The chief judge would not reply--could not perhaps, till after he and
his brothers had prayed together; and when he did speak, he spoke with
a subdued voice, like one troubled with fear.
Gentlemen of the jury, said he; I have but a few words to urge in reply.
1. You have been told that one should be a witch to prove that she is
not guilty of witchcraft. I admire the ingenuity of the speaker; but
my answer is, that by the same rule, a man should be a wizard to prove
that he is not a manslayer--he being _proved_ a manslayer. And yet,
_being_ proved a manslayer, we put him to death. So here--being proved
a witch, if you are satisfied by the proof, we put the prisoner to
death, even though it would require the exertion of diabolical power to
overthrow the proof.
2. You are told by one speaker that we are prone to believe in the
marvellous; and that, therefore, when a marvellous thing is related, we
ought to be on our guard against that proneness to belief, and require
more proof. Now it appears to me that if we are prone to a belief in
the marvellous, instead of requiring more proof to witchcraft, we
should require less. For why require much, if less will do?
3. But by another, it has been said that we are _not_ prone to belief
in the marvellous; that on the contrary, so prone are we to disbelieve
in what may appear marvellous, that proof, which we would be satisfied
with in the ordinary affairs of life, we should pay no regard to,
if it were adduced in favor of what we consider preternatural; and
that therefore in the case you are now to try, you should require
more proof than you would in support of a charge not marvellous. To
which we reply--that where you have the same number of witnesses, of
the same character, in support of a marvellous charge, you _actually
have more proof_, than you would have in the like testimony of the
same witnesses, to a charge not marvellous. And why?--Because by the
supposition of the speaker, as they are prone to a _disbelief_ in the
marvellous, _they_ would have required much proof, and would not have
been persuaded to believe what they testify to, but upon irresistable
proof--more proof than would have satisfied them in the ordinary
affairs of life.
4. It has been said moreover--that the greater the crime charged,
the more incredible it is; that great crimes are perpetrated less
frequently than small ones; and that, therefore, more proof should be
required of parricide than of theft. Our reply to which is, that if
a witness declare to a parricide on oath, _you have more proof_ than
you would have to a theft sworn to by the very same witness; that,
if the greater the crime, the less credible it is, you are bound to
attach more value to his testimony where he testifies to parricide than
where he testifies to theft. And why?--Because, the greater the crime
charged, the greater the crime of the witness if he charge falsely;
and therefore the less likely is it, by the supposition, that he does
charge falsely.
But here I would have you observe that proof is proof, and that
after all, the proof which at law or otherwise would be enough to
establish one charge, would be enough to establish any other. In every
case you are to be satisfied--you are to believe: and in the case
now before you, perhaps it may be well for you to look upon the two
improbabilities which I have now spoken of, as neutralizing each other.
If witchcraft is incredible--it is incredible also that one should
falsely charge another with witchcraft.
5. It has been said too that the witnesses contradict each other. Be
it so. I confess that I see no such contradiction--but if I did, I
might be called upon to say that perjured witnesses are remarkable
for the plausibility and straight-forwardness of their stories; and
that such plausibility and straight-forwardness are now regarded, like
unanimity, as a sign of bad-faith by judges of experience. You are to
be told moreover, that where slight contradictions appear in what may
be said by several witnesses to the same fact, such contradictions
are a sign of good-faith--showing that no preconcerted story has been
told. I might refer, and I may venture to do so perhaps, in a matter
of such awful moment, to the gospels in proof. It is a mighty argument
for their truth my friends, that no two of them perfectly agree--no two
of the whole as they could have agreed, if, as there have been people
wicked enough to say (though not to believe) they had been prepared for
deception by a body of conspirators----
Brother--brother--put off thy shoes ... the ground is holy--said
Governor Phips.
I have.... I have--
The people groaned aloud.
----If you were called upon, each of you, five years from to-day, to
give a particular account of what you now see and hear, and if each of
you depended upon himself, your stories would be unlike; but if you
consulted together, your stories would be sure to approximate. So much
for this head.
6. I have gone so far as to say that proof is proof, whatever may be
the case; but I do not say that you are to require at any time, in any
case, more proof than the nature of the case will admit of. In other
words, you are not to insist upon the same sort and degree of proof in
every case. You are to be satisfied with such proof as you can get--if
you suppose that none better is left behind. So says the law--
Nonsense--for if that rule is good, you might prove any-thing--_by_ any
thing, said Burroughs.
