When I crawled into bed with Mem, her body shook with silent sobs. I stroked her hair, trying to soothe her. “Our uncle is in a better place now,” I said, unless he is with the Devil, but that did not need saying. “God will provide for us. He always has.”
She pulled away and hissed, “You do not understand anything, do you? I am not crying because of our uncle!”
So it was Darcy, then. She really does not want to marry him. She is right, I do not understand.
Wednesday, April ye 13th
Monday got cut off by Tuesday, but there was much more to tell about the examinations. When Elizabeth Proctor came forward, there were many witnesses who claimed that she hurt them and that she brought them the book to write in. Ann Putnam said that Goody Proctor had made her maid set her hand to it. I knew that those girls would turn against Mary Warren after she told that they do dissemble!
Abigail Williams turned to Mrs. Proctor and said, “Did you not tell me that your maid had written?”
Mrs. Proctor was utterly amazed. She said, “Dear child, it is not so. There is another judgment, dear child.” Her kindness was thrown away on the wretched girls, for Abigail and Ann commenced to outdo themselves with fits. Mrs. Proctor was so shocked at that, she fell into a sort of trance, silent and still as a stone.
Her husband could not abide it. With indignation he rose up and expressed his outrage at the nonsense in bold, strong, and unguarded language. I wished that Goodman Corey had done the same for his wife! Yet soon I was just as relieved that he had not, for it was not long before the girls were calling out against John Proctor! First Ann Putnam, and then Abigail Williams cried out, “There is Goodman Proctor going to Mrs. Pope!”
Mrs. Pope presently fell into a fit.
Then they shouted, “There is Goodman Proctor going to hurt Goody Bibber!”
Immediately Goody Bibber fell into a fit.
On and on it went, and now the circle of accusers had spread ever wider. A stream of witnesses gushed forth, and called out a stream of names. Benjamin Gould claimed to have seen many specters in his chamber, including Giles Corey with Martha. Goodman Corey, a wizard? I did not know whether to laugh or cry.
The few times I have seen Goodman Corey since his wife’s examination, he has seemed short in stature and long in the face. His daughter told me at Sunday Meeting that she is very concerned that he may do himself in. I surely hope he does not! Suicide is the only sin that can never be repented.
He is sore distressed at the turn of events, and regrets anything he might have said to implicate his wife. He does not believe Martha to be a witch. Because he knows she is not one, he now wonders if there are any witches at all. The two sons-in-law who once spake ill of Martha Corey are now wagging their tongues against Giles! Perhaps they do not believe what their tongues wag, but only do it to avoid being accused themselves.
Apparently witches run in families. By the time the day was done, Goodman Proctor was imprisoned as a wizard.
As we got into the carriage to head home, Benjamin shook his head in astonishment. “I believe that the girls are suffering from the Devil’s Hand. Still, how can it be that good people are committed to prison on their word alone? How can someone under the influence of Satan be reliable? How can sane people trust the hallucinations of little girls and slaves, instead of their own eyes and ears? Did anyone search John Proctor’s house for his puppets or familiars? Has anyone ever seen him perform any magic in person?”
Such a feeling of relief flooded my body at that moment, it made my head float. “Thank you!” I burst out, and could not help but gloat at Mem. “There is somebody else in this world who still has a brain in his head!”
“Liv!” she said. “What are you saying!”
I gushed: “Do you honestly think that if John Proctor were a wizard, he would send his specter out to torture innocent people, right there in front of God and everyone else? If he were a wizard, do you not think he would have the good sense to stay home on Monday, or at least to keep his specter to himself in court, where he would be sure to get caught? Open your eyes, Mem. Anybody who dares call those girls into question immediately becomes a victim of their accusations.”
Ben nodded. “If it looks like horse dung and smells like horse dung, it is probably horse dung.”
I laughed. Mem folded her arms over her chest and glared at us each in turn. “Benjamin may have a brain, but he obviously never took it to Harvard. Do you not think that the Ministers and judges know more about these matters than we do? If they are convinced by the spectral evidence, then who are we to disagree? Witches work within the invisible world. How can anyone other than the girls themselves know who afflicts them? If nobody but the horse sees or smells the horse dung, that does not mean it is not still there.”
Benjamin kissed his teeth, and whipped the horse on faster. Methinks she convinced him! How is it that Mem always manages to win the day?
April ye 14th
Dreamt I was flying away from wolves in the dark, but no matter how high I fly, they can jump higher, and pull me down by my heels. I woke in a terror before they could eat me and did not dare fall back to sleep. Why do I fly like a witch? Why do wolves leap like frogs? Oh, if only I could talk to Goody Corey!
