1
JUSTICE _arrives. She will not be stayed nor thrown from her scent,
although the morning wears slowly and some fear_ JUSTICE _will be
balked._
On the twenty-seventh day of December, 1672, Judge Lollimour and
Judge Bride, of the Court of Assistants, Boston, entered with pomp
into Salem. They were escorted by the Boston marshal, by constables,
aides, etc., in full regalia. This pretty cavalcade drew rein by the
horse-block of the Black Moon, where ordinarily preliminary hearings
were conducted.
Judge Bride (this was the great Judge Bride) said to Judge Lollimour,
his colleague, ‘Sir, what will we do with this great crowd gathered
hereabout, waiting to hear the findings of Justice?’
‘Sir,’ said Judge Lollimour, ‘the tap-room of the Black Moon could not
accommodate one fifth of this great multitude. Let us move on to the
Meeting-House.’
After them straggled the populace of some five villages—yes, and
learned men, elders, doctors, jurists, etc., out from Boston. The
crowd was black with the gowns of the clergy.
Every seat in the Meeting-House was quickly taken. The aisles were
filled. Body pressed close to body, rendering breathing difficult. In
this way a stale heat was engendered, and a fear, and an expectation.
One said to another it was a fatal day. Some would have left if it had
been allowed them, but the room being filled the Judges ordered the
constables to permit neither egress nor entry. They feared a milling
about and a turmoil that would be a detriment to the dignity of the
Court.
The magistrates were set in great chairs before the pulpit. At their
feet were pallets whereon the sick children should be laid when their
time came to testify. The constables pulled a table (a heavy oak table)
close to the magistrates. Upon this the accused should stand in the
sight of all men—yes, and in the sight of God.
Certain men cried out, ‘Make way! Make way!’ and in came Captain Buzzey
and the prisoner. She looked most wild and shaggy and of a touchingly
small size. Captain Buzzey lifted her to the table set for her, and
then, addressing the Court, showed true warrant for her arrest and
swore that as commanded he had diligently searched the house for
poppets, images, etc.; having found what he found, he now produced
these things in the bundle which he laid at their honours’ feet.
Judge Bride, looking about him at the many black-robed clergy, said,
‘Gentlemen of the ministry, who among you officiating in these parts
is senior?’ He was told Mr. Zelley was senior in these parts, but that
the famous Mr. Increase Mather was present. ‘Sir,’ said Judge Bride,
‘will you, Mr. Zelley, offer up a prayer?’ Mr. Zelley prayed, begging
God to discover evil where there was evil and innocency where there was
innocency. He prayed that the prisoner confess if she might be guilty,
but if she were innocent, God strengthen her not to confess merely to
save her life. To this prayer the magistrates gave fervent amen.
Judge Lollimour thus addressed the prisoner at the bar: ‘You
understand, Doll Bilby, whereof you are now charged, that is, to be
guilty of sundry acts of witchcraft, more specifically the wasting and
afflicting of twin sisters, Labour and Sorrow Thumb. What say you to
it?’
‘I am as innocent as the babe unborn.’
‘You are now in the hands of authority and, God helping, you shall have
justice, and the afflicted shall have justice. May God help us all.’
Then Judge Lollimour called on many witnesses. He called on Mr. Kleaver
the surgeon, and the older doctor from Salem whose name was Bunion. He
called upon the Thumbs and upon Widow Bilby. This latter woman showed
such spite and malice in her testimony that Judge Bride frowned upon
her and reproved her. Thus, instead of hurting the accused, she helped
her, for the Judges felt some pity for the tousled, wild child (she
seemed but a child) perched upon the table in the sight of all men—yes,
and in the sight of God.
Mr. Zelley was called. He was a bony man of fifty years, and his hair
was white. In contrast to the big fine presence of Mr. Mather and
many another clergyman then present, he seemed a poor thing; that is,
uncertain, ill at ease. He spoke in a low voice, saying how good had
been this young woman as a child. How in earliest womanhood she had
shown a most exemplary piety. How she was often at her prayers, and
came to him for religious comfort, etc. As he spoke, he twisted his
hands in his sleeves as a boy might. Then he said in a defiant voice
that the girl had since childhood endured the most cruel abuse from her
foster mother—that is, from this same Widow Bilby, who had but lately
been heard. This last statement had much weight with the Judges, who
thereafter did not permit Widow Bilby to testify, or, if they did,
they took her words with knowing glance. By this dismissal of Hannah
they also dismissed the earlier tales of Doll’s witchcraft. Although
they heard how the green fruit of Hannah’s womb was blasted, how she
had suffered a wretched and unaccountable illness, it was evident they
were not impressed—rather were they bored. To the death of Mr. Bilby
they listened with more attention, questioning a number (especially Mr.
Kleaver and Mr. Zelley) with some pains. When they heard that the dying
man with his last breath denied any witchcraft, they would not permit
Hannah to explain how it may be that an evil spirit enter a corpse and
then cry out.
[Illustration: Two men talking]
At noon, while they ate their bloaters and drank their rum punch at the
Black Moon, the barmaid heard Judge Bride say to Judge Lollimour that
it was easy to see through the whole miserable affair. _In primo_: This
rustic town was so tedious they had to patch up an excitement—he would
begin seeing devils himself if he lived there. _Secundo_: This jealous,
scolding widow was at the bottom of it. _Tertio_: The wench indeed
looked like a goblin, and, no matter how pious a life she might lead,
village gossips would always speak ill of her—especially, as in her own
ungodly way she was a pretty mouse. _Quarto_: They would both of them
be back in Boston within the three-day, the case being dismissed and
the local people reproved for their gullibility. Said Judge Lollimour,
‘Sir, we have not as yet seen these afflicted children.’ Judge Bride
said, ‘Blah,’ draining the last of his rum punch.
2
_From Noon to Sundown rages a famous battle, with Righteousness and
Justice on the one hand and Witchcraft and Evil upon the other._
On the afternoon of the same day, Doll Bilby was set again upon the
table. The crowd within the Meeting-House was even greater than it had
been in the morning. Many had not even gone out for dinner, so ravenous
was their hunger to hear the findings of Justice and to observe the
conduct of a witch.
_Judge Bride_: Once again are we assembled in the eyes of all men and
in the eyes of God to administer justice as well as mortal man (a
puny, weak, and miserable creation) is able. Mr. Mather, of Boston,
sir, we beg your blessing and your prayers.
Then Mr. Mather prayed most decently, and as if in sight of God’s
most awful throne. To this prayer the Judges gave amen and bade the
sheriff go and fetch the bodies of the Thumb twins, who should next be
questioned. Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings wise men may be
instructed, and an innocent child may speak with greater knowledge
than is given to the cloudy heart of maturity. Mrs. Thumb was asked
to tell all she might concerning the health and humour of these twins
since birth. These things she told. She told of the past-nature love
her son Titus bore this woman now accused, and at the moment the
sheriff entered and the cry ‘Make way!’ went up. After him was Deacon
Thumb, and he bore Sorrow Thumb, and after him was Titus. He bore
Labour Thumb. It was explained that the children were taken in fits at
the threshold of the courtroom. They lay in a swoon as though dead,
their faces green with pallor, their eyes closed. The bearers laid them
on the pallets.
