went to John Putnam's house that morning, about nine o'clock. He found
Mercy in[ii.201] a terrible condition, crying out with piteous tones of
anguish, "Dear Lord, receive my soul."—"Lord, let them not kill me
quite."—"Pray for the salvation of my soul, for they will kill me
outright." He was desired to go to Thomas Putnam's house to bring his
daughter Ann, "to see if she could see who it was that hurt Mercy
Lewis." He found Abigail Williams with Ann, and they accompanied him
back to John Putnam's. On the way, they both cried out that they saw
the apparition of Goody Easty afflicting Mercy Lewis. When they reached
the scene, they exclaimed, "There is Goody Easty and John Willard and
Mary Whittredge afflicting the body of Mercy Lewis;" Mercy at the time
laboring for breath, and appearing as choked and strangled, convulsed,
and apparently at the last gasp. "Thus," says Abbey, "she continued the
greatest part of the day, in such tortures as no tongue can express."
Mary Walcot was sent for. Upon coming in, she cried out, "There is the
apparition of Goody Easty choking Mercy Lewis, pressing upon her
breasts with both her hands, and putting a chain about her neck." A
message was then despatched for Elizabeth Hubbard. She, too, saw the
shape of Goody Easty, "the very same woman that was sent home the other
day," aided in her diabolical operations by Willard and Whittredge,
"torturing Mercy in a most dreadful manner." Intelligence of the
shocking sufferings of Mercy was circulated far and wide, and people
hurried to the spot from all directions. Jonathan Putnam, James
Darling, Benja[ii.202]min Hutchinson, and Samuel Braybrook reached the
house during the evening, and found Mercy "in a case as if death would
have quickly followed." Occasionally, Mercy would have a respite; and,
at such intervals, Elizabeth Hubbard would fill the gap. "These two
fell into fits by turns; the one being well while the other was ill."
Each of them continued, all the while, crying out against Goody Easty,
uttering in their trances vehement remonstrances against her cruel
operations, representing her as bringing their winding-sheets and
coffins, and threatening to kill them "if they would not sign to her
book." Their acting was so complete that the bystanders seem to have
thought that they heard the words of Easty, as well as the responses of
the girls; and that they saw the "winding-sheet, coffin," and "the
book." In the general consternation, Marshal Herrick was sent for. What
he saw, heard, thought, and did, appears from the following:—
"May 20, 1692.—The Testimony of George Herrick, aged thirty-four or
thereabouts, and John Putnam, Jr., of Salem Village, aged thirty-five
years or thereabouts.—Testifieth and saith, that, being at the house of
the above-said John Putnam, both saw Mercy Lewis in a very dreadful and
solemn condition, so that to our apprehension she could not continue
long in this world without a mitigation of those torments we saw her
in, which caused us to expedite a hasty despatch to apprehend Mary
Easty, in hopes, if possible, it might save her life; and, returning
the same night to said John Putnam's house about midnight,[ii.203] we
found the said Mercy Lewis in a dreadful fit, but her reason was then
returned. Again she said, 'What! have you brought me the winding-sheet,
Goodwife Easty? Well, I had rather go into the winding-sheet than set
my hand to the book;' but, after that, her fits were weaker and weaker,
but still complaining that she was very sick of her stomach. About
break of day, she fell asleep, but still continues extremely sick, and
was taken with a dreadful fit just as we left her; so that we perceived
life in her, and that was all."
Edward Putnam, after stating that the grievous afflictions and tortures
of Mercy Lewis were charged, by her and the other four girls, upon Mary
Easty, deposes as follows:—
"I myself, being there present with several others, looked for nothing
else but present death for almost the space of two days and a night.
She was choked almost to death, insomuch we thought sometimes she had
been dead; her mouth and teeth shut; and all this very often until such
time as we understood Mary Easty was laid in irons."
Mercy's fits did not cease immediately upon Easty's being apprehended,
but on her being committed to prison and chains by the magistrate in
Salem.
An examination of distances, with the map before us, will show the
rapidity with which business was despatched on this occasion. Abbey
went to John Putnam, Jr.'s house at nine o'clock in the morning of May
20. He was sent to Thomas Putnam's house for Ann, and brought her and
Abigail Williams back with him. Mary Walcot was sent for to the house
of her father, Captain Jonathan Walcot, and went up at one[ii.204]
o'clock, "about an hour by sun." Then Elizabeth Hubbard, who lived at
the house of Dr. Griggs, "was carried up to Constable John Putnam's
house:" Jonathan Putnam, James Darling, Benjamin Hutchinson, and Samuel
Braybrook got there in the evening, as they say, "between eight and
eleven o'clock." In the mean time, Marshal Herrick had arrived. Steps
were taken to get out a warrant. John Putnam and Benjamin Hutchinson
went to Salem to Hathorne for the purpose. They must have started soon
after eight. Hathorne issued the warrant forthwith. It is dated May 20.
