When, in some coming day, a sense of justice, appreciation of moral

firmness, sympathy for suffering innocence, the diffusion of refined

sensibility, a discriminating discernment of what is really worthy of

commemoration among men, a rectified taste, a gen[ii.380]erous public

spirit, and gratitude for the light that surrounds and protects us

against error, folly, and fanaticism, shall demand the rearing of a

suitable monument to the memory of those who in 1692 preferred death to

a falsehood, the pedestal for the lofty column will be found ready,

reared by the Creator on a foundation that can never be shaken while

the globe endures, or worn away by the elements, man, or time—the brow

of Witch Hill. On no other spot could such a tribute be more worthily

bestowed, or more conspicuously displayed.

The effects of the delusion upon the country at large were very

disastrous. It cast its shadows over a broad surface, and they darkened

the condition of generations. The material interests of the people long

felt its blight. Breaking out at the opening of the season, it

interrupted the planting and cultivating of the grounds. It struck an

entire summer out of one year, and broke in upon another. The fields

were neglected; fences, roads, barns, and even the meeting-house, went

into disrepair. Burdens were accumulated upon the already over-taxed

resources of the people. An actual scarcity of provisions, amounting

almost to a famine, continued for some time to press upon families.

Farms were brought under mortgage or sacrificed, and large numbers of

the people were dispersed. One locality in the village, which was the

scene of this wild and tragic fanaticism, bears to this day the marks

of the blight then brought upon it. Although in the centre of a town

exceeding almost[ii.381] all others in its agricultural development and

thrift,—every acre elsewhere showing the touch of modern improvement

and culture,—the "old meeting-house road," from the crossing of the

Essex Railroad to the point where it meets the road leading north from

Tapleyville, has to-day a singular appearance of abandonment. The

Surveyor of Highways ignores it. The old, gray, moss-covered stone

walls are dilapidated, and thrown out of line. Not a house is on either

of its borders, and no gate opens or path leads to any. Neglect and

desertion brood over the contiguous grounds. Indeed, there is but one

house standing directly on the roadside until you reach the vicinity of

the site of the old meeting-house; and that is owned and occupied by a

family that bear the name and are the direct descendants of Rebecca

Nurse. On both sides there are the remains of cellars, which declare

that once it was lined by a considerable population. Along this road

crowds thronged in 1692, for weeks and months, to witness the

examinations.

The ruinous results were not confined to the village, but extended more

or less over the country generally. Excitement, wrought up to

consternation, spread everywhere. People left their business and

families, and came from distant points, to gratify their curiosity, and

enable themselves to form a judgment of the character of the phenomena

here exhibited. Strangers from all parts swelled the concourse,

gathered to behold the sufferings of "the afflicted" as manifested at

the examinations; and flocked to the surrounding[ii.382] eminences and

the grounds immediately in front of Witch Hill, to catch a view of the

convicts as they approached the place selected for their execution,

offered their dying prayers, and hung suspended high in air. Such

scenes always draw together great multitudes. None have possessed a

deeper, stronger, or stranger attraction; and never has the dread

spectacle been held out to view over a wider area, or from so

conspicuous a spot. The assembling of such multitudes so often, for

such a length of time, and from such remote quarters, must have been

accompanied and followed by wasteful, and in all respects deleterious,

effects. The continuous or frequently repeated sessions of the

magistrates, grand jury, and jury of trials; and the attendance of

witnesses summoned from other towns, or brought from beyond the

jurisdiction of the Province, and of families and parties interested

specially in the proceedings,—must have occasioned an extensive and

protracted interruption of the necessary industrial pursuits of

society, and heavily increased the public burdens.

The destruction dealt upon particular families extended to so many as

to constitute in the aggregate a vast, wide-spread calamity.[F]

[ii.383]

The facts that belong to the story of the witchcraft delusion of 1692,

or that may in any way explain or illustrate it, so far as they can be

gathered from the imperfect and scattered records and papers that have

come down to us, have now been laid before you. But there are one or

two inquiries that force themselves upon thoughtful minds, which demand

consideration before we close the subject.[ii.384]

What are we to think of those persons who commenced and continued the

accusations,—the "afflicted children" and their associates?

