by learned writers about witchcraft; as, Keeble on the Common Law,
chap. 'Conjuration' (an author approved by the twelve judges of our
nation): also, Sir Matthew Hale's Trials of Witches, printed anno 1682;
Glanvill's Collection of Sundry Trials in England and Ireland in the
years 1658, '61, '63, '64, and '81; Bernard's Guide to Jury-men;
Baxter's and R.B., their histories about Witches, and their
Discoveries; Cotton Mather's Memorable Providences relating to
Witchcraft, printed 1685."
So far as the medical profession at the time is concerned, it must be
admitted that they bear a full share of responsibility for the
proceedings. They gave countenance and currency to the idea of
witchcraft in the public mind, and were very generally in the habit,
when a patient did not do well under their prescriptions, of getting
rid of all difficulty by saying that "an evil hand" was upon him. Their
opinion to this effect is cited throughout, and appears in a large
number of the documents. There were coroners' juries in cases where it
was suspected that a person[ii.362] died of witchcraft. It is much to
be regretted that none of their verdicts have been preserved. Drawn up
by an attending "chirurgeon," they would illustrate the state of
professional science at that day, by informing us of the marks,
indications, and conditions of the bodily organization by which the
traces of the Devil's hand were believed to be discoverable. All we
know is that, in particular cases, as that of Bray Wilkins's grandson
Daniel, the jury found decisive proof that he had died by "an evil
hand."
It is not to be denied or concealed, that the clergy were instrumental
in bringing on the witchcraft delusion in 1692. As the supposed agents
of the mischief belonged to the supernatural and spiritual world, which
has ever been considered their peculiar province, it was thought that
the advice and co-operation of ministers were particularly appropriate
and necessary. Opposition to prevailing vices and attempts to reform
society were considered at that time in the light of a conflict with
Satan himself; and he was thought to be the ablest minister who had the
greatest power over the invisible enemy, and could most easily and
effectively avert his blows, and counteract his baleful influence. This
gave the clergy the front in the battle against the hosts of Belial.
They were proud of the position, and were stimulated to distinguish
themselves in the conflict. Cotton Mather represents that ministers
were honored by the special hostility of the great enemy of souls,
"more dogged by the Devil than any other men," just as, according to
his philosophy,[ii.363] the lightning struck the steeples of churches
more frequently than other buildings because the Prince of the Power of
the Air particularly hated the places where the sound of the gospel was
heard. There were, moreover, it is to be feared, ministers whose
ambition to acquire influence and power had been allowed to become a
ruling principle, and who favored the delusion because thereby their
object could be most surely achieved by carrying the people to the
greatest extremes of credulity, superstition, and fanatical blindness.
But justice requires it to be said that the ministers, as a general
thing, did not take the lead after the proceedings had assumed their
most violent aspect, and the disastrous effects been fully brought to
view. It may be said, on the contrary, that they took the lead, as a
class, in checking the delusion, and rescuing the public mind from its
control. Prior to the time when they were called upon to give their
advice to the government, they probably followed Cotton Mather: after
that, they seemed to have freed themselves generally from his
influence. The names of Dane and Barnard of Andover, Higginson of
Salem, Cheever of Marblehead, Hubbard and Wise of Ipswich, Payson and
Phillips of Rowley, Allin of Salisbury, and Capen of Topsfield, appear
in behalf of persons accused. To come forward in their defence shows
courage, and proves that their influence was in the right direction,
even while the proceedings were at their height. Mr. Hale, of Beverly,
abandoned the prosecutions, and ex[ii.364]pressed his disapprobation of
them, before the government or the Court relaxed the vigor of their
operations, as is sufficiently proved by the fact that the "afflicted
children" cried out against his wife. Willard, and James Allen, and
Moody, and John Bailey, and even Increase Mather, of Boston, openly
discountenanced the course things were taking. The latter circulated a
letter from his London correspondent, a person whose opinion was
entitled to weight, condemning in the strongest terms the doctrine of
the chief-justice, as follows: "All that I speak with much wonder that
any man, much less a man of such abilities, learning, and experience as
Mr. Stoughton, should take up a persuasion that the Devil cannot assume
the likeness of an innocent, to afflict another person. In my opinion,
it is a persuasion utterly destitute of any solid reason to render it
so much as probable." The ministers may have been among the first to
bring on the delusion; but the foregoing facts prove, that, as a
profession, they were the first to attempt to check and discountenance
the prosecutions. While we are required, in all fairness, to give this
credit to the clergy in general, it would be false to the obligations
of historical truth and justice to attempt to palliate the conduct of
some of them. Whoever considers all that Mr. Parris, according to his
own account, said and did, cannot but shrink from the necessity of
passing judgment upon him, and find relief in leaving him to that
tribunal which alone can measure the extent of human
responsibility,[ii.365] and sound the depths of the heart. Lawson threw
into the conflagration all the combustible materials his eloquence and
talents, heated, it is to be feared, by resentment, could contribute.