Herrick went with it to the house of Isaac Easty, made the arrest, sent
his prisoner to the jail in Salem, and returned himself to John
Putnam's house "about midnight;" staid to witness the apparently mortal
sufferings of Mercy until "about break of day;" returned to Salem; had
the examination before Hathorne, at Thomas Beadle's: the whole thing
was finished, Mary Easty in irons, information of the result carried to
John Putnam's, and Mercy's agonies ceased that afternoon, as Edward
Putnam testifies.
I have given this particular account of the circumstances that led to
and attended Mary Easty's second arrest, because the papers belonging
to the case afford, in some respects, a better insight of the state of
things than others, and because they enable us to realize the power
which the accusing girls exercised. The continuance of their
convulsions and spasms for such a length of time, the large number of
persons who witnessed and watched them in the broad daylight,
and[ii.205] the perfect success of their operations, show how
thoroughly they had become trained in their arts. I have presented the
occurrences in the order of time, so that, by estimating the distances
traversed and the period within which they took place, an idea can be
formed of the vehement earnestness with which men acted in the
"hurrying distractions of amazing afflictions" and overwhelming
terrors. This instance also gives us a view of the horrible state of
things, when any one, however respectable and worthy, was liable, at
any moment, to be seized, maligned, and destroyed.
Mary Easty had previously experienced the malice of the persecutors.
For two months she had suffered the miseries of imprisonment, had just
been released, and for two days enjoyed the restoration of liberty, the
comforts of her home, and a re-union with her family. She and they, no
doubt, considered themselves safe from any further outrage. After
midnight, she was roused from sleep by the unfeeling marshal, torn from
her husband and children, carried back to prison, loaded with chains,
and finally consigned to a dreadful and most cruel death. She was an
excellent and pious matron. Her husband, referring to the transaction
nearly twenty years afterwards, justly expressed what all must feel,
that it was "a hellish molestation."
One of the most malignant witnesses against Mary Easty was "Goodwife
Bibber." She obtruded herself in many of the cases, acting as a sort of
outside member of the "accusing circle," volunteering her aid
in[ii.206] carrying on the persecutions. It was an outrage for the
magistrates or judges to have countenanced such a false defamer. There
are, among the papers, documents which show that she ought to have been
punished as a calumniator, rather than be called to utter, under oath,
lies against respectable people. The following deposition was sworn to
in Court:—
"The Testimony of Joseph Fowler, who testifieth that Goodman Bibber and
his wife lived at my house; and I did observe and take notice that
Goodwife Bibber was a woman who was very idle in her calling, and very
much given to tattling and tale-bearing, making mischief amongst her
neighbors, and very much given to speak bad words, and would call her
husband bad names, and was a woman of a very turbulent, unruly spirit."
Joseph Fowler lived in Wenham, and was a person of respectability and
influence. His brother Philip was also a leading man; was employed as
attorney by the Village Parish in its lawsuit with Mr. Parris; and
married a sister of Joseph Herrick. They were the grandsons of the
first Philip, who was an early emigrant from Wales, settling in
Ipswich, where he had large landed estates. Henry Fowler and his two
brothers, now of Danvers, are the descendants of this family: one of
them, Augustus, distinguished as a naturalist, especially in the
department of ornithology; the other, Samuel Page Fowler, as an
explorer of our early annals and local antiquities. In 1692, one of the
Fowlers conducted the proceedings in Court[ii.207] against the head and
front of the witchcraft prosecution; and the other had the courage, in
the most fearful hour of the delusion, to give open testimony in the
defence of its victims. It is an interesting circumstance, that one of
the same name and descent, in his reprint of the papers of Calef and in
other publications, has done as much as any other person of our day to
bring that whole transaction under the light of truth and justice.