_Judge Bride_: Titus Thumb, stand up and answer me. You see this
woman who stands thus before and above you all. Now is she charged
with crimes which, if proven, shall cost her her life, yet a year and
a little more and she was your dear heart and you were about to wed
with her. You have heard your mother say that this Bilby won you by
wicked spells, that once she assumed the shape of an Indian and you
shot her through the heart—yet she did not suffer for it. That again
she perversely set upon you, tempting and staying you beyond the puny
endurance of our sex, and you struck her a blow that would have killed
an ox, yet _she_ rose up unharmed. We have listened to some length of
how violent and beyond the usual wants of nature was your desire for
her. Your flesh fell away, etc. What do you now say? Are these things
true?
_Thumb_: Sir, as God hears me, these things are true.
_Judge Bride_: There has been no enlargement upon fact?
_Thumb_: None.
_Judge Bride_: It does not seem to you that you mistook for
enchantment what another would call lust? Possibly you are a young man
of gross sensual nature, who might strike what he loved?
_Thumb_: God knows I am the least sensual of all men. I have never
sought out women. Ask any here.
At that a girl was possessed and now a demon began manifestly to speak
in her. The demon belched forth most horrid and nefarious blasphemies.
The constable took her out. A dozen cried to the Judges, begging to
vouch for the young man’s purity. All were silenced.
_Judge Bride_: Thumb, I see your eyes avoid to look towards this young
woman. Perhaps your heart regrets that you give testimony most like to
lead her in the halter. Look upon her now. Is she not your enemy? Tell
her she is a witch and that you wish her hanged for it.
_Thumb_ (after a most tedious pause, looked to her feet): You are a
witch.
_Judge Bride_: Better than that, louder and firmer. Come, you shall
look upon her face. You shall not mock this Court.
_Thumb_: Sir, I cannot.
_Judge Bride_: What, are you still bewitched, or is it that you still
love her and will not harm her?
_Thumb_: I love her. (He put his arm across his eyes. He wept.)
_Judge Bride_: Get to your chair again. How can you who love her give
good and valid testimony? Get to your chair again. Your mother, she is
made of sterner stuff. I see the children stir. They are about to be
recovered to consciousness. Sheriff, cover the face and body of the
accused so that they may not see her until the time comes.
Captain Buzzey took off his scarlet cape. It was a good new cape that
had cost him two pounds. Within the month it rotted mysteriously, and
the Assistants bought him another one. With this scarlet cape he now
covered Bilby’s Doll from head to foot.
_Labour_: Oh, for Christ’s dear sake, sister, where are we now? Oh,
for God’s sake....
_Sorrow_: Oh, my back, oh, my bowels!
The children aroused themselves a little, sat up, and gazed about the
court. Now it is noticeable that Judge Lollimour took to himself the
questioning of the children. The reason is he had seven such at home,
while the great Judge Bride had none.
_Judge Lollimour_: Children, do not be afraid, for is there none among
us but wish you well. You are only to speak the truth as your good
mother has taught you—the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
_Sorrow_ (in loud, bold voice): There is one here who does not wish us
well. I can feel her presence.
The Judge gave no heed, although many were amazed that the child had
not seen Doll, yet knew there was one there who did not wish her well.
_Judge Lollimour_: You have been strangely sick, and I see you are not
well. What, think you, caused this sickness?
_Sorrow_: Oh, sir, have you not heard? We are bewitched. She gave us
our own vitals to eat, and she comes at night and torments us.
_Judge Lollimour_: You say ‘she,’ yet half the world are ‘she.’ To
whom do you refer?
_Sorrow_: I can’t say her name, oh-oh-oh....
She gagged and went purple in the face, she clawed at her windpipe.
_Labour_: Oh, don’t you see, don’t you see, the witch has her by the
throat? She won’t let her answer. Oh, sir, she’ll die. (The puny child
struck the air above her sister’s head.) Go away, you wicked witch, go
away!
_Judge Lollimour_: Now that you are restored, I shall name some to
you, and when you reach the name of her whom you think torments you,
you shall make a sign. Abigail Stone, Sarah Black, Obedience Lovejoy,
Alice May, Delilah Broadbent, Doll Bilby....
Then the afflicted did cry out, and fell back weak and dumb.
_Judge Lollimour_: So you accuse Doll Bilby, that she bewitches you,
causing your sickness? What else does she do to you?
_Sorrow_: She will have us sign in the Black Book.
_Judge Lollimour_: Come, you contrive a fancy. I do not believe she
comes with a black book. Tell me how.
_Sorrow_: She comes with devils and imps and hideous animals, and they
torment us, pressing out our lives, sticking pins and knives into us,
and while they torment us she presses close to us, bidding us sign her
book. But we will none of her, and God helps us and will save us.
_Judge Lollimour_: You claim that this woman comes to you by night,
bringing such with her as prick and torment you. How does she come, in
her own proper form?
_Sorrow_: At first she would come as a great tawny cat, and then again
as a pig, or as a mouse, and once I remember she came as a black dog.
And she brings fiends with her, hairy little black men, and these
torment us. Of late I think she comes only in her own proper form.
Sometimes it is hard to tell, for she can at will assume any shape.
And sometimes a hand puts into the bed amongst us and pulls at our
vitals.
_Judge Lollimour_: When this woman came to you and offered you a book
to sign (as you claim), what would she say?
_Sorrow_: She would say, ‘Sign.’
_Judge Lollimour_: And no other word?
_Sorrow_: Sometimes she would say, ‘Sign, or I’ll squeeze your vitals
for you.’
_Judge Lollimour_: But you, being good and Christian girls, would not
sign?
_Labour_: Oh, sir, once a most awful and majestic voice spoke out, and
I do believe it was the voice of God, and He bade us not to sign. Then
the fiend flew away in a clap and did not return for a three-day.
Their mother said, yes, this was true. She herself heard the clap and
it was three days before the affliction again commenced.
_Judge Lollimour_: And if you sign, what does she promise you?
_Sorrow_: Prettiest things to play with—little goats, no larger than
a cat and a cat as small as a kit, and brooms to ride on through the
sky—and her own pretty babe to play with.
_Judge Lollimour_: And when you refuse to sign?
_Sorrow_: Oh, she pinches and torments us, or lets her fiends and
familiars torment us. They but do her bidding and I do not think are
as wicked as she. Once she set my father’s great black bull Ahab upon
us. He tramples us like to break our bones.
The mother interrupted to say, yes, this was true. The bull was a
witch’s familiar beyond good doubt, and they but waited the finding of
the Court before they butchered him.
_Sorrow_: Sometimes the witch shakes us cruelly.
_Thumb_: Sir, it is true. Those small and puny girls were so shaken
two strong men could not hold them in their beds.
