In the month of September, 1692, they believed themselves in the thick
of "the fight between the Devil and the Lamb." Cotton Mather was nimble
and triumphant on the Witches' Hill whenever there were "firebrands of
hell" swinging there; and they all hoped to do much good work for the
Lord yet, for they had lists of suspected persons in their pockets, who
must be brought into the courts month by month, and carted off to the
hill. One of the gayest and most complacent letters on the subject of
this "fight" in the correspondence of Cotton Mather is dated on the 20th
of September, 1692, within a month of the day when he was improving the
occasion at the foot of the gallows where the former pastor, Rev. George
Burroughs, and four others were hung. In the interval fifteen more
received sentence of death; Giles Corey had died his fearful death the
day before; and in two days after, Corey's widow and seven more were
hanged. Mather, Noyes, and Parris had no idea that these eight would be
the last. But so it was. Thus far, one only had escaped after being made
sure of in the courts. The married daughter of a clergyman had been
condemned, was reprieved by the Governor, and was at last discharged on
the ground of the insufficiency of the evidence. Henceforth, after that
fearful September day, no evidence was found sufficient. The accusers
had grown too audacious in their selection of victims; their clerical
patrons had become too openly determined to give no quarter. The Rev.
Francis Dane signed memorials to the Legislature and the Courts on
the 18th of October, against the prosecutions. He had reason to know
something about them, for we hear of nine at least of his children,
grandchildren, relatives, and servants who had been brought under
accusation. He pointed out the snare by which the public mind, as well
as the accused themselves, had been misled--the escape afforded to such
as would confess. When one spoke out, others followed. When a reasonable
explanation was afforded, ordinary people were only too thankful to
seize upon it. Though the prisons were filled, and the courts occupied
over and over again, there were no more horrors; the accused were all
acquitted; and in the following May, Sir William Phipps discharged all
the prisoners by proclamation. "Such a jail-delivery has never been
known in New England," is the testimony handed down. The Governor was
aware that the clergy, magistrates, and judges, hitherto active, were
full of wrath at his course but public opinion now demanded a reversal
of the administration of the last fearful year.