John Porter, who was a grandson of the original John Porter and the
original William Dodge and a man of property and family, with his wife
Lydia; Thomas Jacobs and Mary his wife; and Richard Walker,—all of
Wenham, and for a long time neighbors of this Bibber,—testify, in
corroboration of the statement of Fowler, that she was a woman of an
unruly, turbulent spirit, double-tongued, much given to tattling and
tale-bearing, making mischief amongst her neighbors, very much given to
speak bad words, often speaking against one and another, telling lies
and uttering malicious wishes against people. It was abundantly proved
that she had long been known to be able to fall into fits at any time.
One witness said "she would often fall into strange fits when she was
crossed of her humor;" and another, "that she could fall into fits as
often as she pleased."
On the 21st of May, warrants were issued against the wife of William
Basset, of Lynn; Susanna Roots, of Beverly; and Sarah, daughter of John
Procter of Salem Farms; a few days after, against Benjamin, a son
of[ii.208] said John Procter; Mary Derich, wife of Michael Derich, and
daughter of William Basset of Lynn; and the wife of Robert Pease of
Salem. Such papers as relate to these persons vary in no particular
worthy of notice from those already presented.
On the 28th of May, warrants were issued against Martha Carrier, of
Andover; Elizabeth Fosdick, of Malden; Wilmot Read, of Marblehead;
Sarah Rice, of Reading; Elizabeth How, of Topsfield; Captain John
Alden, of Boston; William Procter, of Salem Farms; Captain John Flood,
of Rumney Marsh; —— Toothaker and her daughter, of Billerica; and ----
Abbot, between Topsfield and Wenham line. On the 30th, a warrant was
issued against Elizabeth, wife of Stephen Paine, of Charlestown; on the
4th of June, against Mary, wife of Benjamin Ireson, of Lynn. Besides
these, there are notices of complaints made and warrants issued against
a great number of people in all parts of the country: Mary Bradbury, of
Salisbury; Lydia and Sarah Dustin, of Reading; Ann Sears, of Woburn;
Job Tookey, of Beverly; Abigail Somes, of Gloucester; Elizabeth Carey,
of Charlestown; Candy, a negro woman; and many others. Some of them
have points of interest, demanding particular notice.
The case of Martha Carrier has some remarkable features. It has been
shown, by passages already adduced, that every idle rumor; every thing
that the gossip of the credulous or the fertile imaginations of the
malignant could produce; every thing, gleaned from the memory or the
fancy, that could have an unfavora[ii.209]ble bearing upon an accused
person, however foreign or irrelevant it might be to the charge, was
allowed to be brought in evidence before the magistrates, and received
at the trials. We have seen that a child under five years of age was
arrested, and put into prison. Children were not only permitted, but
induced, to become witnesses against their parents, and parents against
their children. Husbands and wives were made to criminate each other as
witnesses in court. When Martha Carrier was arrested, four of her
children were also taken into custody. An indictment against one of
them is among the papers. Under the terrors brought to bear upon them,
they were prevailed on to be confessors. The following shows how these
children were trained to tell their story:—
"It was asked Sarah Carrier by the magistrates,—
"How long hast thou been a witch?—Ever since I was six years old.
"How old are you now?—Near eight years old: brother Richard says I
shall be eight years old in November next.
"Who made you a witch?—My mother: she made me set my hand to a book.
"How did you set your hand to it?—I touched it with my fingers, and the
book was red: the paper of it was white.
"She said she never had seen the black man: the place where she did it
was in Andrew Foster's pasture, and Elizabeth Johnson, Jr., was there.
Being asked who was there besides, she answered, her aunt Toothaker and
her cousin.[ii.210] Being asked when it was, she said, when she was
baptized.
"What did they promise to give you?—A black dog.
"Did the dog ever come to you?—No.
"But you said you saw a cat once: what did that say to you?—It said it
would tear me in pieces, if I would not set my hand to the book.
"She said her mother baptized her, and the Devil, or black man, was not
there, as she saw; and her mother said, when she baptized her, 'Thou
art mine for ever and ever. Amen.'
"How did you afflict folks?—I pinched them.
"And she said she had no puppets, but she went to them that she
afflicted. Being asked whether she went in her body or her spirit, she
said in her spirit. She said her mother carried her thither to afflict.
"How did your mother carry you when she was in prison?—She came like a
black cat.
"How did you know it was your mother?—The cat told me so, that she was
my mother. She said she afflicted Phelps's child last Saturday, and
Elizabeth Johnson joined with her to do it. She had a wooden spear,
about as long as her finger, of Elizabeth Johnson; and she had it of
the Devil. She would not own that she had ever been at the
witch-meeting at the village. This is the substance.