_Judge Bride_: What, young Thumb, is this girl, even though proved a
witch, so strong, she can best two strong men—how think you?
_Thumb_: Sir, I think the Devil helps her and he gives her strength.
_Judge Bride_: You who were once her lover—you should know her
strength. Was she then so brawny-strong those times you bundled her?
Titus was confused. He believed the Court to be against him. The
congregation was angry, for bundling is a pleasantry for yokels, and no
more likely to occur in Salem than in Boston, nor in the Thumb house
than in the house of Bride or Lollimour. It was felt the Judge intended
an insult. Some feared the magistrates might dismiss the whole case but
from caprice. But Judge Bride was a godly man, who would not lift his
nose from a scent until Justice herself was satisfied, although those
who knew him best said he often seemed to pause and idly bay the moon.
_Thumb_: I never got such favour from her.
_Judge Bride_: One more thing you shall tell us, although you are not
a likely witness. Is it true, as your mother has said, that you shot
silver bullets up the fire hole, and that upon occasion you think you
struck the accused?
_Thumb_: It is true, sir, but I shot only three silver bullets—these
were buttons from my coat. My sisters cried, ‘There she goes up the
flue.’ I fired where they pointed and they exclaimed that I had struck
her on the wrist. Some here will tell you that there was indeed the
next day a bullet-gouge on her wrist, nor has it yet healed—to this
day. I saw it when you bade me look at her. You may see this mark
yourself. Her apparition came commonly to afflict my sisters in an old
black riding-hood.
Captain Buzzey said he had the very one with him in the bundle at their
honours’ feet. He took it out, and Labour and Sorrow both said, yes, it
was the very one. Captain Buzzey held it up before the magistrates. It
was riddled with bullet holes.
_Captain Buzzey_: Widow Bilby gave me this coat. See, it is burnt with
fire, shot full of holes as a sieve, and still smells of soot from the
Thumb chimney, and gunpowder from Thumb’s musket.
_A boy_ (crying out from the back of the court): I know that coat,
sir, well.
_Judge Bride_: And who may you be?
_The boy_: Jake Tulley, bonded man to Widow Bilby, and I know that
coat for the one our scarecrow has worn these three years, and but
yesterday I saw the coat gone and the scarecrow naked. Mate and I
(that is the other farmhand) often shot at it for practice. Why, it
means nothing that it is full of holes.
_Judge Bride_: And are you and Mate such miserable poor shots you must
press your pieces into the very belly of the scarecrow to be assured
of your aim? Look, how the powder has burned the cloth.
The Judges took the coat up between them and discussed in low voices.
Jake sat down in confusion.
_Judge Bride_: Mr. Kleaver, you have already given generously of your
knowledge. You have told us in what way the maladies arising from
witchcraft differ from those arising from the proper body—in other
words, what are the differences between diseases inflicted by the
Devil for wicked ends, and those by Jehovah for our own good. And
you have told us how you came to recognize the case in hand as one
provoked by art. Will you tell us further?
_Mr. Kleaver_: Invisible hands often clutched the twins by the throat.
I have seen them.
_Judge Bride_: The invisible hands?
_Mr. Kleaver_: No. I have seen the throats. And I have also taken the
needles, pins, and such from their flesh. These children have vomited
strange things—fur, insects, glass, long hanks of hair—blue beads....
(He stooped to the bundle at their honours’ feet.) Sirs, here is the
basket in which the young woman sent poisoned or possessed food to
the afflicted—mark the blue beads on the handle. Three days earlier,
the one of them spewed forth these blue beads I now take from my
pocket—mark, gentlemen—they are identical.
_Mrs. Thumb_: There was never a bead like that before in my house.
She wept. The children screamed out in gibberish at sight of the beads,
and fell back upon their pallets.
_Judge Bride_: Mark the children, Mr. Kleaver, are they now, in your
opinion, possessed?
_Mr. Kleaver_: Not exactly possessed. (He whispered to the
magistrates.) They are conscious of a malignant presence. They know
the witch is in the room.
_The twins_: Oh, oh, oh, God help us, oh, oh, oh!
_Judge Bride_: Sheriff, uncover to us the accused. Now, children,
stand up, if able, and look there at the table above you.
The room was filled with their piercing din. Labour fell in a fit,
foaming, rolling her eyes. She was stretched out stark and dead. Sorrow
flung herself in hideous terror upon the feet of the Judges, crying
out piteously that they save her. Then she fell back stark and dumb.
Judge Lollimour was touched by her plight, her fear, and the appeal she
made to him. He raised her up, felt of her hands and face. They were
dank with a cold sweat which both Judges knew no art could imitate. Her
pulse scarce moved. Her tongue was tied in her throat. She could not
speak. She looked up out of tortured eyes.
_Mr. Mather_: Here, sir, if ever, is demoniacal possession.
_Judge Bride_: Here is witchcraft—now to find the witch.
_Mr. Mather_: It has been proved an hundred times in English courts
that a spell cast by a witch’s eye must return to the witch’s body—if
the witch touch the afflicted.
_Judge Bride_: Sheriff, carry the body of this Labour Thumb to the
prisoner. She shall touch her. We shall see. Observe. The child is
utterly lifeless now.
_Captain Buzzey_: She has no pulse, sir.
_Mrs. Thumb_: Sir, sir, you have let her slay my child before my eyes.
Oh, God, oh, God!...
_Judge Bride_: No one can say that this child knows who touches her.
Sheriff, take her, alive or dead, to the prisoner.
Captain Buzzey took her up. The witch readily assented. She reached
down and touched the child. The colour returned to the child’s face.
Captain Buzzey felt her pulse leap in her wrist. He felt her heart
stir under her hand. The child turned in his arms, smiling prettily,
as though in sleep. With a smile she woke. She glanced to the Judges,
noted her sister (still in semi-trance). She smiled at her mother. Her
eyes went up, and there on the table beside and above her was the awful
vision of Bilby’s Doll. With a wail of terror no art could simulate,
she clung to Captain Buzzey. At that moment all in the courtroom
realized how hideous had been her weeks of anguish. No one could so
fear a person who had never done her harm.
_Judge Bride_: Lay the child upon her pallet—and you, Sorrow, go you
now and lie upon your pallet.
_Sorrow_ (her tongue still tied): Gar, gar, gah, gah, gah.
_Judge Bride_: Labour and Sorrow, as you fell into these fits, tell
me what occurred. Did a fiend or familiar come to torment you? Did
the accused send her apparition to you, there before your very
eyes—leaving her body, as it were, vacant upon the table? Tell us.
Now was Labour also taken with dumbness. All saw how the lower lips
of the afflicted were sucked in, and the teeth were clamped down upon
them. Mr. Kleaver essayed to break the lock on their teeth. He could
not.
_Widow Bilby_: Look to the witch, look, look!
It was seen the witch bit her lip—thus locking the jaws of the
children. Captain Buzzey struck her slightly, and bade her loose her
lip. Then the children were released. They said it was her own devil
came to them.