Be quiet Sir ... few people see spectres; and witches will do their
mischief, not in the light of day, and before a multitude, but afar and
apart from all but their associates. You are to be satisfied with less
proof therefore in such a case, than it would be proper and reasonable
for you to require in a case of property--
And if so--why not in murder? ... murders being perpetrated afar and
apart from the world--
Peace I bid you.... Having--
How dare you!
--Having disposed of what has been urged respecting the proof,
gentlemen of the jury, I should now leave the case with you, but for
a remark which fell from a neighbour a few minutes ago. Doctor Mather
will now touch upon what I would gladly pass over--the growth and
origin of the evil wherewith we are afflicted.
Here a man of majestic presence of about fifty years of age arose, and
laying aside his hat, and smoothing away a large quantity of thick
glossy hair, which parting on his forehead, fell in a rich heavy
mass upon his broad shoulders, prayed the jury and his brethren of
the church to bear with him for a few moments; he should try to be
very brief. Brother George--he did not question his motive he said,
but brother George Burroughs would have you believe that witches and
wizards are no longer permitted upon our earth; and that sorcery,
witchcraft, and spells are done with.
Whereto I reply.... First--that there has been hitherto throughout all
ages and among every people, and is now a general, if not a universal,
belief in witchcraft and so forth. Now if such universality of belief
respecting the appearance of departed souls after death, has been, as
it certainly has, a great argument for the immortality of the soul
with such as never heard of the Scriptures of Truth, I would ask why a
like universality of belief respecting witchcraft and sorcery should
be thought of no value, as an argument? Every where the multitude
believe in witchcraft or in that which is of a piece with it. Spirits
and fairies, goblins and wizards, prophets and witches, astrologers
and soothsayers are found mixed up with the traditionary love and the
religious faith of every people on earth, savage and civilized--(so far
as we know, I should say);--with that of people who inhabit the isles
of the sea, afar and apart from each other and from all the rest of the
world. I speak advisedly. They believe in spirits, and they believe in
a future state--in sorcery and immortality. The wild Irish have what
they call their banshees, and the Scotch their second-sight, and the
French their loup-garoux, or men turned into wolves--and so also have
the Irish; and a part of our jocular superstition is the posterity of
that which existed among the terrible Goths. Maria--a word that we hear
from the lips of the idle and profane, before they have got reconciled
to the wholesome severity of our law, was in old Runic a goblin that
seized upon the sleeper and took away all power of motion. Old Nicka
too--he that we are in the habit of alluding to, in a grave way, as
Old Nick, was a spright who used to strangle such as fell into the
water. Bo--was a fierce Gothic captain, the warlike son of Odin, whose
name was made use of in battle to scare a surprised enemy. Every where
indeed, and with every people, earth sea and air have been crowded with
specters, and the overpeopled sky with mighty shadows--I do not know
a----
Here the great black horse which Burroughs had left underneath a tree,
trotted up to the very door, and stood still, with the reigns afloat
upon his neck, and thrust his head in over the heads of the people, who
gave way on every side, as he struck his iron hoofs on the step, and
for a second or two there was a dead quiet over the whole house. The
speaker stopped and appeared astonished, for the eyes of the animal
in the strong light of the torches, were like two balls of fire, and
his loose mane was blowing forward in the draught of the door, so as
actually to sound aloud.
Why do you stop--what are you afraid of, Doctor Mather? Not afraid of
old Pompey are you?
Hadn’t you better tie him up? asked a judge.
No--I have something else to do, but I desire that somebody at the door
will. But nobody would go near the creature.
--History abounds with proof, I say, respecting witchcraft and sorcery,
witches and wizards, magic, spells and wicked power. If we put all
trust in the records of history for one purpose, why not for another?
If a witness is worthy of belief in one thing--why is he not another?
If we find no treachery nor falsehood in a writer; if we meet with
nothing but confirmation of what he says, when we refer to other
writers of the same people and age, why disbelieve him when he speaks
of that which, being new to our experience, we cannot be able to judge
of? Able and pious men should be trusted, whatever they may say, so
long as they are not contradicted by other able and pious men--
We are to believe not only in witches then, but in fairies and
loups-garoux--
Be quiet Sir--
Softly judge.... And we are to believe that he who in the course of a
tale about the ordinary affairs of ordinary life--
Have done Sir.
--Testifies to a miracle, should be credited as much for what he says
of the miracle as for the rest of the--
Be quiet Sir.
