Victoria C. Woodhull, a person upon
whom our colloquist looked, and of whom she was accustomed to speak, with
very decided disapprobation. She was a conscious listener to the words
that rolled from her own lips, and experience taught her that our defense
of the censured man might be admissible; for, in spite of herself, her own
lips were made to bless whom her sentiments were inclining her to curse.
Baalam _could_ not curse whom his Lord did not. That lady is a _conscious_
medium--conscious that her physical organs, without her consent, and in
spite of her resistance, are sometimes temporarily borrowed and used by an
intelligence outside of herself. As such she is representative of many
others. Of course, in these days, she is so informed as to see that
actions and words of spirits are imputed to her as being her own because
performed by use of her organs, while they are, in fact, no more hers than
are the acts and utterances of her neighbors. But we doubt much whether
any one in 1692 or 1706 had attained to knowledge that some human forms
could be thus filchable and usable; no ground had then been discovered on
which one could stand and credibly say, "Though my own lips spake thus and
so, another's will put forth the utterances in spite of me." Firm ground
for that has now been found; it is not a new formation, but existed,
though then unknown, in 1692. Ann Putnam's form may have been used by
another's will in each and all of her imputed accusations for witchcraft,
and she, as far as then concerned, have been absolutely a will-less
_instrument_.
There are other classes of mediums. We call to mind at this instant four
ladies, all of them respectable and excellent, whom we know and have known
for years, whose lips often give utterance to facts, opinions, and beliefs
while the ladies are absolutely unconscious; and sayings then which seem
to be theirs are often wide at variance with what either their knowledge
or their sense of right and truth would permit their own wills to
announce. These are _unconscious_ mediums; not responsible for, because
absolutely ignorant of, what their physical forms are being made to say
and do. These persons are representatives of a large class of good
mediums.
One phrase in Ann Putnam's confession indicates to us that she probably
belonged to the mediumistic class here presented. She had been, years
before, as she says, an _instrument_ not only ignorant, but _unwitting_.
In childhood, Ann was brightest among the bright; and, in the absence of
evidence to the contrary, it is fair to presume that when reaching the age
of twenty-six she was an intelligent woman, capable of knowing the fair
import of any statements to which she gave deliberate and solemn assent.
We apprehend that her confession was drawn up very carefully, and in
consultation with her intelligent and excellent pastor, Rev. Mr. Green;
also that every word of it was carefully weighed. She seems then to have
been stretching forth a hand soliciting acceptance and friendly grasp by
representatives of some whose blood had been shed because of accusations
from her lips; and we feel forced to presume that then she was in mental
and affectional moods which would make it her duty and her choice to take
upon herself all the blame for her share in the witchcraft transactions
which facts and truth could possibly permit. Her confession is special. It
all pertains to her _instrumental_ share in accusing innocent persons of
what was then deemed grievous crime, and thus in bringing them to death
upon the gallows. Her declaration is as distinct as words can make it,
that the doings through her were "not out of any anger, malice, or
ill-will to any person" on her part; and this renders Upham's supposition,
that family, neighborhood, and sectional quarrels, disputes, rivalries,
&c., were motives in her, very improbable.
Also her statement is very distinct, that whatever she did in that respect
was done, so far as she was concerned, both "_ignorantly_ and
_unwittingly_." We are aware that those two words are sometimes used
synonymously, or very nearly so. But when the first occurs in a carefully
constructed sentence, the other, if added, should be deemed to have been
inserted for the special purpose of expressing something beyond what the
first usually imports. The whole had not been told when she had said she
acted ignorantly. To express the remainder, she added--_unwittingly_. When
that word was thus applied, she cannot fairly be supposed to have meant
less than that she acted _unknowingly_--that is, without either knowledge
or consciousness that she did thus act. An _unwitting_ instrument--an
instrument not knowing that it was being used--enfolds within itself a
silent but most potent plea for the world's lenient regards. When
consciousness has taken no cognizance of acts performed by the tongue or
the hand,--when memory can find no record of them, compunction cannot gnaw
deeply, nor conscience be a stern accuser. Often conscience may be at
peace, and God may approve, where man blames. Testimony from without may
force mental conviction that one's lips and limbs must have been used in
doing excessive harm, though consciousness of the fact be entirely
wanting. Conviction even thus generated will naturally and almost
necessarily create apprehension that the world is regarding the owner of
those lips and limbs as having been guilty of very great crimes. That
apprehension may create sadness over all one's subsequent days. Public
opinion bridles the tongue then; for a denial of guilt, however honest
and true, can receive no credence where external senses have perceived
knowledge to the contrary. Ann's relations to society may necessarily have
been saddening during many years, even though she of herself had done
nothing offensive either to her own conscience or to God.
Imagination can scarcely picture the sadness which must have come upon the
accusing girls when, a year or two later, public opinion and favor, which
at first buoyed them up and favored such use of their organisms as has
been depicted, began to turn against them and to brand them as murderers
of the innocent and good. We have no means to trace many of them through
their subsequent years. Could we do it, we should expect to find them
weighed down, depressed, and made forlorn by the great change of
estimation in which the doings were afterward held, in which they had
appeared to be prominent and most disastrous actors. Few of them probably
had inherent stamina enough to enable them to stand erect, and move about
firmly poised, under the burdens of obloquy, pity, hatred, resentment,
&c., which the wounded hearts of the families of murdered ones would lay
upon these seeming authors of their losses.
It is pleasant to find that the sensitive and bright Ann Putnam, as
prominent as any one in the band of accusers, survived such pressure,
continued long to care for her orphaned little brothers and sisters, and,
after the first and most crushing effects of the change in public opinion
had been endured for a dozen years or more, held out her hand in friendly
beckoning to those who had most seeming cause to blame her, and who
perhaps in turn had imposed her heaviest burdens, and seeking to thus open
the way for her unopposed admission to the church, and to fellowship with
the kindred and friends of those whom her tongue had been used to defame
and bring to ignominious death. Her life experiences were hard, but
perhaps fruitful of good to man beyond what words can express. Possibly it
is her blessed privilege now to see that her form was used as an
_instrument_ for effecting Christendom's emancipation from monstrous
error, and putting an effectual stop to executions for witchcraft
everywhere.