_Judge Bride_: Doll Bilby, I have asked several the meaning of the
manifestation of evil, so recent among us. Mr. Kleaver and Mr. Mather
have both explained it to the satisfaction of many—is it to your
satisfaction?
_Doll Bilby_: I am an ignorant woman. I cannot explain.
_Judge Bride_: Now you are to talk freely, deny the truth of the
statements which you have heard made, explain and elucidate for us—or,
if you wish, you may confess.
She was silent.
_Judge Bride_: At least you can concur with the judgement of those
wiser than yourself. At least say this, Was it or was it not a devil
who tied the children’s tongues for them?
_Doll Bilby_: That I do know—it was not.
_Judge Bride_: How do you know? No one else can claim to be so wise.
_Doll Bilby_: If it were a demon, I would have seen him.
_Judge Bride_: You have, then, so nice a sight you can see devils?
_Mr. Zelley_: May I speak?
_Judge Bride_: Speak.
_Mr. Zelley_: If this young woman could command a devil to serve her,
would he then be so unmindful of her safety as to come into this court
and work tricks so likely to hurt her cause?
_Mr. Mather_: Cannot God as well as this wretched girl or Satan
command devils? Has it not been proved often and often that it
sometimes pleases Him to suffer them to do such things in this
world as shall stop the mouths of gainsayers and exhort a Christian
confession from those who will believe only the most obvious of His
truths?
_Judge Bride_: Bilby, give us your thoughts on the matter. These
Divines have spoken wisely.
_Doll Bilby_: I think it was perhaps an angel—come to do me a mischief.
_Judge Bride_: Do angels come to do mischief to good and baptized
women?
The defendant saw she was in difficulty. She twisted her hands in the
folds of her gown. Then were the children afflicted.
_Judge Bride_: Bilby, if these are indeed your tricks, keep them for
more seemly time. Constable, seize her hands. And if, as you suggest,
these manifestations are the actions of angels, I pray God to spare us
His angels until the Court is adjourned.
A woman was taken in a fit. She fell down laughing and sobbing, and was
passed out through a window.
_Judge Bride_: Do you think those who are afflicted suffer voluntarily
or involuntarily?
_Doll Bilby_: I cannot tell.
_Judge Bride_: That is strange; every one may judge for himself.
_Doll Bilby_: I must be silent.
_Judge Bride_: You have heard this morning two learned medici explain
in what way witchcraft is like to resemble natural ailment, and in
what ways it differs. Keep this counsel in your mind, and tell me what
you would say of the illness of these children.
_Doll Bilby_: It would seem they suffer from witchcraft.
_Judge Bride_: So it would seem to many here. And where there is a
witchcraft there must be a witch.
_Doll Bilby_: Yes.
_Judge Bride_: Where is that witch?
_Doll Bilby_: God knows I do not know. God knows I never hurt a child.
I know of no witch that would afflict these children.
Captain Buzzey stood up. He said that when he and his men came to
arrest this woman, now standing trial for witchcraft, he and his men
heard her deny clearly the afflicting of the Thumb twins, and yet she
had said—most meaningly—‘’Tis the work of _another witch_.’
_Judge Bride_: You shall explain this for us, Bilby.
_Doll Bilby_: How shall I explain?
_Judge Bride_: Confess now, as you did then, that you are a witch.
She was silent.
_Judge Bride_: Confess now, and your life shall be spared.
She was silent.
_Judge Bride_: Confess now and turn against these other witches—for it
is possible that many are about—and I swear to you your life will be
spared.
She was silent.
_Judge Lollimour_: Will the prisoner at the bar recite the Lord’s
Prayer?
Doll began readily enough. As she spoke the Holy Words, Mr. Zelley
covered his face in his hands, and made them with his lips as though
he would help her. She went on without chance or mishap till she came
to the last sentence, which begins, ‘Lead us not into temptation.’ She
got no further. Mr. Zelley clenched his hands until his knuckles went
white. He turned up his eyes to God. Then quickly she began and said,
to the horror and consternation of all, ‘Ever for, glory the and, power
the, kingdom the, is thine for, evil from us deliver, but temptation
into not us lead—Amen.’ She did not know what she had done. She looked
about with assurance. There was an incessant and horrid silence in the
court. The Judges looked to each other. Clergyman looked to clergyman,
then turned eyes to God. So was she utterly undone, but the Court was
not yet satisfied.
_Judge Bride_: You have responded to my colleague’s request to the
satisfaction of all, but there are some small matters yet to clear.
Be of good heart, soon we will let you go. I see you are pale and
distrait. Constable, see to it she does not fall from the table. What
did you mean when you said the bewitchment of the Thumb twins was ‘the
work of another witch’?
_Doll Bilby_: Sir, how can I explain?
_Judge Bride_: There is nothing you cannot either confess to, or
explain.
_Doll Bilby_: Sir, I am confused and amazed.
_Judge Bride_: Answer but a few minutes with frankness, and you shall
go to your own cell—we are not your enemies—open your heart to us.
She was mute.
_Judge Bride_: Be stubborn, and you shall stand there all night—yes,
and the next day. Come, have you ever seen a devil?
She nodded her head.
_Judge Bride_: Ah, then you have seen a devil. Do not feel ashamed of
that. Did not Christ Himself see Satan? Was not Luther often tormented
by his presence? Some of the best of men have been the most foully
pursued. Feel no shame, Doll Bilby. Speak out freely. When was it
first?
_Doll Bilby_: I was a child in Brittany; my mother took me to see him
in a great wood.
_Judge Bride_: An instructive and remarkable experience—and have you
seen him since?
_Doll Bilby_: Last spring I saw him—he came to me again.
_Judge Bride_: In proper human form?
_Doll Bilby_: He came to me by night. Yes, he came in form of proper
man. He wore seaman’s clothes and with him was an imp—a black-faced
imp with a long ringed tail. He wore this imp upon his bosom.
There was a commotion at the back of the hall.
_Judge Bride_: When did he come last spring to you?
_Doll Bilby_: The last night in May—the night the Thumbs’ barn burned.
Oh, sir, I am sick, let me go to my cell.
Captain Buzzey held her up.
_A high, wild voice from the midst of the confusion_: I will speak,
sirs, you shall hear me.
_Judge Bride_: Who cries out?
_Voice_: I am Jonet Greene, the tinker’s wife. There are things I
know....
_Judge Bride_: Stand back, all, from the woman. Dame Greene, deliver
yourself of these things.
The crowd drew back. Goody Greene, an old woman and of great dignity,
was revealed to the Judges. Mr. Kleaver whispered to the Judges that
she was an evil woman.
_Goody Greene_: This girl never saw a devil. She saw my own son
Shadrach. He was wanted for piracy—Heaven help me, I hid him by day,
but he prowled by night. He had a monkey, he wore seaman’s clothes. He
saw in my house the girl and lusted after her. I speak....
_A man from back_: Her husband says she lies—she never had no son.
_Goody Greene_: Believe me, for Christ’s dear sake, believe me. I had
a son and I hid him ... but they found him just the same ... God found
out his sin. They hanged him; he was called the Bloody Shad.