"Simon Willard."
The confession of another of her children is among the papers. It runs
thus:—
"Have you been in the Devil's snare?—Yes.
"Is your brother Andrew ensnared by the Devil's snare?—Yes.[ii.211]
"How long has your brother been a witch?—Near a month.
"How long have you been a witch?—Not long.
"Have you joined in afflicting the afflicted persons?—Yes.
"You helped to hurt Timothy Swan, did you?—Yes.
"How long have you been a witch?—About five weeks.
"Who was in company when you covenanted with the Devil?—Mrs. Bradbury.
"Did she help you afflict?—Yes.
"Who was at the village meeting when you were there?—Goodwife How,
Goodwife Nurse, Goodwife Wildes, Procter and his wife, Mrs. Bradbury,
and Corey's wife.
"What did they do there?—Eat, and drank wine.
"Was there a minister there?—No, not as I know of.
"From whence had you your wine?—From Salem, I think, it was.
"Goodwife Oliver there?—Yes: I knew her."
In concluding his report of the trial of this wretched woman, whose
children were thus made to become the instruments for procuring her
death, Dr. Cotton Mather expresses himself in the following language:—
"This rampant hag (Martha Carrier) was the person of whom the
confessions of the witches, and of her own children among the rest,
agreed that the Devil had promised her that she should be queen of
Hell."
It is quite evident that this "rampant hag" had no better opinion of
the dignitaries and divines who managed matters at the time than they
had of her.[ii.212] The record of her examination shows that she was
not afraid to speak her mind, and in plain terms too. When brought
before the magistrates, the following were their questions and her
answers. The accusing witnesses having severally made their charges
against her, declaring that she had tormented them in various ways, and
threatened to cut their throats if they would not sign the Devil's
book, which, they said, she had presented to them, the magistrates
addressed her in these words: "What do you say to this you are charged
with?" She answered, "I have not done it." One of the accusers cried
out that she was, at that moment, sticking pins into her. Another
declared that she was then looking upon "the black man,"—the shape in
which they pretended the Devil appeared. The magistrate asked the
accused, "What black man is that?" Her answer was, "I know none." The
accusers cried out that the black man was present, and visible to them.
The magistrate asked her, "What black man did you see?" Her answer was,
"I saw no black man but your own presence." Whenever she looked upon
the accusers, they were knocked down. The magistrate, entirely deluded
by their practised acting, said to her, "Can you look upon these, and
not knock them down?" Her answer was, "They will dissemble, if I look
upon them." He continued: "You see, you look upon them, and they fall
down." She broke out, "It is false: the Devil is a liar. I looked upon
none since I came into the room but you." Susanna Sheldon cried out, in
a trance, "I wonder what could[ii.213] you murder thirteen persons
for." At this, her spirit became aroused: the accusers fell into the
most intolerable outcries and agonies. The accused rebuked the
magistrate, charging him with unfairness in not paying any regard to
what she said, and receiving every thing that the accusers said. "It is
a shameful thing, that you should mind these folks that are out of
their wits;" and, turning to those who were bringing these false and
ridiculous charges against her, she said, "You lie: I am wronged." The
energy and courage of the prisoner threw the accusers, magistrates, and
the whole crowd into confusion and uproar. The record closes the
description of the scene in these words: "The tortures of the afflicted
were so great that there was no enduring of it, so that she was ordered
away, and to be bound hand and foot with all expedition; the afflicted,
in the mean while, almost killed, to the great trouble of all
spectators, magistrates, and others."
Parris closes his report of this examination as follows:—
"Note.—As soon as she was well bound, they all had strange and sudden
ease. Mary Walcot told the magistrates that this woman told her she had
been a witch this forty years."
This shows the sort of communications the girls were allowed to hold
with the magistrates, exciting their prejudices against accused
persons, and filling their ears with all sorts of exaggerated and false
stories. However much she may have been maligned[ii.214] by her
neighbors, some of whom had long been in the habit of circulating
slanders against her, the whole tenor of the papers relating to her
shows that she always indignantly repelled the charge of being a witch,
and was the last person in the world to have volunteered such a
statement as Mary Walcot reported.
The examination of Martha Carrier must have been one of the most
striking scenes of the whole drama of the witchcraft proceedings. The
village meeting-house presented a truly wild and exciting spectacle.