Dr. Bentley, in his "Description and History of Salem" (Mass. Hist.
Coll., 1st series, vol. vi.) says, "Mr. Noyes came out and publicly
confessed his error, never concealed a circumstance, never excused
himself; visited, loved, blessed, the survivors whom he had injured;
asked forgiveness always, and consecrated the residue of his life to
bless mankind." It is to be hoped that the statement is correct. There
were several points of agreement between Noyes and Bentley. Both were
men of ability and learning. Like Bentley, Noyes lived and died a
bachelor; and, like him, was a man of lively and active temperament,
and, in the general tenor of his life, benevolent and disinterested.
Perhaps congeniality in these points led Bentley to make the statement,
just quoted, a little too strong. He wrote more than a century after
the witchcraft proceedings; just at that point when tradition had
become inflated by all manner of current talk, of fable mixed with
fact, before the correcting and expunging hand of a severe scrutiny of
records and documents had commenced its work. The drag-net of time had
drawn along with it every thing that anybody had said; but the process
of sifting and discrimination had not begun. His kindly and ingenuous
nature led him to believe, and prompted him to write down, all that was
amiable, and pleasing to a mind like his. So far as the[ii.366] records
and documents give us information, there is reason to apprehend, that
Mr. Noyes, like Stoughton, another old bachelor, never recovered his
mind from the frame of feeling or conviction in which it was during the
proceedings. His name is not found, as are those of other ministers, to
any petitions, memorials or certificates, in favor of the sufferers
during the trials, or of reparation to their memories or to the
feelings of their friends. He does not appear to have taken any part in
arresting the delusion or rectifying the public mind.
Of Cotton Mather, more is required to be said. He aspired to be
considered the leading champion of the Church, and the most successful
combatant against the Satanic powers. He seems to have longed for an
opportunity to signalize himself in this particular kind of warfare;
seized upon every occurrence that would admit of such a coloring to
represent it as the result of diabolical agency; circulated in his
numerous publications as many tales of witchcraft as he could collect
throughout New and Old England, and repeatedly endeavored to get up
cases of the kind in Boston. There is some ground for suspicion that he
was instrumental in originating the fanaticism in Salem; at any rate,
he took a leading part in fomenting it. And while there is evidence
that he endeavored, after the delusion subsided, to escape the disgrace
of having approved of the proceedings, and pretended to have been in
some measure opposed to them, it can be too clearly shown that he was
secretly and cunningly endeavoring to[ii.367] renew them during the
next year in his own parish in Boston.[E]
How blind is man to the future! The state of things which Cotton Mather
labored to bring about, in order that he might increase his own
influence over an infatuated people, by being regarded by them as
mighty[ii.368] to cast out and vanquish evil spirits, and as able to
hold Satan himself in chains by his prayers and his piety, brought him
at length into such disgrace that his power was broken down, and he
became the object of public ridicule and open insult. And the
excitement that had been produced for the purpose of[ii.369] restoring
and strengthening the influence of the clerical and spiritual leaders
resulted in effects which reduced that influence to a still lower
point. The intimate connection of Dr. Mather and other prominent
ministers with the witchcraft delusion brought a reproach upon the
clergy from which they have not yet recovered.[ii.370]
In addition to the designing exertions of ambitious ecclesiastics, and
the benevolent and praiseworthy efforts of those whose only aim was to
promote a real and thorough reformation of religion, all the passions
of our nature stood ready to throw their concentrated energy into the
excitement (as they are sure to do, whatever may be its character), so
soon as it became sufficiently strong to encourage their action.