_The man_: The woman’s husband, sir, says she never had no son. Time
has broken her memory.
_Goody Greene_: Husband, you are afraid. You coward, who will not
confess to the son of your own loins, lest you come to shame—now is
Doll indeed undone....
_Judge Lollimour_: The woman is lunatic. See how she rolls her eyes.
_Judge Bride_: Could you have had a son of which your husband knew
nothing—why did you never speak of him to your neighbours? How can we
believe your fables? You are lunatic.
_Goody Greene_: God help me! God help me.... May God help Doll!
_Judge Bride_: Constable, throw out this ancient—let her learn to be
a sager hag—and her husband after her.
A confusion and clamour of tongues rose from all parts of the
courtroom. Some wished to say what they knew of the Greenes; others
had stories to tell of lunacy, devils, etc. And there was laughing and
crying among women, and children wailed and would be taken home. Judge
Bride stood up in a noble wrath.
_Judge Bride_: Clear the court! Clear the court! What, shall Justice
find her house in Bedlam? Constables, pick up and carry out—if they
are too weak to walk—the Thumb twins, and you, madame, who are their
mother, go with them. Every one shall now be turned out into the snow
except those who are the witnesses and proper officers of the law, and
the six that I shall name. Mr. Increase Mather, Mr. Seth Dinsmore,
Dr. Zerubbabel Endicott, Mr. Zacharias Zelley, Mr. John Wilson, and
you, sir, also, Colonel Place Peabody. Gentlemen, the case shall be
continued _in camera_. I beg of you few, however, to stay to the end.
3
_From Sundown to black Night the battle continues. The Witch is thrown
to confusion. Justitia triumphans. Deus regnat._
Now was the courtroom, empty and vast, silent as the grave. Only twenty
remained in the room where a minute before had been many hundreds.
The day had worn to sunset and the room was dark. Flares were lighted
and candles were set where there was need. But the light of flare and
candle made the far reaches of the room and the dark corners behind the
scaffold even blacker. Such humanity as was present were huddled about
the platform and the great chairs of the Judges. By candlelight Judge
Bride glanced over the notes that he had taken, and by candlelight
Titus Thumb looked to the witch upon the table. She stood there ghastly
pale and like to swoon. Her eyes were round and struck terror to all.
She did not look again to Titus, only to Judge Bride, whom she in her
simplicity thought to be her friend.
Judge Bride bade the sheriff fetch a chair—a good chair with a back to
it, for he said he saw that the accused was tired past human strength.
Captain Buzzey got a chair. It was a great chair similar to those
in which the Judges sat. Judge Bride had it placed on the platform
between himself and Judge Lollimour. The three sat thus for a moment in
silence, a judge, and next a witch, and then a judge. So they sat in
great chairs and upon crimson damask cushions. The witch’s feet could
not reach the floor. Judge Bride gave her wine to drink from the silver
goblet set out for his own use. She drank the wine and was grateful to
him.
Little by little—tenderly—he questioned her. And little by little she
told him all. Of the Thumb twins he asked no word, he asked her only
of her own self, and of that demon who had but so recently gone from
her. She told in so low a voice those but a few yards away could not
hear, and Mr. Mather several times cried out, ‘Louder—an it please the
wench.’ She told of her father and mother in Brittany, and the night
that Mr. Bilby died. She told of the long winter, and the expectations
of the spring and the fulfilment of these expectations—for the
messenger had come, a most vigorous and comely fiend. Sometimes she
reddened and turned away as might a modest Christian woman. Sometimes
she sighed, and once or twice she smiled a small and secret smile. And
three times she said she loved and did not fear the demon, and that he
had been kind and pitiful to her.
_Judge Bride_: You say this devil was your lover and that he conducted
himself as has many a shameless mortal man to many a woman, for
he loved you, and when he had stayed himself of you he went away,
whistling, we may presume, and shrugging his shoulders—ah, gentlemen,
how shocking is the conduct of the male, be he demon or tomcat! And
now, Doll Bilby, we are almost to the end. Do not fear to weary us
with the length and detail of your history. Come, tell us more. The
ears of Justice must ever be long and patient ears.
She told more. There was nothing left untold, and where she would have
turned aside, Judge Bride encouraged and helped her. Mr. Zelley moaned
and cried out, and his head was in his hands. Titus went ghostly white
and, trembling, staggered from the room.
_Judge Bride_: But did not your conscience hurt? Did you not know that
you lived with this strange lover of yours in sin?
_Doll Bilby_: I begged him to marry me. So he did.
_Judge Bride_: A most virtuous and homely fiend. And did you find
clerk or magistrate to register your vows?
_Doll Bilby_: No, we married ourselves.
_Judge Bride_: Ah, the Governor of Connecticut but recently gave you
example.
And he pointed out to Judge Lollimour with much leisure how evil is bad
example in high places. He questioned Doll further. She told him all
there was to tell about the marriage, and it humiliated her to tell
that she had accepted this fiend before marriage.
_Judge Bride_: Come, come, is it then so sorry a sin for two young
people to be too hot and previous in their love? Surely honest
marriage may be considered salve to such misconduct.
He glanced through his notes. There was not a sound in the room, not
the scamper of a mouse, not the taking of breath, no sound except the
fiery rustle of the flares and the crackle of the paper.
_Judge Bride_: Doll Bilby, I notice that the children spoke often of a
pretty babe—which they called yours. Now to what do they refer?
_Doll Bilby_: Sir, I cannot be sure.
_Judge Bride_: You may guess, perhaps?
_Doll Bilby_: Oh, sir, sir....
Her eyes sought Mr. Zelley, but his face was in his hands.
_Judge Bride_: Speak freely.
_Doll Bilby_: I think it was to my own babe they referred.
_Judge Bride_: And where now is this child?
_Doll Bilby_: It is not yet born.
_Judge Bride_: And to whom the honour of its paternity?
_Doll Bilby_: Who else would it be but the fiend who came to comfort
me?
_Judge Bride_: Do not hang your head, young Bilby, for to conceive is
natural to woman. Rather should you redden and look down if after such
expenditure of infernal ardour you had proved sterile. Conception is
the glory of woman.
He stood up and dismissed the hearing. Then Captain Buzzey in a great
sweat of fear took the witch back to her cell, and all others went
home. That night the Boston Judges lay at the Black Moon. The barmaid
heard Judge Lollimour say to Judge Bride, as these two sat by the
hearth and drank their sack-posset: ‘Sir, this hearing is done as
quickly as ever you prophesied. We will be back to Boston on the third
day. I warrant the finding is more than any expected. There is enough
against the wench to hang her three times over—but that is yet for the
magistrates of the Superior Court to decide. We, at least, shall hold
her without bail or bond.’ Then he said in wonder, ‘To think that God
has vouchsafed to our eyes the sight of a woman who has embraced a
demon....’ The Judges whispered. The barmaid would not repeat what they
said.