In some instances and to some extent, the steps they took and the

testimony they bore may be explained by referring to the mysterious

energies of the imagination, the power of enthusiasm, the influence of

sympathy, and the general prevalence of credulity,[ii.385] ignorance,

superstition, and fanaticism at the time; and it is not probable, that,

when they began, they had any idea of the tremendous length to which

they were finally led on.

It was perhaps their original design to gratify a love of notoriety or

of mischief by creating a sensation and excitement in their

neighborhood, or, at the worst, to wreak their vengeance upon one or

two individuals who had offended them. They soon, however, became

intoxicated by the terrible success of their imposture, and were swept

along by the frenzy they had occasioned. It would be much more

congenial with our feelings to believe, that these misguided and

wretched young persons early in the proceedings became themselves

victims of the delusion into which they plunged every one else. But we

are forbidden to form this charitable judgment by the manifestations of

art and contrivance, of deliberate cunning and cool malice, they

exhibited to the end. Once or twice they were caught in their own

snare; and nothing but the blindness of the bewildered community saved

them from disgraceful exposure and well-deserved punishment. They

appeared as the prosecutors of every poor creature that was tried, and

seemed ready to bear testimony against any one upon whom suspicion

might happen to fall. It is dreadful to reflect upon the enormity of

their wickedness, if they were conscious of imposture throughout. It

seems to transcend the capabilities of human crime. There is, perhaps,

a slumbering element in the heart of man,[ii.386] that sleeps for ever

in the bosom of the innocent and good, and requires the perpetration of

a great sin to wake it into action, but which, when once aroused,

impels the transgressor onward with increasing momentum, as the

descending ball is accelerated in its course. It may be that crime

begets an appetite for crime, which, like all other appetites, is not

quieted but inflamed by gratification.

Their precise moral condition, the degree of guilt to be ascribed, and

the sentence to be passed upon them, can only be determined by a

considerate review of all the circumstances and influences around them.

For a period embracing about two months, they had been in the habit of

meeting together, and spending the long winter evenings, at Mr.

Parris's house, practising the arts of fortune-telling, jugglery, and

magic. What they had heard in the traditions and fables of a credulous

and superstitious age,—stories handed down in the interior settlements,

circulated in companies gathered around the hearths of farmhouses,

indulging the excitements of terrified imaginations; filling each

other's minds with wondrous tales of second-sight, ghosts and spirits

from the unseen world, together with what the West-Indian or

South-American slaves could add,—was for a long time the food of their

fancies. They experimented continually upon what was the spiritualism

of their day, and grew familiar with the imagery and the exhibitions of

the marvellous. The prevalent notions concerning witch[ii.387]craft

operations and spectral manifestations came into full effect among

them. Living in the constant contemplation of such things, their minds

became inflamed and bewildered; and, at the same time, they grew expert

in practising and exhibiting the forms of pretended supernaturalism,

the conditions of diabolical distraction, and the terrors of

demonology. Apparitions rose before them, revealing the secrets of the

past and of the future. They beheld the present spectres of persons

then bodily far distant. They declared in language, fits, dreams, or

trance, the immediate operations upon themselves of the Devil, by the

agency of his confederates. Their sufferings, while thus under "an evil

hand," were dreadful to behold, and soon drew wondering and

horror-struck crowds around them.

At this point, if Mr. Parris, the ministers, and magistrates had done

their duty, the mischief might have been stopped. The girls ought to

have been rebuked for their dangerous and forbidden sorceries and

divinations, their meetings broken up, and all such tamperings with

alleged supernaturalism and spiritualism frowned down. Instead of this,

the neighboring ministers were summoned to meet at Mr. Parris's house

to witness the extraordinary doings of the girls, and all they did was

to indorse, and pray over, them. Countenance was thus given to their

pretensions, and the public confidence in the reality of their

statements established. Magistrates from the town, church-members,

leading people, and people of all sorts, flocked to witness the awful

power of Satan, as displayed in[ii.388] the tortures and contortions of

the "afflicted children;" who became objects of wonder, so far as their

feats were regarded, and of pity in view of their agonies and

convulsions.

