It is not a little remarkable that within a few days after the death of
Sarah Good, a part of her pretended prophecy, that which was directed
by her to the man who called her a witch at the place of death, was
verified upon him, letter by letter, as it were.
He was way-laid by a party of the Mohawks, and carried off to answer
to the tribe for having reported of them that they ate the flesh of
their captives.--It would appear that he had lived among them in his
youth, and that he was perfectly acquainted with their habits and
opinions and with their mode of warfare; that he had been well treated
by their chief, who let him go free at a time when he might lawfully
have been put to death, according to the usages of the tribe, and that
he could not possibly be mistaken about their eating the flesh of their
prisoners. It would appear too, that he had been watched for, a long
while before he was carried off; that his path had been beset hour
after hour, and week after week, by three young warriors of the tribe,
who might have shot him down, over and over again if they would, on
the step of his own door, in the heart of a populous village, but they
would not; for they had sworn to trap their prey alive, and to bring it
off with the hide and the hair on; that after they had carried him to
the territory of the Mohawks, they put him on trial for the charge face
to face with a red accuser; that they found him guilty, and that, with
a bitter laugh, they ordered him to eat of the flesh of a dead man
that lay bleeding on the earth before him; that he looked up and saw
the old chief who had been his father when he belonged to the tribe,
and that hoping to appease the haughty savage, he took some of the
detestable food into his mouth, and that instantly--instantly--before
he could utter a prayer, they fell upon him with clubs and beat him to
death.
Her prophecy therefore did appear to the people to be accomplished; for
had she not said to this very man, that for the work of that day, “He
should breathe blood and eat blood?”
Before a week had passed over, the story of death, and the speech
of the prophetess took a new shape, and a variety of circumstances
which occurred at the trial, and which were disregarded at the time,
were now thought of by the very judges of the land with a secret awe;
circumstances that are now to be detailed, for they were the true cause
of what will not be forgotten for ages in that part of the world ...
the catastrophe of our story.
At the trial of Sarah Good, while her face was turned away from her
accuser, one of the afflicted gave a loud scream, and gasping for
breath, fell upon the floor at the feet of the judges, and lay there as
if she had been struck down by the weight of no mortal arm; and being
lifted up, she swore that she had been stabbed with a knife by the
shape of Sarah Good, while Sarah Good herself was pretending to be at
prayer on the other side of the house; and for proof, she put her hand
into her bosom and drew forth the blade of a penknife which was bloody,
and which upon her oath, she declared to have been left sticking in her
flesh a moment before, by the shape of Sarah Good.
The Judges were thunderstruck. The people were mute with terror, and
the wretched woman herself covered her face with her hands; for she
knew that if she looked upon the sufferers, they would shriek out, and
foam at the mouth, and go into fits, and lie as if they were dead for a
while; and that she would be commanded by the judges to go up to them
and lay her hands upon their bodies without speaking or looking at
them, and that on her doing so, they would be sure to revive, and start
up, and speak of what they had seen or suffered while they were in what
they called their agony.
The jury were already on their way out for consultation--they could
not agree, it appeared; but when they saw this, they stopped at the
door, and came back one by one to the jury box, and stood looking at
each other, and at the judges, and at the poor old woman, as if they
no longer thought it necessary to withdraw even for form sake, afraid
as they all were of doing that, in a case of life and death, for which
they might one day or other be sorry. A shadow was upon every visage of
the twelve--the shadow of death; a look in the eyes of everybody there,
a gravity and a paleness, which when the poor prisoner saw, she started
up with a low cry--a cry of reproach--a cry of despair--and stood with
her hands locked, and her mouth quivering, and her lips apart before
God--lips white with fear, though not with the fear of death; and
looked about her on every side, as if she had no longer a hope left--no
hope from the jury, no hope from the multitude; nay as if while she had
no longer a hope, she had no longer a desire to live.
There was a dead preternatural quiet in the house--not a breath could
be heard now, not a breath nor a murmur; and lo! the aged foreman of
the jury stood forth and laid his hands upon the Book of the Law,
and lifted up his eyes and prepared to utter the verdict of death;
but before he could speak so as to be heard, for his heart was
over-charged with sorrow, a tumult arose afar off like the noise
of the wind in the great woods of America; or a heavy swell on the
sea-shore, when a surge after surge rolls booming in from the secret
reservoir of waters, like the tide of a new deluge. Voices drew near
with a portentous hoof-clatter from every side--east, west, north and
south, so that the people were mute with awe; and as the dread clamor
approached and grew louder and louder every moment, they crowded
together and held their breath, they and the judges and the preachers
and the magistrates, every man persuaded in his own soul that a rescue
was nigh. At last a smothered war-whoop was heard, and then a sweet
cheerful noise like the laugh of a young child high up in the air--and
then a few words in the accent of authority, and a bustle outside of
the door, which gave way as if it were spurned with a powerful foot;
and a stranger appeared in the shadow of the huge trees that over-hung
the door-way like a summer cloud--a low, square-built swarthy man with
a heavy tread, and a bright fierce look, tearing his way through the
crowd like a giant of old, and leading a beautiful boy by the hand.
What, ho! cried he to the chief judge, walking up to him, and standing
before him, and speaking to him with a loud clear voice. What ho!
captain Robert Sewall! why do ye this thing? What ho, there! addressing
himself to the foreman of the jury--why speed ye so to the work of
death? and you, master Bailey! and you governor Phips! and you doctor
Mather, what business have ye here? And you ye judges, who are about to
become the judges of life and death, how dare ye! Who gave you power to
measure and weigh such mystery? Are ye gifted men--all of you--every
man of you--specially gifted from above? Are you Thomas Fisk--with
your white hair blowing about your agitated mouth and your dim eyes,
are _you_ able to see your way clear, that you have the courage to
pronounce a verdict of death on your aged sister who stands there!