These learned men called for ink-horn, sand, and pens. By ten o’clock
they had written thus:
Doll Bilby of Cowan Corners, (Essex County,) being this day brought
before us upon suspicion of witchcraft and upon the specific charge of
afflicting Labour and Sorrow Thumb, twin daughters of Deacon Ephraim
Thumb, we heard the aforesaid, and seeing what we did see, together
with hearing charges of the persons then present, we committed this
same Doll Bilby (she denying the matter of fact, yet confessing
herself a witch, also confessing having had carnal knowledge of a
fiend, also to being at this time pregnant by him, also to being
married to him by the ceremony of Max Pax Fax) unto their majesties’
jail at Salem, as per mittimus then given out in order to further
examination.
ADAM BRIDE }
RALPH LOLLIMOUR } Magistrates
By eleven they slept upon their beds.
4
_Doll having cooked her goose, now must sit to eat it. And one who
later proves a warlock comes to sit by her side._
Next day Doll rose early, thinking she would be called again before
the magistrates. Judge Bride had talked kindly to her and at the end
nothing had been said about the Thumb twins. She had not guessed his
mind to be made up against her.
She rose early, an hour before dawn, and by a rushlight prepared
herself for court. The jailor, John Ackes, could watch her through
a chink in the masonry. He saw her put on hat and cloak and set out
wooden pattens. He ran in fear to the Black Moon where Mr. Zelley
that night lay, and begged him—if he dared—to come a-running, for
he believed the witch was about to fly though the roof. She was all
dressed and set to go.
Mr. Zelley went to the dungeon and found her waiting to be taken before
the magistrates. He sat upon her straw bed by her side, and he took her
hands. He said, ‘Poor child, lay by your hat and riding-gear, for ’tis
all done.’
Done? She had thought they were but started. The matter of the Thumb
twins was not yet proven—Judge Bride himself had confessed as much.
Mr. Zelley said that now there was another warrant for her and another
_mittimus_. But Mr. Zelley must have heard Judge Bride say there was no
offence in having seen a devil—had not even Christ talked with Lucifer?
And obviously the magistrates had approved her marriage and had even
forgiven her that she had been too pliant to her lover’s desires. How,
therefore, could the Court be done with her—unless they were about to
set her free?
‘You are to be held for a jury—a jury, my poor Doll, of your own angry
neighbours, and for the February sessions of the Superior Court of
Judicature.’ He explained that Judges Bride and Lollimour could only
examine her and hold her over to a higher court. It is true they could
have dismissed her as innocent—if it had pleased them; but they could
not give sentence of death.... He wished her to think of death and it
might be to prepare her mind and more especially her soul (if she had a
soul) against this likely contingence.
‘Death?’ she said. ‘How can I die? God, God, oh, God! I do not want
to die.’ At the first moment she was afraid of death like any other
wicked woman. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the masonry
of her cell, remaining a long, long time silent, but her lips moved.
Mr. Zelley sat beside her. His head was in his hands. When next she
spoke she had conquered fear of death. She spoke bravely in a clear,
strong voice. Then she told Mr. Zelley more concerning the fiend whom
Hell had sent to love her. She said that he had promised her that,
when she should come to die, he would stand at her bed’s head. After
death he would be with her and she with him forever and ever. She said
boldly that she did not fear to die. But she flung herself to her knees
and laid her tousled head in Mr. Zelley’s lap and then confessed that
she had a most hideous horror of gallows and halter. As he could he
comforted her. Tears streamed from his eyes, though hers were always
dry. He knelt and seemed to pray to God.
John Ackes at his chink saw him pray and heard his prayer. He said it
was an unseemly prayer—not like those one hears in church—not like the
majestic and awful utterances of Mr. Increase Mather. Zelley talked
to God as you might talk to a friend. So many thought that it was not
to the true God that he prayed, but to some demon whom he privately
worshipped. When his own day came to hang, this thing was remembered
against him.
The witch-woman crouched upon her straw bed the while he prayed. She
had put her hat on her head again and was wrapped in her scarlet
riding-coat. She stared out of round cat’s eyes at the man who prayed
for her.
5
_Abortive attempts to save a_ SOUL _and more infernal manifestations of
the Demon Lover_.
Now was her physical body in sore plight, for she was bound in irons
heavier than a strong man might bear. The jailors feared her, and,
although an eye was forever at the chink, they did as little for her
as might be. The Court permitted only these to go to her: her jailors;
the two ministers of God, labouring in Salem, and Mr. Increase Mather
whose mind was at that time big with a demonology. He wished to study
and examine her. It was three weeks before Mr. Zelley got a permit from
Boston to visit her. He guessed by the cold, tardy manner in which his
request was answered that he himself had fallen into ill-repute. This
was true. His people thought him a warlock and feared and hated him.
When twenty years later, in the days of the great witch-hunting and
hanging in Salem, Mr. Zelley himself came to be tried, John Ackes was
commanded to tell the Court (if he could remember) of what it was the
witch and the warlock had talked through those long hours they had sat
side by side upon the witch’s straw bed. He testified (swearing to his
truth upon the Bible) that they talked but little. Zelley’s head was
forever in his hands. He did not see the witch-woman’s face—nor her
eyes. He did not see how constantly she gaped at empty corners; how she
smiled and nodded into space; how sometimes she would close her eyes
and raise her mouth for the empty air to kiss. All this she did behind
Mr. Zelley’s back. They asked John Ackes if Mr. Zelley made no attempt
to save the woman’s soul. No, he only sat. Sometimes he talked a little
to Doll and sometimes he talked to one whom he designated as ‘god.’ But
he did not really pray at all—not as Mr. Mather prayed—him you could
hear through stone walls and up and down the street. The crowd would
gather outside the jail when Mr. Mather prayed. He was a most fearful
and righteous suppliant before the Throne of God. After his prayers
the wonder was no lightning came to destroy the young witch where she
sat—grimacing and leering at spectres. When one considered Mr. Mather,
one could not say that Zelley prayed at all.
However, it was true that Zelley would sometimes seem to beg Doll Bilby
to turn to God before it was too late. She would always explain to him
that she wanted no other God than Lucifer and no Heaven, for where her
parents were and her foster father and her dear husband—there with them
was her Paradise, not in Heaven with the cold angels singing psalms
forever to an angry and awful God; not in Heaven where doubtless
Hannah Bilby would be found and all her cruel neighbours—no, no, a
thousand times no. Hell was her true home—her Paradise.
Sometimes he would read to her from a stout big book, and John Ackes
swore he thought it was a Bible, although it was possible that the book
was a book of magic—perhaps this was even probable. Still the stories
he read to her from this book sounded to him like Bible stories. What
would he read to her? He read to her of Mary of Magdala, how she laid
her head upon our Saviour’s feet and wiped them with her hair. He read
to her the holy promises of John. It was evident, said John Ackes, that
Zelley was not for a long time conscious of the fiend which lurked
forever in the witch’s cell.
Towards the end no one but Mr. Zelley dared go to her dungeon. They
were all afraid. It was remembered and marked against him that, where
other and more godly men felt fear, he felt no fear. At last even Mr.