Friday, April ye 15th
Had to leave my writing yesterday because Mem and Ben were calling for me. They stared suspiciously as I stepped out of the woods. Luckily I had not just my book but my basket with me, filled with budding fiddlehead ferns that grow along the banks of the brook out back. When they are steamed, nothing melts on the mouth so well! The second Ben laid eyes on them, he rode off to buy a spot of butter.
Saturday, April ye 16th
Today, Darcy’s horses brought us an amazing sight. Off the wagon came a gush of children, each carrying some small thing—dishes, napkins, spoons. Then climbed down a group of men carrying big things — a great stuffed turkey, a pig still roasting in a portable spit, sawhorses, and a giant tableboard. Then they turned back and gave their hands up to the women carrying middle-sized things — pots and pans and kettles. With the way cleared, the elder folk picked their way carefully to the edge, and were helped down. They just carried themselves. Finally, two of the young men hopped back up and carried down an armchair with an old man tied into it.
Hitty came and hugged me and Mem, then went to direct the others in setting up the feast while Darcy made introductions. Mem, Ben, and I met all eight of Darcy’s brothers and sisters, from his oldest brother, Adam, down to wheezy Robert and little Rebecca. Adam was the very likeness of his father, and Mem noticed. Her cheeks turned bright red as she stammered her greeting.
Becca counted Mem’s fingers and somehow got to twelve! She told me what beautiful big feet I have. She wishes she had some like mine. I can see why Darcy beams over her like a sunflower over a garden.
We also met his two brothers-in-law, some aunts, uncles, and cousins, plus a whole tribe of bent-nosed nieces and nephews. I could hardly remember anyone’s names by the time they had all been introduced. The old man in the armchair was Darcy’s grandfather, who gave them their nose and name.
But where was Darcy’s father? Mem watched for him over the shoulders of the women who hugged her in greeting, but he did not get down from the wagon. While the men were building a huge bonfire, another horse came trotting up, pulling a small carriage. Handsome Mr. Cooper had with him a tall, smiling woman and two boys little more than my age. I hoped she was his sister, but she did not have the right nose, and she set her hand on his arm as they approached us. Sure enough, Mr. Cooper introduced the woman as his betrothed.
Mem did not show it as she greeted his future wife, but I knew her insides must be flinching and wincing and pinching. Her nervous toes twitched under her hems. It was all she could do to put on a friendly face. She remained quiet, only speaking when spoken to all the day, and never once told one of her stories or let her beautiful laugh fly like pollen through the air.
How she could not join the p
leasures of that charmed family, I do not know. After the feast, the men played horseshoes and drank ale while the boys ran up and down the road with their hoops and played ball games. The girls jumped rope and the women sat in a quilting circle, working a pattern for Mem’s marriage bed. They invited me to join them with my needle and frame, but I did not know whether I wanted to sew or jump rope. If it were proper I would rather have played horseshoes! So I decided to sit in the middle and watch it all.
The men talked about horses and business and politics. The women talked about things of the house and family. They are thrilled that Darcy has found a sweetheart. Now Adam will be able to marry his girl, too. She comes from a good family, landowners near the Coopers in Havr’il. I was taken aback to hear this. The oldest brother marries a poor orphan, while the younger marries well?
Somebody brought the old grandfather his stringed instrument, and he played songs until after a time everyone was dancing. Mr. Parris would not have approved, but Mr. Cooper said it was no sin. He said that Ministers who think every pleasure is wrong must ignore God to make their arguments. Miriam and David danced in the Bible! I danced with little Becca. Darcy danced Mem off into the meadow across the way, and they took a private stroll in full sight but out of the hearing of all forty chaperones. I wished a little bird would come tell me what they said!
It was not until the sun flowed like a river of light along the western hills that the Coopers loaded up the wagon and pulled away. Ben, Mem, and I set to cleaning up the yard. “How do you like the family?” I said to her. I, for one, was filled with a joy that I thought could only be felt by one of God’s elect. I could not thank Him enough for the Coopers.
Ben laughed, as if I had spoken the most foolish thought ever to escape human lips. He himself had enjoyed the merriment as much as anyone, and had lost at horseshoes because he kept stealing looks at one of Darcy’s pretty cousins. So he is not immune to girls, after all!
Mem looked away and knelt to pick up a wooden ball that one of the children had left. She studied the ball, then tossed it absently from hand to hand.
“It is a fine family,” Ben said. “God shines His providence on the Trembleys letting Mem join it. They would like to have the wedding as soon as possible.”