The aspect of the evidence rather favors the supposition, that the

girls originally had no design of accusing, or bringing injury upon,

any one. But the ministers at Parris's house, physicians and others,

began the work of destruction by pronouncing the opinion that they were

bewitched. This carried with it, according to the received doctrine, a

conviction that there were witches about; for the Devil could not act

except through the instrumentality of beings in confederacy with him.

Immediately, the girls were beset by everybody to say who it was that

bewitched them. Yielding to this pressure, they first cried out upon

such persons as might have been most naturally suggested to them,—Sarah

Good, apparently without a regular home, and wandering with her

children from house to house for shelter and relief; Sarah Osburn, a

melancholy, broken-minded, bed-ridden person; and Tituba, a slave,

probably of mixed African and Indian blood. At the examination of these

persons, the girls were first brought before the public, and the awful

power in their hands revealed to them. The success with which they

acted their parts; the novelty of the scene; the ceremonials of the

occasion, the magistrates in their imposing dignity and authority, the

trappings of the marshal and his officers, the forms of proceeding,—all

which they had never seen[ii.389] before; the notice taken of them; the

importance attached to them; invested the affair with a strange

fascination in their eyes, and awakened a new class of sentiments and

ideas in their minds. A love of distinction and notoriety, and the

several passions that are gratified by the expression by others of

sympathy, wonder, and admiration, were brought into play. The fact that

all eyes were upon them, with the special notice of the magistrates,

and the entire confidence with which their statements were received,

flattered and beguiled them. A fearful responsibility had been assumed,

and they were irretrievably committed to their position. While they

adhered to that position, their power was irresistible, and they were

sure of the public sympathy and of being cherished by the public favor.

If they faltered, they would be the objects of universal execration and

of the severest penalties of law for the wrongs already done and the

falsehoods already sworn to. There was no retracing their steps; and

their only safety was in continuing the excitement they had raised. New

victims were constantly required to prolong the delusion, fresh fuel to

keep up the conflagration; and they went on to cry out upon others.

With the exception of two of their number, who appear to have indulged

spite against the families in which they were servants, there is no

evidence that they were actuated by private grievances or by

animosities personal to themselves. They were ready and sure to wreak

vengeance upon any who expressed doubts about the truth of

their[ii.390] testimony, or the propriety of the proceedings; but,

beyond this, they were very indifferent as to whom they should accuse.

They were willing, as to that matter, to follow the suggestions of

others, and availed themselves of all the gossip and slander and

unfriendly talk in their families that reached their ears. It was

found, that a hint, with a little information as to persons, places,

and circumstances, conveyed to them by those who had resentments and

grudges to gratify, would be sufficient for the purpose. There is

reason to fear, that there were some behind them, giving direction to

the accusations, and managing the frightful machinery, all the way

through. The persons who were apprehended had, to a considerable

extent, been obnoxious, and subject to prejudice, in connection with

quarrels and controversies related in Part I., vol. i. They were

"Topsfield men," or the opponents of Bayley or of Parris, or more or

less connected with some other feuds. As further proof that the girls

were under the guidance of older heads, it is obvious, that there was,

in the order of the proceedings, a skilful arrangement of times,

sequences, and concurrents, that cannot be ascribed to them. No

novelist or dramatist ever laid his plot deeper, distributed his

characters more artistically, or conducted more methodically the

progress of his story.

In the mean while, they were becoming every day more perfect in the

performance of their parts; and their imaginative powers, nervous

excitability, and flexibility and rapidity of muscular action, were

kept[ii.391] under constant stimulus, and attaining a higher

development. The effect of these things, so long continued in

connection with the perpetual pretence, becoming more or less imbued

with the character of belief, of their alliance and communion with

spiritual beings and manifestations, may have unsettled, to some

extent, their minds. Added to this, a sense of the horrid consequences

of their actions, accumulating with every pang they inflicted, the

innocent blood they were shedding, and the depths of ruin into which

they were sinking themselves and others, not only demoralized, but to

some extent, perhaps, crazed them. It is truly a marvel that their

physical constitutions did not break down under the exhausting

excitements, the contortions of frame, the force to which the bodily

functions were subjected in trances and fits, and the strain upon all

the vital energies, protracted through many months. The wonder,

however, would have been greater, if the mental and moral balance had

not thereby been disturbed.

