During the seventeenth century, the superstitions of the Middle Ages had
not yet relaxed their hold on men’s minds. People still believed in
witches, even such a prominent clergyman as Cotton Mather. Hence, the
events of 1692 in Salem, Massachusetts, are understandable, though they
are nonetheless tragic. Early that year Betty Parris and Abigail
Williams, who were nine and eleven years old, began having strange fits.
Soon the mysterious disease spread to other girls in the village. When
the local doctor, with his primitive knowledge of medicine, could not
diagnose the trouble, he concluded that the devil must have bewitched
the girls.
This diagnosis did not surprise anyone. The New England Puritans
believed that the devil was always at work trying to tempt them from the
path of righteousness. The parents of the children set about to discover
the identity of the devil’s agent who was tormenting their girls. They
questioned the children at length until the children really began to
believe they were bewitched. Betty and Abigail then accused three women
in the community of practicing witchcraft: Tituba, an illiterate slave
from Barbados; Sarah Good, a sharp-tongued woman whom many in the
village thought a nuisance; and Sarah Osburne, a backslider who did not
go to church. No one was surprised when these women were named as
witches. The town proceeded to examine the three on charges of
practicing witchcraft. John Hathorne, ancestor of the novelist Nathaniel
Hawthorne, conducted the hearing in the village church.
The first of the accused to be questioned was Sarah Good, who denied the
charges with vigor. Then came Sarah Osburne, who was dragged out of a
sickbed to testify. She, too, denied the charges. But, every time these
women denied the charges the children became hysterical and went into
their fits. Finally, the old slave Tituba was questioned. She apparently
decided that she should tell her accusers what they wanted to hear, and
she concocted a wild tale of witchcraft out of her rich imagination. The
selections that follow are actual transcripts of the testimony taken
down that infamous day, March 1, 1692, in Salem by the village clerk.
The proceedings have been edited just enough to make them readable.
HATHORNE: Sarah Good, what evil spirit have you familiarity with?
GOOD: None.
H: Have you made no contract with the devil?
G: No.
H: Why do you hurt these children?
G: I do not hurt them. I scorn it.
H: Who do you employ then to do it?
G: I employ nobody.
H: What creature do you employ then?
G: No creature; I am falsely accused.
H: Why did you go away muttering from Mr. Parris’ house?
G: I did not mutter, but I thanked him for what he gave my child.
H: Have you made no contract with the devil?
G: No.
Judge Hathorne desired the children, all of them, to look upon her and
see if this were the person that had hurt them, and so they all did
look upon her and said this was one of the persons that did torment
them. Presently they were all tormented.
H: Sarah Good, do you not see now what you have done? Why do you not
tell us the truth? Why do you thus torment these poor children?
G: I do not torment them.
H: Who do you employ then?
G: I employ nobody. I scorn it.
H: How came they thus tormented?
G: What do I know? You bring others here, and now you charge me with
it.
H: Why who was it?
G: I do not know, but it was someone you brought into the meeting
house with you.
H: We brought you into the meeting house.
G: But you brought in two more.
H: Who was it then that tormented the children?
G: It was Osburne.
H: What is it you say when you go muttering away from persons’ houses?
G: If I must tell, I will tell.
H: Do tell us then.
G: It is the commandments. I may say my commandments, I hope.
The testimony went on for a while longer. Sarah Good continued to be a
very uncooperative witness, but finally Judge Hathorne finished with her
and called Sarah Osburne to the stand.
HATHORNE: What evil spirit have you familiarity with?
OSBURNE: None.
H: Have you made no contract with the devil?
O: No, I never saw the devil in my life.
H: Why do you hurt these children?
O: I do not hurt them.
H: Who do you employ then to hurt them?
O: I employ nobody.
H: What familiarity have you with Sarah Good?
O: None. I have not seen her these two years.
H: Where did you see her then?
O: One day a-going to town.
H: What communications had you with her?