Zelley knew that he and the witch were never alone. There was another
and more awful presence about.
Now he would look up quickly from his reading and catch her eyes as
they sought those of some one or something close behind his own
shoulder. When their eyes met, she would smile so softly and happily
he knew that the invisible presence must be that of the one she loved.
Mr. Zelley confessed that this consciousness of a third and unseen
party in the cell sadly upset and confused him. He sweated, he could
not read. One afternoon she gave him such close attention he decided
that the fiend had left, so he closed his book and asked her abruptly
if her demon lover had come back again. She was surprised that he asked
this question. ‘Of course he is back,’ she said. ‘Now he will not leave
me until the end.’ It was not he, she said, whom the Thumb twins saw
at the trial, and Doll again wickedly said that perhaps that creature
had been an angel. ‘My fiend never came near me as I stood all day on
trial. Now he has sworn to stay with me. If I go to Gallows Hill, he
will go with me. If I die here first, he will hold my hands.’
Zelley asked her if she could really see this demon. For instance,
was he at that very moment in the room? Oh, yes. He sat yonder by the
cupboard. His head, she said, rested upon his bosom. ‘Last night I had
a fearful fit of terror. I thought I could not face the gallows. He
held me in his arms and sang to me until sunrise. Now he sleeps.’
‘Is he now in seaman’s clothes and has he the likeness of proper man?’
(Mr. Zelley whispered. He feared to wake the demon.)
‘No. He has returned in shape of true fiend. For he is horned, naked,
scaly, black. His feet are cloven. He has vast leathery bat-pinions.
His tail is long and spiked.’
‘How, then, can you know that this is your own fiend and not another
one?’
‘By his eyes and by his loving voice. These things have not changed.’
‘How is it he returned to you? In what manner did he make himself
manifest?’
‘You recall that day after the trial when you came to me and let me
know beyond a doubt that I must die? All the next day I felt him in
the cell with me. Then little by little he took visible form. At first
he was a vapour that seemed to rise between the flags of the dungeon
floor, and then I could see the shadow of his great and most awful
form—a transparent shadow through which one could look, even as one
looks through smoke. But daily he gained more and more in body and he
now is as hard and sturdy as mortal man. At first seeing horns, tail,
and so fearsome a scaly black body, I cried out in my disappointment
and despair. I, in my simplicity, had imagined he would always be to
me as he had been—shaped, dressed, and coloured like comely, mortal
man. He seemed monstrous to me—more likely to inspire fear than love.
At last I could see his eyes and they were unchanged. And his voice
(for, having gained complete actuality, he could speak) was the same.
So I knew him as my own husband, and now I love him more in his present
infernal majesty than I did in seaman’s form. This shape is fairer to
me.’ (Thus twenty years later Mr. Zelley testified in court as to his
conversation with Doll Bilby.)
On being pressed, Mr. Zelley confessed still further. He said he
asked her why it was that no one—not even the jailors—dared go to her
cell. Did they fear the spectral presence? She was amazed that he had
heard no gossip. Surely the village must by now be buzzing with the
tricks her demon had performed. Had he not heard what had befallen her
peeping jailors? They used (to her unutterable torment and vexation) to
watch her through a chink in the masonry. But the demon punished them
by blowing into their eyes. This had given them the pink-eye. Surely
he must have noticed that her jailors suffered from pink-eye? Now
that she mentioned it he said he believed he had noticed it. And she
was to tell him further. Why did the great Mr. Mather come no more?
She clapped her hands, laughing and purring. Her demon had hated Mr.
Mather so bitterly, and had so resented his long, loud prayers, that
he had several times been on the point of strangling him. In his utter
foolishness the man had dared to read the story of Tobit to her—how
Sara was beloved of the fiend Asmodeus and how this fiend strangled
her many husbands upon their marriage beds, but how at the last this
fine fiend Asmodeus had been driven to farthest Egypt by the stench
of a burning fish’s liver. This story the wicked witch claimed to be
utterly false—it made no jot of difference to her that it was found in
Holy Writ. She said it was a black lie that did much to minimize that
dignity of Prince Asmodeus—who was a close friend to her own lover. She
put up her hand and whispered to Mr. Zelley that, although her fiend
had never told her his own true name, she had reason to suspect that
he himself was none other than this same Asmodeus, for he was touchy
beyond all reason for the dignity of the Prince and he had told her at
some length how dull, tedious, and complaining a woman Sara had been,
and how gladly her lover had surrendered her in the end to the young
Jew. The burning fish’s liver had never driven him forth—he went as
it pleased himself. The stench had almost expelled the bride from her
bridal chamber, but it had had no effect upon the stalwart demon Prince.
Mr. Mather had insisted on reading this story thrice over to her, and
on the last reading he had also endeavoured to burn the large liver
of a cod-fish. Then her husband rushed at the fire. His tail stood up
rigid in rage; he shook his horns like an angry bull; he rustled his
vast pinions, and, as he snuffed out the fire that made the stench with
his two horny hands, Mr. Mather looked up and of a sudden saw him there
and was close to dying of terror. Doll begged the fiend again to assume
invisibility and not to strangle the distinguished Divine. So Mr.
Mather went away and never came again. But surely, surely Mr. Zelley
had heard this thing spoken of? And how her demon had served the two
Salem clergymen—the tricks he had put on them—surely these things were
common gossip? No, of these things he had heard never a word. No one
gossiped with him—now.
It was then at that moment he first came to know he was under
suspicion. Doll knew this too. She told him how she had never heard
that the Thumb twins were bewitched until the very day Captain Buzzey
rode up and accused her of their bewitchment. She said she pitied Mr.
Zelley and he said his life grew strange. Every one in all the world
was far removed, and even God had turned His face away from him. He
said (foolishly) that all his life he had felt that if he believed in
witches, demons, etc., he could not believe in God; for that God Whom
he worshipped would not tolerate such evil things. Yet now had he seen
the proof that such things were true—and, if true, where, then, was
that great and good God whom he had long worshipped? ‘My Doll,’ he
said, ‘you have taken away my reason and my God—now I have nothing. I
have not even one man I may call “friend.”’
She comforted him, not by words, but by putting her small hands (now
thin as a bird’s claws) upon his bent head. She kissed his forehead.
He got up and went away. He did not stay as he should have stayed with
his flock in Cowan Corners. He slept at the Black Moon, for such was
the bewitchment that Doll had set upon him he must see her again and
that early upon the next day.
6
_The Labours of a Witch and the Prayers of the Godly._
The year was nine days old and no more. Then was Doll Bilby taken in
labour and brought prematurely to bed.
The Salem midwife—ancient Nan Hackett—would have none of her, and it
seemed that, whatever it was she must bear, she should bear alone.
Nor did she ask for mortal aid. She was content with that phantom
which stood night and day (as many saw) at her bed’s head. Mr. Zelley
remembered that Goody Goochey, when first she came to Cowan Corners,
had served the beginning as well as the end of life—that is, she had
been a midwife as well as a layer-out of the dead. He went to the woman
and begged her, in pity’s name and partly commanded her in the name of
the General Court, to get herself to Salem jail and there give such
service as might be.
