undone us in our estates, and that will not serve their turns without
our innocent blood. If it cannot be granted that we can have our trials
at Boston, we humbly beg that you would endeavor to have these
magistrates changed, and others in their room; begging also and
beseeching you, that you would be pleased to be here, if not all, some
of you, at our trials, hoping thereby you may be the means of saving
the shedding of our innocent blood. Desiring your prayers to the Lord
in our behalf, we rest, your poor afflicted servants,
"John Procter [and others]." [ii.312]
The bitterness of the prosecutors against Procter was so vehement, that
they not only arrested, and tried to destroy, his wife and all his
family above the age of infancy, in Salem, but all her relatives in
Lynn, many of whom were thrown into prison. The helpless children were
left destitute, and the house swept of its provisions by the sheriff.
Procter's wife gave birth to a child, about a fortnight after his
execution. This indicates to what alone she owed her life.
John Procter had spoken so boldly against the proceedings, and all who
had part in them, that it was felt to be necessary to put him out of
the way. He had denounced the entire company of the accusers, and their
revenge demanded his sacrifice. They brought the whole power of their
cunning and audacious arts to bear against him, and pursued him to the
death with violence and rage. The manly and noble deportment exhibited
in his dying hour seems to have made a deep impression on the minds of
some, and gave an effectual blow to the delusion. The descendants of
John Procter have always understood that his remains were recovered
from the spot where the hangman deposited them, and placed in his own
grounds, where they rest to-day.
[ii.313]
signatures
[ii.314]
signatures
No account has come to us of the deportment of George Jacobs, Sr., at
his execution. As he was remarkable in life for the firmness of his
mind, so he probably was in death. He had made his will before the
delusion arose. It is dated Jan. 29, 1692; and shows that he, like
Procter, had a considerable estate.[ii.315] Bartholomew Gedney is one
of the attesting witnesses, and probably wrote the document. After his
conviction, on the 12th of August, he caused another to be written,
which, in its provisions, reflects light upon the state of mind
produced by the condition in which he found himself. In his infirm old
age, he had been condemned to die for a crime of which he knew himself
innocent, and which there is some reason to believe he did not think
any one capable of committing. He regarded the whole thing as a wicked
conspiracy and absurd fabrication. He had to end his long life upon a
scaffold in a week from that day. His house was desolated, and his
property sequestered. His only son, charged with the same crime, had
eluded the sheriff,—leaving his family, in the hurry of his flight,
unprovided for—and was an exile in foreign lands. The crazy wife of
that son was in prison and in chains, waiting trial on the same charge;
her little children, including an unweaned infant, left in a deserted
and destitute condition in the woods. The older children were
scattered, he knew not where, while one of them had completed the
bitterness of his lot by becoming a confessor, upon being arrested with
her mother as a witch. This grand-daughter, Margaret, overwhelmed with
fright and horror, bewildered by the statements of the accusers, and
controlled probably by the arguments and arbitrary methods of address
employed by her minister, Mr. Noyes,—whose peculiar function in these
proceedings seems to have been to drive persons accused to make
confession—had been betrayed into[ii.316] that position, and became a
confessor, and accuser of others. Under these circumstances, the old
man made a will, giving to his son George his estates, and securing the
succession of them to his male descendants. But, in the mean while,
without his then knowing it, Margaret had recalled her confession, as
appears from the following documents, which tell their own story:—
"_The Humble Declaration of Margaret Jacobs unto the Honored Court now
sitting at Salem showeth_, that, whereas your poor and humble
declarant, being closely confined here in Salem jail for the crime of
witchcraft,—which crime, thanks be to the Lord! I am altogether
ignorant of, as will appear at the great day of judgment,—may it please
the honored Court, I was cried out upon by some of the possessed
persons as afflicting them; whereupon I was brought to my examination;
which persons at the sight of me fell down, which did very much startle
and affright me. The Lord above knows I knew nothing in the least
measure how or who afflicted them. They told me, without doubt I did,
or else they would not fall down at me; they told me, if I would not
confess, I should be put down into the dungeon, and would be hanged,
but, if I would confess, I should have my life: the which did so
affright me, with my own vile, wicked heart, to save my life, made me
make the like confession I did, which confession, may it please the
honored Court, is altogether false and untrue. The very first night
after I had made confession, I was in such horror of conscience that I
could not sleep, for fear the Devil should carry me away for telling
such horrid lies. I was, may it please the honored Court, sworn to my
confession, as I understand[ii.317] since; but then, at that time, was
ignorant of it, not knowing what an oath did mean. The Lord, I hope, in
whom I trust, out of the abundance of his mercy, will forgive me my
false forswearing myself. What I said was altogether false against my
grandfather and Mr. Burroughs, which I did to save my life, and to have
my liberty: but the Lord, charging it to my conscience, made me in so
much horror, that I could not contain myself before I had denied my
confession, which I did, though I saw nothing but death before me;
choosing rather death with a quiet conscience, than to live in such
horror, which I could not suffer. Where, upon my denying my confession,
I was committed to close prison, where I have enjoyed more felicity in
spirit, a thousand times, than I did before in my enlargement. And now,
may it please Your Honors, your declarant having in part given Your
Honors a description of my condition, do leave it to Your Honors' pious
and judicious discretions to take pity and compassion on my young and
tender years, to act and do with me as the Lord above and Your Honors
shall see good, having no friend but the Lord to plead my cause for me;
not being guilty, in the least measure, of the crime of witchcraft, nor
any other sin that deserves death from man. And your poor and humble
declarant shall for ever pray, as she is bound in duty, for Your
Honors' happiness in this life, and eternal felicity in the world to
come. So prays Your Honors' declarant,
Margaret Jacobs."