The whole force of popular superstition, all the[ii.371] fanatical
propensities of the ignorant and deluded multitude, united with the
best feelings of our nature to heighten the fury of the storm. Piety
was indignant at the supposed rebellion against the sovereignty of God,
and was roused to an extreme of agitation and apprehension in
witnessing such a daring and fierce assault by the Devil and his
adherents upon the churches and the cause of the gospel. Virtue was
shocked at the tremendous guilt of those who were believed to have
entered the diabolical confederacy; while public order and security
stood aghast, amidst the invisible, the supernatural, the infernal, and
apparently the irresistible attacks that were making upon the
foundations of society. In baleful combination with principles, good in
themselves, thus urging the passions into wild operation, there were
all the wicked and violent affections to which humanity is liable.
Theological bitterness, personal animosities, local controversies,
private feuds, long-cherished grudges, and professional jealousies,
rushed forward, and raised their discordant voices, to swell the
horrible din; credulity rose with its monstrous and ever-expanding
form, on the ruins of truth, reason, and the senses; malignity and
cruelty rode triumphant through the storm, by whose fury every mild and
gentle sentiment had been shipwrecked; and revenge, smiling in the
midst of the tempest, welcomed its desolating wrath as it dashed the
mangled objects of its hate along the shore.
The treatment of the prisoners, by the administra[ii.372]tive and
subordinate officers in charge of them, there is reason to apprehend,
was more than ordinarily harsh and unfeeling. The fate of Willard
prevented expressions of kindness towards them. The crime of which they
were accused put them outside of the pale of human charities. All who
believed them guilty looked upon them, not only with horror, but hate.
To have deliberately abandoned God and heaven, the salvation of Christ
and the brotherhood of man, was regarded as detestable, execrable, and
utterly and for ever damnable. This was the universal feeling at the
time when the fanaticism was at its height; or, if there were any
dissenters, they dared not show themselves. What the poor innocent
sufferers experienced of cruelty, wrong, and outrage from this cause,
it is impossible for words to tell. It left them in prison to neglect,
ignominious ill-treatment, and abusive language from the menials having
charge of them; it made their trials a brutal mockery; it made the
pathway to the gallows a series of insults from an exasperated mob. If
dear relatives or faithful friends kept near them, they did it at the
peril of their lives, and were forbidden to utter the sentiments with
which their hearts were breaking. There was no sympathy for those who
died, or for those who mourned.