O: I had none, only, how do you do or so. I did not know her name.
H: What did you call her then?
[_At this point Sarah Osburne had to admit that she had called her
Sarah._]
H: Sarah Good saith that it was you that hurt the children.
O: I do not know if the devil goes about in my likeness to do any
hurt.
Mr. Hathorne desired all the children to stand up and look upon her
and see if they did know her, which they all did, and every one of
them said that this was one of the women that did afflict them and
that they had constantly seen her in the very habit that she was now
in.
The evidence continued. In a feeble effort to gain sympathy, she said
that she “was more like to be bewitched than that she was a witch.” Mr.
Hathorne asked her what made her say this. She answered that she was
frightened one time in her sleep and either saw or dreamed that she saw
a thing “like an Indian all black which did prick her in the neck and
pulled her by the back part of her head to the door of the house.” Mr.
Hathorne asked her if she had seen anything else. She replied that she
had not. At this point, however, some of the spectators said that Sarah
Osburne also had heard the voice of a lying spirit.
H: Hath the devil ever deceived you and been false to you?
O: I do not know the devil. I never did see him.
H: What lying spirit was it then?
O: It was a voice that I thought I heard.
H: What did it propound to you?
O: That I should go no more to meeting, but I said I would and did go
the next Sabbath day.
H: Were you never tempted further?
O: No.
H: Why did you yield thus far to the devil as never to go to meeting
since?
O: Alas! I have been sick and not able to go.
Sarah Osburne was then dismissed from the stand, and Mr. Hathorne
began to question Tituba, the slave, who told her questioners just
what they wanted to hear.
HATHORNE: Did you never see the devil?
TITUBA: The devil came to me and bid me serve him....
H: What service?
T: Hurt the children, and last night there was an appearance
[_apparition_] that said to kill the children and if I would not go on
hurting the children they would do worse to me.
H: What is this appearance you see?
T: Sometimes he is like a hog and sometimes like a great dog.
H: What did it say to you?
T: The black dog said, “Serve me,” but I said, “I am afraid.” He said
if I did not he would do worse to me.
H: What did you say to it?
T: I will serve you no longer. Then he said he would hurt me, and then
he looked like a man. This man had a yellow bird that he kept with
him, and he told me he had more pretty things that he would give me if
I would serve him....
H: Did you not pinch Elizabeth Hubbard this morning?
T: The man brought her to me and made me pinch her.
H: Why did you go to Thomas Putnam’s last night and hurt his child?
T: They pull and haul me and make me go....
H: How did you go?
T: We ride upon sticks and are there presently.
H: Why did you not tell your master?
T: I was afraid. They said they would cut off my head if I told....
H: Did not you hurt Mr. Corwin’s child?
T: Goody [_Mrs._] Good and Goody Osburne told me that they did hurt
Mr. Corwin’s child and would have had me hurt him too, but I did
not....
H: Do you see who it is that torments these children now?
T: Yes, it is Goody Good. She hurts them now in her own shape.
And so the testimony went. Tituba’s story was even more sensational when
she described the “tall man of Boston,” who was supposed to be a wizard
in charge of all the local witches. The court adjourned for the day,
convinced that the devil had chosen Salem as a special point of attack.
Soon, other people in the village began imagining that they, too, were
being pursued by witches. Neighbor began accusing neighbor until the
whole community was swept up by the hysteria.
Throughout the summer of 1692, Salem was gripped by the witch hunt.
Twenty persons were executed for witchcraft; 55 were frightened or
tortured into confessing their guilt; 150 were jailed; more than 200
were denounced by former friends and neighbors. For a time it looked as
if Massachusetts had gone mad. But when the denunciations began to
include some of the most prominent members of the community, such as the
acting president of Harvard College, the authorities knew the hysteria
had to stop or it would destroy the colony. In September the trials were
halted and the jails emptied. In succeeding years many people repented
their part in the tragic business, and the state even restored some of
the property confiscated from the so-called witches.