The fearful and horrible superstition which darkened the minds of the
people was displayed in their aspect and movements. Their belief, that,
then and there, they were witnessing the great struggle between the
kingdoms of God and of the Evil One, and that every thing was at stake
on the issue, gave an awe-struck intensity to their expression. The
blind, unquestioning confidence of the magistrates, clergy, and all
concerned in the prosecutions, in the evidence of the accusers; the
loud outcries of their pretended sufferings; their contortions,
swoonings, and tumblings, excited the usual consternation in the
assembly. In addition to this, there was the more than ordinary bold
and defiant bearing of the prisoner, stung to desperation by the
outrage upon human nature in the abuse practised upon her poor
children; her firm and unshrinking courage, facing the tempest that was
raised to overwhelm her, sternly rebuking the magistrates,—"It is a
shameful thing that you should mind these folks[ii.215] that are out of
their wits;"—her whole demeanor, proclaiming her conscious innocence,
and proving that she chose chains, the dungeon, and the scaffold,
rather than to belie herself. Seldom has a scene in real life, or a
picture wrought by the inspiration of genius and the hand of art, in
its individual characters or its general grouping, surpassed that
presented on this occasion.
Hutchinson has preserved the record of another examination of a
different character. An ignorant negro slave-woman was brought before
the magistrates. She was cunning enough, not only to confess, but to
cover herself with the cloak of having been led into the difficulty by
her mistress.
"Candy, are you a witch?—Candy no witch in her country. Candy's mother
no witch. Candy no witch, Barbados. This country, mistress give Candy
witch.
"Did your mistress make you a witch in this country?—Yes: in this
country, mistress give Candy witch.
"What did your mistress do to make you witch?—Mistress bring book and
pen and ink; make Candy write in it."
Upon being asked what she wrote, she took a pen and ink, and made a
mark. Upon being asked how she afflicted people, and where were the
puppets she did it with, she said, that, if they would let her go out
for a moment, she would show them how. They allowed her to go out, and
she presently returned with two pieces of cloth or linen,—one with two
knots, the other with one tied in it. Immediately on seeing these
articles, the "afflicted children" were "greatly[ii.216] affrighted,"
and fell into violent fits. When they came to, they declared that the
"black man," Mrs. Hawkes, and the negro, stood by the puppets of rags,
and pinched them. Whereupon they fell into fits again. "A bit of one of
the rags being set on fire," they all shrieked that they were burned,
and "cried out dreadfully." Some pieces being dipped in water, they
went into the convulsions and struggles of drowning persons; and one of
them rushed out of the room, and raced down towards the river.
Candy and the girls having played their parts so well, there was no
escape for poor Mrs. Hawkes but in confession, which she forthwith
made. They were both committed to prison. Fortunately, it was not
convenient to bring them to trial until the next January, when, the
delusion having blown over, they were acquitted.
Besides those already mentioned, there were others, among the victims
of this delusion, whose cases excite our tenderest sensibility, and
deepen our horror in the contemplation of the scene. It seems, that,
some time before the transactions took place in Salem Village, a
difficulty arose between two families on the borders of Topsfield and
Ipswich, such as often occur among neighbors, about some small matter
of property, fences, or boundaries. Their names were Perley and How. A
daughter of Perley, about ten years of age, hearing, probably, strong
expressions by her parents, became excited against the Hows, and
charged the wife of How with bewitching her. She acted much[ii.217]
after the manner of the "afflicted girls" in Salem Village, which was
near the place of her residence. Very soon the idea became current that
Mrs. How was a witch; and every thing that happened amiss to any one
was laid at her door. She was cried out against by the "afflicted
children" in Salem Village, and carried before the magistrates for
examination on the 31st of May, 1692. Upon being brought into her
presence, the accusers fell into their usual fits and convulsions, and
charged her with tormenting them. To the question, put by the
magistrates, "What say you to this charge?" her answer was, "If it was
the last moment I was to live, God knows I am innocent of any thing in
this nature." The papers connected with her trial bear abundant
testimony to the excellent character of this pious and amiable woman. A
person, who had lived near her twenty-four years, states, in her
deposition, "that she had found her a neighborly woman, conscientious
in her dealing, faithful to her promises, and Christianlike in her
conversation." Several others join in a deposition to this effect: "For
our own parts, we have been well acquainted with her for above twenty
years. We never saw but that she carried it very well, and that both
her words and actions were always such as well became a good
Christian."
The following passages illustrate the wicked arts sometimes used to
bring accusations upon innocent persons, and give affecting proof of
the excellence of the character and heart of Elizabeth How:[ii.218]—