And you Josh Carter, senior! and you major Zach Trip! and you Job
Saltonstall! Who are ye and what are ye, men of war, that ye are able
to see spirits, or that ye should become what ye are--the judges of our
afflicted people! And who are we, and what were our fathers, I beseech
you, that we should be base enough to abide upon earth but by your
leave!
The judges looked at each other in consternation.
Who is it! ... who is it! cried the people as they rushed forward and
gathered about him and tried to get a sight of his face. Who _can_ it
be!
Burroughs--Bur--Bur--Burroughs, I _do_ believe! whispered a man who
stood at his elbow, but he spoke as if he did not feel very sure of
what he said.
Not George Burroughs, hey?
I’d take my oath of it neighbour Joe, my Bible-oath of it, leaning
forward as far as he could reach with safety, and shading his eyes with
his large bony hand--
Well, I _do_ say! whispered another.
I see the scar!--as I live, I do! cried another, peering over the heads
of the multitude, as they rocked to the heavy pressure of the intruder.
But how altered he is! ... and how old he looks!...--and shorter than
ever! muttered several more.
Silence there! cried the chief judge--a militia-captain, it is to be
observed, and of course not altogether so lawyer-like as a judge of our
day would be.
Silence there! echoed the High Sheriff.
Never see nobody so altered afore, continued one of the crowd, with
his eye fixed on the judge--I _will_ say that much, afore I stop, Mr.
Sheriff Berry, an’ (dropping his voice) if you don’t like it, you may
lump it ... who cares for you?
Well--an’ who cares for you, if you come to that.
Officer of the court, how now! cried the chief judge in a very loud
sharp voice.
Here I be mister judge--I ain’t deef.
Take that man away.
I say ... you! cried the High-Sheriff, getting up and fetching the man
a rap over the head with his white-oak staff ... do you hear that?
Hear what?
What Mr. judge Sewall says.
I don’t care for Mr. judge Sewall, nor you nyther.
Away with him Sir! out with him! are we to suffer this outrage on the
dignity of the court ... in the House of the Lord--away with him, Sir.
Here’s the devil to pay and no pitch hot--whispered a sailor-looking
fellow, in a red baize shirt.
An’ there’s thirteen-pence for you to pay, Mr. Outlandishman, said a
little neighbour, whose duty it was to watch for offenders in a small
way, and fine them for swearing, drinking, or kissing their wives on
the sabbath day.
What for?
Why, for that air oath o’yourn.
What oath?
Why, you said here’s the devil to pay!
Ha--ha--ha--and there’s thirteen-pence for _you_ to pay.
You be darned!
An’ there’s thirteen-pence more for you, my lad--ha--ha--ha--
The officer now drew near the individual he was ordered to remove; but
he did so as if a little afraid of his man--who stood up face to face
with the judge, and planted his foot as if he knew of no power on earth
able to move him, declaring he would’nt budge a peg, now they’d come to
that; for the house they were in had been paid for out of the people’s
money, and he’d as much right there as they had; but havin’ said what
he had to say on the subject, and bein’ pooty considr’ble easy on that
score now, if they’d mind their business he’d mind his; and if _they’d_
behave, he would.
Very well, said the chief judge, who knew the man to be a soldier of
tried bravery. Very well! you may stay where you are; I thought we
should bring you to your senses, neighbour Joe.
Here the stranger broke away from the crowd and leaped upon the
platform, and setting his teeth and smiting the floor with a heavy
iron-shod staff, he asked the judges why they did not enforce the
order? why with courage to take away life, they had no courage to
defend their authority. How dare ye forgive this man! said he; how dare
you bandy words with such a fellow! What if you _have_ been to the war
with him? Have ye not become the judges of the land? With hardihood
enough to undertake the awful representation of majesty, have ye not
enough to secure that majesty from outrage?
We know our own duty sir.
No such thing sir! you do not--if you do, it shall be the worse for
you. You are afraid of that man--
Afraid sir!--Who are you!
Yes--you are afraid of that man. If you are not, why allow him to
disturb the gravity of such an hour as this? Know your own power--Bid
the High-sheriff take him into custody.
A laugh here from the sturdy yeoman, who having paid his quota for
building the house, and fought his share of the fight with the
Indians, felt as free as the best of them.
Speak but the word, Sirs, and I will do what I see your officer hath
not valor enough to do. Speak but the word, Sirs! and I that know your
power, will obey it, (uplifting the staff as he spoke, while the fire
flashed from his eyes, and the crowd gave way on every side as if it
were the tomahawk or the bow of a savage)--speak but the word I say!
and I will strike him to the earth!
George Burroughs--I pray thee! said a female, who sat in a dark part of
the house with her head so muffled up that nobody could see her face--I
pray thee, George! do not strike thy brother in wrath.
Speak but the word I say, and lo! I will stretch him at your feet, if
he refuse to obey me, whatever may be the peril to me or mine.
I should like to see you do it, said the man. I care as little for you,
my boy,--throwing off his outer-garb as he spoke, and preparing for a
trial of strength on the spot--as little for you, George Burroughs, if
that is your name, as I do for your master.
Will you not speak! You see how afraid of him they all are, judges; you
know how long he has braved your authority--being a soldier forsooth.
Speak, if ye are wise; for if ye do not--
George! George!... No, no, George! said somebody at his elbow, with a
timid voice, that appeared to belong to a child.
The uplifted staff dropped from his hand.