She was afraid. She did not wish to be midwife to a witch and the first
to welcome a black imp into the world. She drank three piggins of ale
and took a leather bottle of brandy with her. She set upon her thumbs
and fingers those iron rings with which she was accustomed to guard
herself against the ghosts of the dead. She thought, after all, is not
a live imp of greater danger to a good Christian’s soul than the body
of a dead church elder? Mr. Zelley went with her to the jail.
The witch at the moment was not in pain. She lay with eyes black as the
pits of Hell. Her white mouth was open. She roused herself a little and
made Mr. Zelley a brief speech in which she said that she had, as he
knew, sought God and spiritual peace, and now, let him look into her
face and say that she had failed to find either. It was true, said Mr.
Zelley. Her face was fulfilled of heavenly peace. He left her without a
word.
Outside he found a conclave of idle men and women who laughed and
joked coarsely. One big ruddy wench (who had already borne, to the
embarrassment of the community, three fatherless children) was crying
out loudly that God knew it was enough for woman to give birth to
human child, which is round and sleek as a melon. God help the witch
now in labour with an imp, for it would come into the world with spiked
tail and horns. Such a thing would be the death of any mortal woman.
All were afraid. Some believed a clap of thunder would come down from
Heaven and destroy the woman. Others that a fiend would rise up from
Hell to succour her. Some said that the witches and warlocks for an
hundred miles had gathered together and now, mounting broomsticks, were
about to charge down upon Salem. One said, ‘Have you not heard? Judge
Bride has suffered an apoplexy. Judge Lollimour is at death’s door.’
This was not so.
Another said Captain Tom Buzzey’s hands (those hands that had held the
witch) had withered. They had shrivelled to the size of a child’s. This
was not so.
All said the witch is in labour. She’s with child by the Devil. God
will burn her soul in Hell. This was so.
The day wore on. The sun, as sometimes may be in the midst of winter,
was so warm the snow melted and water dripped from the eaves of the
jail. It was tender as a day in spring. Planks and rugs were laid in
the slush, for certain clergymen came to pray and must have dry land to
kneel upon. They prayed that God recollect the number of good, pious
Christian people there were at Salem and not destroy all, for they
feared His wrath might blast the whole village. God made no sign, but
the water dripped from the eaves and a sweet spring fragrance rose from
the melting snow.
The multitude gaped and feared. Sometimes they smelt sulphur,
saltpeter, brimstone, and the stench as of a sloughing serpent. They
heard the crying of a phantom voice and the swishing of a thousand
brooms. So they waited through the day expecting every moment to see
crabbed Goody Goochey hobble out with a black imp upon a blanket to
show them.
There was no sound from the cell. Not one cry nor moan from the witch,
not one word from Goochey. The jailors would open the door. It stuck.
Their keys would not fit it. They could not open the door, and believed
devils were holding it fast. They dared not peek in the chink because
of their pink-eye.
By sundown most went home.
7
_Mr. Zelley opens a Dungeon Door, and what came of it._
The next day dawned cold and grey over an icy sea, and the gulls and
terns came in from the harbour crying and lamenting. There was now no
tenderness in the air, and the water that had but yesterday melted
under the rays of a genial sun froze to glassy ice. A wind sharp as
needles came in off the sea and few if any watched the night out on
their knees beside the dungeon walls. As soon as it was possible to
see six feet ahead, the multitude again began to assemble, but this
time they came without laughter or conversation. They were shrouded
in hoods, shawls, etc., for warmth, and seemed a spectral band. Now
and then one or another of them would raise a pious voice in prayer,
lamentation, or thanksgiving, but for the most part they stood bowed
and mute. All night there had been no sound from the witch’s cell—never
a sound. Who was there so bold as to enter in to her and bring back a
report, for John Ackes’s hand shook so he could not manage the key?
Some said Mr. Zelley would go—he had no normal, wholesome fear of
witches or demons. Others said, ‘Where does he lie to-night?’ Others,
‘Go, run and fetch him’; and a boy (it was Widow Hannah’s bonded boy
Jake Tulley) said the man lay at the Black Moon and that he would run
and fetch him. This he did.
Mr. Zelley came in a steeple hat and a greatcoat. He spoke to no one.
No one spoke to him. He entered the jail and took the cell key from
Ackes, and, after some shaking and effort, he turned the lock and
pushed hard on the door, which swung in so suddenly he almost fell on
his knees beside that straw bed where he had sat so many wicked hours
with the witch-girl. A hundred had crowded down the passage and into
the doorway after Mr. Zelley. All stopped at the threshold of the cell.
They stood agape, some filled with curiosity, some with fear, others
with pious ejaculations and elevated thoughts.
Goody Goochey (who indeed proved to be no woman, but a man) lay in a
drunken fit in a corner. His face was purple and his throat twisted and
bruised as though he had been half strangled—which he always averred to
his dying day was the truth, for he had seen the scaly black demon come
at him with great hands outstretched to his throat, and that was the
last he could really remember until certain ones tumbled him out into
the snow. He was sure, however, that, as he lay thus almost unconscious
in a corner, a great concourse of spectrals and infernals had filled
the cell. They had danced, sung, and made much of the witch, praising
her, encouraging her, etc. Because the man was known to be an impostor
(he had for many years made all think him a woman) and because of his
swinish, drunken ways, many did not believe what he said.
All could see that Bilby’s Doll was dead. She lay with her round eyes
open to the ceiling, and her expression was one of peace and content.
Whatever she might have borne was dead within her.
8
_Without_ HELL _where is_ HEAVEN? _And without a Devil where is_ GOD?
_Also the last of Doll Bilby and an end to these instructions._
There are court records, affidavits, etc.; there are diaries, letters
and such; there is the memory of old gaffers and goodies to prove that
once Doll Bilby flourished. But of physical, inanimate objects nothing
that was associated with her evil life and awful end now exists. The
house she lived in mysteriously rotted and fell into the cellar hole.
The grave they dug her is now lost under a ploughed field (a sterile
field that yields little). Where the dungeon was now is a brick house,
a fine big house of red bricks had out from England. No one will live
there. Yet any gamin, for a copper penny, and any courting couple, for
wanton pleasure, will show you the very spot in the white birch thicket
where Doll met her demon lover night after night under the moonlight,
in that world of witchery which none to-day will ever see. For in
those days there were sights and wonders that will not come again. In
those days God was nearer to man than He is to-day, and where God is
there also must be His Evil Opponent—the Prince of Lies, for show me
Paradise, and there, around a corner, I will show you Hell.
_Finis coronat opus_
[Illustration: Demon and woman laying down]
Transcriber’s Notes
pg 12 Changed: (a thing she aways feared)
to: (a thing she always feared)
pg 59 Changed: but here was nothing more to lock
to: but there was nothing more to lock
pg 122 Changed: and how in Hartford
to: and now in Hartford