The following letter was written by this same young person to her
father. Let it be observed that her grandfather had been executed the
day before, partly upon her false testimony.[ii.318]
"_From the Dungeon in Salem Prison._
"August 20, 1692.
"Honored Father,—After my humble duty remembered to you, hoping in the
Lord of your good health, as, blessed be God! I enjoy, though in
abundance of affliction, being close confined here in a loathsome
dungeon: the Lord look down in mercy upon me, not knowing how soon I
shall be put to death, by means of the afflicted persons; my
grandfather having suffered already, and all his estate seized for the
king. The reason of my confinement is this: I having, through the
magistrates' threatenings, and my own vile and wretched heart,
confessed several things contrary to my conscience and knowledge,
though to the wounding of my own soul; (the Lord pardon me for it!)
but, oh! the terrors of a wounded conscience who can bear? But, blessed
be the Lord! he would not let me go on in my sins, but in mercy, I
hope, to my soul, would not suffer me to keep it any longer: but I was
forced to confess the truth of all before the magistrates, who would
not believe me; but it is their pleasure to put me in here, and God
knows how soon I shall be put to death. Dear father, let me beg your
prayers to the Lord on my behalf, and send us a joyful and happy
meeting in heaven. My mother, poor woman, is very crazy, and remembers
her kind love to you, and to uncle; viz., D.A. So, leaving you to the
protection of the Lord, I rest, your dutiful daughter,
Margaret Jacobs."
A temporary illness led to the postponement of her trial; and, before
the next sitting of the Court, the delusion had passed away.
The "uncle D.A.," referred to, was Daniel Andrew, their nearest
neighbor, who had escaped at the[ii.319] same time with her father. She
calls him "uncle." He was, it is probable, a brother of John Andrew who
had married Ann Jacobs, sister of her father. Words of relationship
were then used with a wide sense.
Margaret read the recantation of her confession before the Court, and
was, as she says, forthwith ordered by them into a dungeon. She
obtained permission to visit Mr. Burroughs the day before his
execution, acknowledged that she had belied him, and implored his
forgiveness. He freely forgave, and prayed with her and for her. It is
probable, that, at the same time, she obtained an interview with her
grandfather for the same purpose. At any rate, the old man heard of her
heroic conduct, and forthwith crowded into the space between two
paragraphs in his will, in small letters closely written (the jailer
probably being the amanuensis), a clause giving a legacy of "ten pounds
to be paid in silver" to his grand-daughter, Margaret Jacobs. There is
the usual declaration, that it "was inserted before sealing and
signing." This will having been made after conviction and sentence to
death, and having but two witnesses, one besides the jailer, was not
allowed in Probate, but remains among the files of that Court. As a
link in the foregoing story, it is an interesting relic. The legacy
clause, although not operative, was no doubt of inexpressible value to
the feelings of Margaret: and the circumstance seems to have touched
the heart even of the General Court, nearly twenty years afterwards;
for they took pains specifically to[ii.320] provide to have the same
sum paid to Margaret, out of the Province treasury.
She was not tried at the time appointed, in consequence, it is stated,
of "an imposthume in the head," and finally escaped the fate to which
she chose to consign herself, rather than remain under a violated
conscience. In judging of her, we cannot fail to make allowance for her
"young and tender years," and to sympathize in the sufferings through
which she passed. In making confession, and in accusing others, she had
done that which filled her heart with horror, in the retrospect, so
long as she lived. In recanting it, and giving her body to the dungeon,
and offering her life at the scaffold, she had secured the forgiveness
of Mr. Burroughs and her aged grandfather, and deserves our forgiveness
and admiration. Every human heart must rejoice that this young girl was
saved. She lived to be a worthy matron and the founder of a numerous
and respectable family.