--As for the rest of the tale.... You cannot escape me brother--
Will you be quiet Sir?
No.
--The Bible is crowded with proof, continued the Doctor. Sooth-sayers
and sorcerers, interpreters of dreams, false-prophets, and a witch
with power to make the grave and the sea give up their dead; men whose
little rods became live serpents while they strove with Aaron the
High-priest, multitudes who were clothed with a mischievous power ...
all these are spoken of in the Bible.
It has been said here that credulity is a sign of ignorance. It may
be so, my dear friends--but you must know as well as I do, that
incredulity is everywhere found among the ignorant. Able men believe
much, _because_ they are able men. The weak disbelieve much because
they are weak. Who are they that laugh when they hear that our earth is
a globe, and that once in every twenty-four hours, it turns completely
round underneath our feet--
Much whispering here, and a look of surprise on every side of the
speaker, encouraged him to a more emphatic delivery.
Who are they that refuse to believe much that the learned and the
wise, fortified in their wisdom by the beauty of holiness, and
the gravity of age, are steadfastly assured of? The truth is that
extraordinary minds have a courage that ordinary minds have not--for
they dare to believe what may expose them to ridicule. The longer we
live and the more we know, the more assured we are that impossible
things are possible--
To be sure Doctor, said a judge.
--That nothing is impossible therefore.... Now, my friends of the
jury--it appears to me that if witchcraft _had_ been a common thing
with every people, and in all ages, we could not possibly have had
more evidence of it, than we have now. We have the records of History,
sacred as well as profane. We have a great body of laws, made year
after year, among the most enlightened people that ever inhabited
the earth, about conjurations, spells and witchcraft, and this, in
all parts of the globe and especially in the land of our Fathers;
judgment of death, day after day, and year after year, under that
law; confessions without number by people charged with sorcery and
witchcraft, not only in various parts of England, but by our very
fire-sides and at our very doors. Added to all this, we have the
universal faith of which I spoke, and altogether, a body of proof,
which if it be false--would be more wonderful than witchcraft is----
True ... true ... fearfully and wonderfully true, brother.
--But if such things _are_ elsewhere why may they not be here? If they
have been heretofore, why may they not be now, and forever? We do not
know, worms that we are, how the Lord God of Heaven and earth operates
in His pavillion of thick darkness--we do not know whether he will or
will not work in a given way. We only know that he may do whatever he
will ... that for Him there is no such law as the law of nature. And
if so, why may not witches be employed as the wicked are, as great
warriors are, for scourging the nations of our earth, and for the glory
of our Father above.--Let us pray.
Prayer followed, and after the prayer, the multitude sung a psalm
together, and the jury withdrew.
They were not gone long, and when they came back there was but just
light enough to see their faces. Not a breath could be heard ... not a
whisper--and the foreman stood up and was about to speak in the name of
the twelve, when Burroughs, who could bear it no longer, leaped upon
his feet, and turned to the jury with tenfold power, and gasping for
breath, called upon each man by name, as he hoped for mercy hereafter,
to speak for himself.
Brother Burroughs!
Brother Moody--
Be quiet Master Burroughs.
I will not be quiet, Master Judge--
Officer!
I will not be quiet I say! And hereafter you will remember my words,
and if they prevail with you, men of Massachusetts-Bay, ye will be
ready to cry out for joy that I was not brow-beaten by your looks; nor
scared by your threats--
Have done Sir.--Do your duty Master High-Sheriff.
--Begone Sir. Touch me if you dare.--You see this staff.--You know
something of me and of my ways.--Touch me if you dare. What I have
to say shall be said, though I die for it. By our Sovereign Lord and
Master and Mary his Queen, I charge you to hear me! You are shedding
the blood of the innocent! You are driving away the good and the brave
by scores from the land! You are saying to people of no courage, as to
that poor woman there--as I live she is fast asleep--asleep! ... while
that grey-headed man who stoops over her is about to pronounce the
judgment of death upon her--
Wake the prisoner ... what, ho, there! cried the chief judge.
The officer went up to poor Martha and shook her; but she did not
appear to know where she was, and fell asleep again with her little
withered hands crossed in her lap.
You are saying to her and such as her.... Confess and you are safe.