It may seem strange to us, at this distance of time, and with the
intelligence prevalent in this age, that persons of such known,
established, and eminent reputation as many of those whose cases have
been par[ii.373]ticularly noticed, could possibly have been imagined
guilty of the crime imputed to them. The question arises in every mind,
Why did not their characters save them from conviction, and even from
suspicion? The answer is to be found in the peculiar views then
entertained of the power and agency of Satan. It was believed that it
would be one of the signs of his coming to destroy the Church of
Christ, that some of the "elect" would be seduced into his
service,—that he would drag captive in his chains, and pervert into
instruments to further his wicked cause, many who stood among the
highest in the confidence of Christians. This belief made them more
vehement in their proceedings against ministers, church-members, and
persons of good repute, who were proved, by the overwhelming evidence
of the "afflicted children" and the confessing witches, to have made a
compact with the Devil. There is reason to fear that Mr. Burroughs, and
all accused persons of the highest reputation before for piety and
worth, especially all who had been professors of religion and
accredited church-members, suffered more than others from the severity
of the judges and executive officers of the law, and from the rage and
hatred of the people. It was indeed necessary, in order to keep up the
delusion and maintain the authority of the prosecutions, to break down
the influence of those among the accused and the sufferers who had
stood the highest, and bore themselves the best through the fiery
ordeal of the examinations, trials, and executions.[ii.374]
It is indeed a very remarkable fact, which has justly been enlarged
upon by several who have had their attention turned to this subject,
that, of the whole number that suffered, none, in the final scene, lost
their fortitude for a moment. Many were quite aged; a majority, women,
of whom some, brought up in delicacy, were wholly unused to rough
treatment or physical suffering. They must have undergone the most
dreadful hardships, suddenly snatched from their families and homes;
exposed to a torrent of false accusations imputing to them the most
odious, shameful, and devilish crimes; made objects of the abhorrence
of their neighbors, and, through the notoriety of the affair, of the
world; carried to and fro, over rugged roads, from jail to jail, too
often by unfeeling sub-officials; immured in crowded, filthy, and
noisome prisons; heavily loaded with chains, in dungeons; left to
endure insufficient attention to necessary personal wants, often with
inadequate food and clothing; all expressions of sympathy for them
withheld and forbidden,—those who ought to have been their comforters
denouncing them in the most awful language, and consigning them to the
doom of excommunication from the church on earth and from the hope of
heaven. Surely, there have been few cases in the dark and mournful
annals of human suffering and wrong, few instances of "man's inhumanity
to man," to be compared with what the victims of this tragedy endured.
Their bearing through the whole, from the arrest to the scaffold,
reflects[ii.375] credit upon our common nature. The fact that Wardwell
lost his firmness, for a time, ought not to exclude his name from the
honored list. Its claim to be enrolled on it was nobly retrieved by his
recantation, and his manly death.
There is one consideration that imparts a higher character to the
deportment of these persons than almost any of the tests to which the
firmness of the mind of man has ever been exposed. There was nothing
outside of the mind to hold it up, but every thing to bear it down. All
that they had in this world, all on which they could rest a hope for
the next, was the consciousness of their innocence. Their fidelity to
this sense of innocence—for a lie would have saved them—their
unfaltering allegiance to this consciousness; the preservation of a
calm, steadfast, serene mind; their faith and their prayers, rising
above the maledictions of a maniac mob, in devotion to God and
forgiveness to men, and, as in the case of Martha Corey and George
Burroughs, in clear and collected expressions,—this was truly sublime.
It was appreciated, at the time, by many a heart melted back to its
humanity; and paved the way for the deliverance of the world, we trust
for ever, from all such delusions, horrors, and spectacles. The
sufferers in 1692 deserve to be held in grateful remembrance for having
illustrated the dignity of which our nature is capable; for having
shown that integrity of conscience is an armor which protects the peace
of the soul against all the powers that can assail it; and for having
given an[ii.376] example, that will be seen of all and in all times, of
a courage, constancy, and faithfulness of which all are capable, and
which can give the victory over infirmities of age, weaknesses and
pains of body, and the most appalling combination of outrages to the
mind and heart that can be accumulated by the violence and the wrath of
man. Superstition and ignorance consigned their names to obloquy, and
shrouded them in darkness. But the day has dawned; the shadows are
passing away; truth has risen; the reign of superstition is over; and
justice will be done to all who have been true to themselves, and stood
fast to the integrity of their souls, even to the death.