Perpetual conversance with ideas of supernaturalism; daily and nightly

communications, whether in the form of conscious imposture or honest

delusion, with the spiritual world, continued through a great length of

time,—as much at least as the exclusive contemplation of any one idea

or class of ideas,—must be allowed to be unsalutary. Whatever keeps the

thoughts wholly apart from the objects of real and natural life, and

absorbs them in abstractions, cannot be favorable to the soundness of

the faculties or the tone of the[ii.392] mind. This must especially be

the effect, if the subjects thus monopolizing the attention partake of

the marvellous and mysterious. When these things are considered, and

the external circumstances of the occasion, the wild social excitement,

the consternation, confusion, and horror, that were all crowded and

heaped up and kept pressing upon the soul without intermission for

months, the wonder is, indeed, that not only the accusers, prosecutors,

and sufferers, but the whole people, did not lose their senses. Never

was the great boon of life, a sound mind in a sound body, more liable

to be snatched away from all parties. The depositions of Ann Putnam,

Sr., have a tinge of sadness;—a melancholy, sickly mania running

through them. Something of the kind is, perhaps, more or less

discernible in the depositions of others.

Let us, then, relieve our common nature from the load of the

imputation, that, in its normal state, it is capable of such

inconceivable wickedness, by giving to these wretched persons the

benefit of the supposition that they were more or less deranged. This

view renders the lesson they present more impressive and alarming. Sin

in all cases, when considered by a mind that surveys the whole field,

is itself insanity. In the case of these accusers, it was so great as

to prove, by its very monstrousness, that it had actually subverted

their nature and overthrown their reason. They followed their victims

to the gallows, and jeered, scoffed, insulted them in their dying

hours. Sarah Churchill, according to the testimony of Sarah

Inger[ii.393]soll, on one occasion came to herself, and manifested the

symptoms of a restored moral consciousness: but it was a temporary

gleam, a lucid interval; and she passed back into darkness, continuing,

as before, to revel in falsehood, and scatter destruction around her.

With this single exception, there is not the slightest appearance of

compunction or reflection among them. On the contrary, they seem to

have been in a frivolous, sportive, gay frame of thought and spirits.

There is, perhaps, in this view of their conduct and demeanor,

something to justify the belief that they were really demented. The

fact that a large amount of skilful art and adroit cunning was

displayed by them is not inconsistent with the supposition that they

had become partially insane; for such cunning and art are often

associated with insanity.

The quick wit and ready expedients of the "afflicted children" are very

remarkable. They were prompt with answers, if any attempted to

cross-examine them, extricated themselves most ingeniously if ever

brought into embarrassment, and eluded all efforts to entrap or expose

them. Among the papers is a deposition, the use of which at the trials

is not apparent. It does not purport to bear upon any particular case.

Joseph Hutchinson was a firm-minded man, of strong common sense. He

could not easily be deceived; and, although he took part in the

proceedings at the beginning, soon became opposed to them. It looks as

if, by close questions put to the child, Abigail Williams, on some

occasion of his casually meeting her, he had tried[ii.394] to expose

the falseness of her accusations, and that he was made to put the

conversation into the shape of a deposition. It is as follows:—

"The Deposition of Joseph Hutchinson, aged fifty-nine years, do testify

as followeth: "Abigail Williams, I have heard you speak often of a book

that has been offered to you. She said that there were two books: one

was a short, thick book; and the other was a long book. I asked her

what color the book was of. She said the books were as red as blood. I

asked her if she had seen the books opened. She said she had seen it

many times. I asked her if she did see any writing in the book. She

said there were many lines written; and, at the end of every line,

there was a seal. I asked her, who brought the book to her. She told me

that it was the black man. I asked her who the black man was. She told

me it was the Devil. I asked her if she was not afraid to see the

Devil. She said, at the first she was, and did go from him; but now she

was not afraid, but could talk with him as well as she could with me."

There is an air of ease and confidence in the answers of Abigail, which

illustrates the promptness of invention and assurance of their grounds

which the girls manifested on all occasions. They were never at a loss,

and challenged scrutiny. Hutchinson gained no advantage, and no one

else ever did, in an encounter with them.

Salem Witchcraft, Volumes I and II With an Account of Salem Village and a History of Opinions on Witchcraft and Kindred Subjects · 第 56 / 72 段