Deny, and you perish--
To the point Mr. Burroughs.... We are tired of this; we have put up
with enough to-day--
I will. I demand of you judges that you call upon every man there in
that box to say, each man for himself, whether it be his opinion that
Martha Cory should suffer death. I _will_ have it so.... I _will_ have
it on record--I will not permit a man of the twelve in such a case to
hide himself under the cloak of the majority--
It cannot be master Burroughs--it cannot be--such a thing was never
heard of ... gentlemen of the jury, look upon the prisoner.
Hear me but a word more! I see death in the very eyes of the jury--I
see that we have no hope. Hear me nevertheless ... hear me for a minute
or two, and I will go away from you forever--
Let us hear him, said another judge.
I proved to you the other day that an accuser had perjured herself in
this court, before your faces, ye mighty and grave men. What was my
reward? You gave judgment of death on the accused--You let the accuser
go free--I see that accuser now. What will be said of your justice at
home, if you permit her to escape? Will the judges of England forget
you? or the majesty of England forgive you?--
The horse at the door began to grow impatient--snorting and striking
with his feet.
--Ye know that the knife was a forgery; and the sheet which has made so
much talk here, why even that was a----
He stopped short, and looking at a female who sat near him, appeared to
lose himself entirely, and forget what he was going to say.
Well Sir----
Excuse me ... I ... I ... excuse me ... although I have no doubt of the
fact, although as I hope to see the face of my Redeemer, I do believe
the story of the sheet and the story of the spindle, to be of a piece
with the story of the knife; a trick and a forgery, yet--yet--
Here he made a sign to the female, as if to encourage her.
--Yet I dare not say _now_, I dare not say _here_, on what my belief is
founded. But hear me ... they talk of teeth and of whole sets of teeth
being discoverable by the prints which appear in their flesh. How does
it happen I pray you that all these marks turn out to be on parts of
the body which might be bitten by the afflicted themselves? And how
does it happen, I pray you, that instead of corresponding teeth, or
sets of teeth being found in the accused, ye have repeatedly found her
as now, without a tooth in her head? Nay ... how does it happen that
Abigail Paris and Bridget Pope, who are indeed sufferers by a strange
malady, babes that are innocent as the dove, I am sure ... God forbid
that I should lay the mischief at their door--
Seven and seven pence--muttered the man, who kept an account of the
oaths.
----How does it happen I say, that of all the accusers they and they
alone have escaped the mark of the teeth? How! ... because they alone
speak the truth; because they are the deceived ... we know not how,
judges, but in a fearful way. They are deceived ... poor children, but
they do not seek to deceive others. Nor do they lie in wait for a----
He was interrupted by a loud furious neigh, so loud and so furious from
the great black stallion at the door, that Martha awoke and started up
with a scream that thrilled the very blood of the judges, and made the
people hurry away from the bar.
Burroughs now saw that he had no hope, and that in a moment the poor
soul before him would bear the sentence of death. He caught up his
iron-shod staff, and breaking through the crowd which recoiled from his
path as if he were something whose touch would be fatal to life, sprang
upon the back of the horse, and gallopped away toward the sea-shore.
No language on earth, no power on earth can describe the scene that
followed his departure, the confusion, the outcry, the terror of the
people who saw the fire fly from his rocky path, and heard leap after
leap of the charger bounding toward the precipice; nor the fright
of the judges; nor the pitiable distress and perplexity of the poor
childish woman, when she was made fully to understand, after the
tumult was over and the dread clamor and fire-flashing had passed
away, and everything was quiet as the grave--nothing to be heard but a
heavy trample afar off and the dull roar of the sea--that she must be
prepared for death.
She could not believe it ... she would not believe it--she did not ...
such was her perfect simplicity, till the chief judge came to her and
assured her with tears in his eyes, over and over again, that it must
be so.
Ah me! said poor Martha, looking out toward the quarter of the sky
where the horseman had so hastily disappeared, and where she had seen
the last of the fire-light struck from his path; Ah me, bending her
head to listen, and holding up her finger as if she could hear him on
his way back. Ah me!--ah me ... and that was all she said in reply to
her judges, and all she said when they drove her up to the place of her
death, decked out in all her tattered finery, as if it were not so much
for the grave, as for a bridal that she was prepared.
Ah me! said poor Martha when they put the rope about her neck....
Ah me!--and she died while she was playing with her little withered
fingers, and blowing the loose grey hair from about her mouth as it
strayed away from her tawdry cap ... saying over the words of a child
in the voice of a child, Ah me--ah me--with her last breath--
God forgive her judges!