The place selected for the executions is worthy of notice. It was at a
considerable distance from the jail, and could be reached only by a
circuitous and difficult route. It is a fatiguing enterprise to get at
it now, although many passages that approach it from some directions
have since been opened. But it was a point where the spectacle would be
witnessed by the whole surrounding country far and near, being on the
brow of the highest eminence in the vicinity of the town. As it was
believed by the people generally that they were engaged in a great
battle with Satan, one of whose titles was "the Prince of the Power of
the Air," perhaps they chose that spot to execute his confederates,
because, in going to that high point, they were flaunting him in his
face, celebrating their triumph over him in his own realm. There is no
contemporaneous nor immediately subsequent record, that[ii.377] the
executions took place on the spot assigned by tradition; but that
tradition has been uniform and continuous, and appears to be verified
by a singular item of evidence that has recently come to light. A
letter written by the late venerable Dr. Holyoke to a friend at a
distance, dated Salem, Nov. 25, 1791, has found its way back to the
possession of one of his grand-daughters, which contains the following
passage: "In the last month, there died a man in this town, by the name
of John Symonds, aged a hundred years lacking about six months, having
been born in the famous '92. He has told me that his nurse had often
told him, that, while she was attending his mother at the time she lay
in with him, she saw, from the chamber windows, those unhappy people
hanging on Gallows' Hill, who were executed for witches by the delusion
of the times." John Symonds lived and died near the southern end of
Beverly Bridge, on the south side of what is now Bridge Street. He was
buried from his house, and Dr. Bentley made the funeral prayer, in
which he is said to have used this language: "O God! the man who with
his own hands felled the trees, and hewed the timbers, and erected the
house in which we are now assembled, was the ancestor of him whose
remains we are about to inter." It is inferrible from this that Symonds
was born in the house from which he was buried. Gallows Hill, now
"Witch Hill" is in full view from that spot, and would be from the
chamber windows of a house there, at any time, even in the season when
intervening trees were in their[ii.378] fullest foliage, while no other
point in that direction would be discernible. From the only other
locality of persons of the name of Symonds, at that time, in North
Fields near the North Bridge, Witch Hill is also visible, and the only
point in that direction that then would have been.
"Witch Hill" is a part of an elevated ledge of rock on the western side
of the city of Salem, broken at intervals; beginning at Legg's Hill,
and trending northerly. The turnpike from Boston enters Salem through
one of the gaps in this ridge, which has been widened, deepened, and
graded. North of the turnpike, it rises abruptly to a considerable
elevation, called "Norman's Rocks." At a distance of between three and
four hundred feet, it sinks again, making a wide and deep gulley; and
then, about a third of a mile from the turnpike, it re-appears, in a
precipitous and, at its extremity, inaccessible cliff, of the height of
fifty or sixty feet. Its southern and western aspect, as seen from the
rough land north of the turnpike, is given in the headpiece of the
Third Part, at the beginning of this volume. Its sombre and desolate
appearance admits of little variety of delineation. It is mostly a bare
and naked ledge. At the top of this cliff, on the southern brow of the
eminence, the executions are supposed to have taken place. The outline
rises a little towards the north, but soon begins to fall off to the
general level of the country. From that direction only can the spot be
easily reached. It is hard to climb the western side, impossible to
clamber[ii.379] up the southern face. Settlement creeps down from the
north, and has partially ascended the eastern acclivity, but can never
reach the brink. Scattered patches of soil are too thin to tempt
cultivation, and the rock is too craggy and steep to allow occupation.
An active and flourishing manufacturing industry crowds up to its base;
but a considerable surface at the top will for ever remain an open
space. It is, as it were, a platform raised high in air.
A magnificent panorama of ocean, island, headland, bay, river, town,
field, and forest spreads out and around to view. On a clear summer
day, the picture can scarcely be surpassed. Facing the sun and the sea,
and the evidences of the love and bounty of Providence shining over the
landscape, the last look of earth must have suggested to the sufferers
a wide contrast between the mercy of the Creator and the wrath of his
creatures. They beheld the face of the blessed God shining upon them in
his works, and they passed with renewed and assured faith into his more
immediate presence. The elevated rock, uplifted by the divine hand,
will stand while the world stands, in bold relief, and can never be
obscured by the encroachments of society or the structures of art,—a
fitting memorial of their constancy.