George Jacobs, Sr., is the only one, among the victims of the
witchcraft prosecutions, the precise spot of whose burial is absolutely
ascertained.
The Jacobs House
THE JACOBS HOUSE.
The tradition has descended through the family, that the body, after
having been obtained at the place of execution, was strapped by a young
grandson on the back of a horse, brought home to the farm, and buried
beneath the shade of his own trees. Two sunken and weather-worn stones
marked the spot. There the remains rested until 1864, when they were
exhumed. They were enclosed again, and reverently redeposited[ii.321]
in the same place. The skull was in a state of considerable
preservation. An examination of the jawbones showed that he was a very
old man at the time of his death, and had previously lost all his
teeth. The length of some parts of the skeleton showed that he was a
very tall man. These circumstances corresponded with the evidence,
which was that he was tall of stature; so infirm as to walk with two
staffs; with long, flowing white hair. The only article found, except
the bones, was a metallic pin, which might have been used as a
breastpin, or to hold together his aged locks. It is an observable
fact, that he rests in his own ground still. He had lived for a great
length of time on that spot; and it remains in his family and in his
name to this day, having come down by direct descent. It is a beautiful
locality: the land descends with a gradual and smooth declivity to the
bank of the river. It is not much more than a mile from the city of
Salem, and in full view from the main road.
John Willard appears to have been an honest and amiable person, an
industrious farmer, having a comfortable estate, with a wife and three
young children. He was a grandson of Old Bray Wilkins; whether by blood
or marriage, I have not been able to ascertain. The indications are
that he married a daughter of Thomas or Henry Wilkins, most probably
the former, with both of whom he was a joint possessor of lands. He
came from Groton; and it is for local antiquaries to discover whether
he was a relative of the Rev. Samuel Willard of Boston. If so, the fact
would[ii.322] shed much light upon our story. There is but one piece of
evidence among the papers relating to his trial that deserves
particular notice. It shows the horrid character of the charges made by
the girls against prisoners at the bar, from their nature incapable of
being refuted and which the prisoners knew to be false, but the Court,
jury, and crowd implicitly believed. It also illustrates the
completeness of the machinery got up by the "accusing girls" to give
effect to their evidence. In addition to the evil gossip that could be
scoured from all the country round, and to spectres of witches and
ghosts of the dead, they brought into the scene angels and divine
beings, and testified to what they were told by them. "The shining
man," or the white man, was meant, in the following deposition, to be a
spirit of this description:—
"The Testimony of Susanna Sheldon, aged eighteen years or
thereabouts.—Testifieth and saith, that, the day of the date hereof
(9th of May, 1692), I saw at Nathaniel Ingersoll's house the
apparitions of these four persons,—William Shaw's first wife, the Widow
Cook, Goodman Jones and his child; and among these came the apparition
of John Willard, to whom these four said, 'You have murdered us.' These
four having said thus to Willard, they turned as red as blood. And,
turning about to look at me, they turned as pale as death. These four
desired me to tell Mr. Hathorne. Willard, hearing them, pulled out a
knife, saying, if I did, he would cut my throat."
The deponent goes on to say, that these several apparitions came before
her on another occasion, and the same language and actions took place,
and adds:[ii.323]—
"There did appear to me a shining man, who said I should go and tell
what I had heard and seen to Mr. Hathorne. This Willard, being there
present, told me, if I did, he would cut my throat. At this time and
place, this shining man told me, that if I did go to tell this to Mr.
Hathorne, that I should be well, going and coming, but I should be
afflicted there. Then said I to the shining man, 'Hunt Willard away,
and I would believe what he said, that he might not choke me.' With
that the shining man held up his hand, and Willard vanished away. About
two hours after, the same appeared to me again, and the said Willard
with them; and I asked them where their wounds were, and they said
there would come an angel from heaven, and would show them. And
forthwith the angel came. I asked what the man's name was that appeared
to me last, and the angel told his name was Southwick. And the angel
lifted up his winding-sheet, and out of his left side he pulled a
pitchfork tine, and put it in again, and likewise he opened all the
winding-sheets, and showed all their wounds. And the white man told me
to tell Mr. Hathorne of it, and I told him to hunt Willard away, and I
would; and he held up his hand, and he vanished away."
In the same deposition, this girl testifies that "she saw this Willard
suckle the apparitions of two black pigs on his breasts;" that Willard
told her he had been a witch twenty years; that she saw Willard and
other wizards kneel in prayer "to the black man with a long-crowned
hat, and then they vanished away."
Such was the kind of testimony which the Court received with awe-struck
and bewildered credulity,[ii.324] and which took away the lives of
valuable and blameless men. All we know of the manner of Willard's
death is a passage from Brattle, who states that a deep impression was
produced by the admirable deportment of the sufferers during the awful
scenes before and at their executions; giving every evidence of
conscious innocence and a Christian character and faith, on the part
especially of "Procter and Willard, whose whole management of
themselves from the jail to the gallows, and whilst at the gallows, was
very affecting, and melting to the hearts of some considerable
spectators whom I could mention to you: but they are executed, and so I
leave them."
On the 9th of September, the Court met again; and _Martha Corey_, _Mary
Easty_, _Alice Parker_, _Ann Pudeator_, Dorcas Hoar, and Mary Bradbury
were tried and condemned; and, on the 17th, _Margaret Scott_, _Wilmot
Reed_, _Samuel Wardwell_, _Mary Parker_, Abigail Faulkner, Rebecca
Eames, Mary Lacy, Ann Foster, and Abigail Hobbs received the same
sentence. Those in Italics were executed Sept. 22, 1692. Of the
circumstances in relation to them, in reference to their death and at
the time of their execution, but little information has reached us. The
following extract from Mr. Parris's church-records presents a striking
picture:—
"11 September, Lord's Day.—Sister Martha Corey—taken into the church 27
April, 1690—was, after examination upon suspicion of witchcraft, 27
March, 1692, committed to prison for that fact, and was condemned to
the[ii.325] gallows for the same yesterday; and was this day in public,
by a general consent, voted to be excommunicated out of the church, and
Lieutenant Nathaniel Putnam and the two deacons chosen to signify to
her, with the pastor, the mind of the church herein. Accordingly, this
14 September, 1692, the three aforesaid brethren went with the pastor
to her in Salem Prison; whom we found very obdurate, justifying
herself, and condemning all that had done any thing to her just
discovery or condemnation. Whereupon, after a little discourse (for her
imperiousness would not suffer much), and after prayer,—which she was
willing to decline,—the dreadful sentence of excommunication was
pronounced against her."
Calef informs us, that "Martha Corey, protesting her innocency,
concluded her life with an eminent prayer upon the ladder."
Nothing has reached us particularly relating to the manner of death of
Alice or Mary Parker, Ann Pudeator, Margaret Scott, or Wilmot Reed.
They all asserted their innocence; and their deportment gave no ground
for any unfavorable comment by their persecutors, who were on the watch
to turn every act, word, or look of the sufferers to their
disparagement. Wilmot Reed probably adhered to the unresisting demeanor
which marked her examination. It was all a mystery to her; and to every
question she answered, "I know nothing about it." Of Mary Easty it is
grateful to have some account. Her own declarations in vindication of
her innocence are fortunately preserved; and her noble record is
complete in the fol[ii.326]lowing documents. The first appears to have
been addressed to the Special Court, and was presented immediately
before the trial of Mary Easty. No explanation has come down to us why
Sarah Cloyse was not then also brought to trial. Circumstances to which
we have no clew rescued her from the fate of her sisters.
"_The Humble Request of Mary Easty and Sarah Cloyse to the Honored
Court humbly showeth_, that, whereas we two sisters, Mary Easty and
Sarah Cloyse, stand now before the honored Court charged with the
suspicion of witchcraft, our humble request is—First, that, seeing we
are neither able to plead our own cause, nor is counsel allowed to
those in our condition, that you who are our judges would please to be
of counsel to us, to direct us wherein we may stand in need. Secondly,
that, whereas we are not conscious to ourselves of any guilt in the
least degree of that crime whereof we are now accused (in the presence
of the living God we speak it, before whose awful tribunal we know we
shall ere long appear), nor of any other scandalous evil or miscarriage
inconsistent with Christianity, those who have had the longest and best
knowledge of us, being persons of good report, may be suffered to
testify upon oath what they know concerning each of us; viz., Mr.
Capen, the pastor, and those of the town and church of Topsfield, who
are ready to say something which we hope may be looked upon as very
considerable in this matter, with the seven children of one of us;
viz., Mary Easty: and it may be produced of like nature in reference to
the wife of Peter Cloyse, her sister. Thirdly, that the testimony of
witches, or such as are afflicted as is supposed by witches, may not be
improved to[ii.327] condemn us without other legal evidence concurring.
We hope the honored Court and jury will be so tender of the lives of
such as we are, who have for many years lived under the unblemished
reputation of Christianity, as not to condemn them without a fair and
equal hearing of what may be said for us as well as against us. And
your poor suppliants shall be bound always to pray, &c."
The following was presented by Mary Easty to the judges after she had
received sentence of death. It would be hard to find, in all the
records of human suffering and of Christian deportment under them, a
more affecting production. It is a most beautiful specimen of strong
good-sense, pious fortitude and faith, genuine dignity of soul, noble
benevolence, and the true eloquence of a pure heart; and was evidently
composed by her own hand. It may be said of her—and there can be no
higher eulogium—that she felt for others more than for herself.