Mem pulled her arm back and threw the ball with all her might. It landed in the meadow where she had walked with Darcy. “You simpleton, Ben! No daughter from a fine family wants an ugly, limping, stuttering husband! He only wants me because he cannot do any better! Can you not see it? The family has been putting pressure on him to find a wife, so Adam can marry his sweetheart!” Then she ran crying into the house.
I do not believe she is right. Has she not seen the look on Darcy’s face when she is near? He has chosen her. Oh, what a fortunate fool she is!
Sunday ye 17th of April
Now that the Coopers have gone home, the witches are flying out my pen again. On Saturday the specter of Goody Bishop from Salem Town was tormenting the girls, and so was Mary Warren. What will Mary do now? Will she go to jail, and be condemned with the innocent? Or will she recant, and go back with the girls to stay out of prison?
Methinks she is not strong in her faith like Corey, Nurse, and Cloyse. They would rather die than confess to something they did not do. Now that her master and mistress are locked in jail and cannot stand over her to keep her honest, methinks Mary will soon be suffering her fits again.
Besides all the usual characters, someone new afflicted the girls during Meeting today. To nobody’s surprise, it was that awful Hobbs girl. I wonder that nobody accused her sooner, since she is so proud to say she met the Devil.
During the ride home, Ben was more quiet than usual. I asked him if the cat got his tongue. He shook his head in a troubled manner. “I am disturbed by what transpired at Meeting. Those girls should not be allowed to desecrate the Lord’s Day with their antics. They should be kept at home, and suffer their affliction in private. What has possessed the Ministers and deacons?”
Now Mem was shaking her head. “You have it opposite, Benjamin. What better place than the Lord’s House on the Lord’s Day for the girls to receive the healing power of a congregation in prayer? What other way can the Devil be thwarted, other than faith in the Lord?”
Benjamin nodded, uncertainly, but still nodded, and said Mem made herself a good point. “Sister,” he said, “I have been thinking, and I have decided that I take back my threat. Darcy is a good man from a fine family, but I do not wish to see you miserable all your life. If you do not wish to marry him, I will support you until we find a match that will make you happy.”
Mem made a surprised noise in her throat, and whispered her thanks. The horse had stopped to nibble the tender shoots of grass growing up in the center strip of the road. Ben whistled and whipped the horse on.
How I wish I had the ability to sway people to my way of thinking, as Mem does!
Monday ye 18th of April
Complaints were filed today by Ezekiel Cheever and John Putnam, Jr., against Giles Corey, Abigail Hobbs, Bridget Bishop, and Mary Warren. Those two men are keeping themselves quite busy at this. I am wondering, if they and the other few men who like to file complaints would stop going to the courts, would the girls stop their antics, too?
Mr. Hathorne and Mr. Corwin could put a stop to it, too, if they would just ask for real evidence they can see with their own eyes, instead of believing in specters.
Mr. Parris could stop the whole thing in one sermon.
Tuesday ye 19th of April
Mem and I got in another fight. Ben had to pull me off her, or I fear I would have pounded her to a pulp. It was over the examinations.
Mem woke up before the rooster to get ready, and tried to yank me out of bed to go with her. I refused. She appealed to Ben. Ben said I did not have to go if I did not want to. He said he did not wish to go, either, but planned to stay home and work. “If you have seen one examination, you have seen them all,” he said.
We do not go for sport, Mem said. We go to support the girls, and smite the Devil. We go to know what is happening, to have all the latest news on the witches. That way we can know who be our friends and who be our enemies. If we do not go, we may well miss something important, and make a mistake that will alter our paths forever. We might find ourselves in the grasp of a witch we call our friend, and damage our immortal souls.
“Like Liv with Martha Corey,” she said. “Benjamin, do you know that your own sister loves a witch?”
How dare she! Before Mem could say any more, I flew at her and made her bloody sorry, until Ben pulled me off her.
“What is this about?” he asked with concern.
What could I say? Benjamin is fair, that is true, and not too stupid, but I had no faith that he would believe me instead of Mem. I decided to keep it simple. “Before Martha Corey was accused, I used to go read to her from the Bible, and from Mrs. Rowlandson’s narrative. We would pray together to heal the afflicted. She is a good Gospel woman, not a witch!”
At that, I gave Mem one more punch, for good measure. Ben pulled me back. She glared at me. I glared at her.
“Remembrance,” said Ben, “do you think Deliverance is a witch?”
Mem rolled her eyes. “I never said Deliverance is a witch. But you have heard her yourself: She does not believe Martha Corey is a witch. She does not even believe Sarah Goode is a witch. In fact, I do not think Liv believes in witches at all. What kind of Christian does not believe in witches?”
Ben squinted at her, and at me. “Sister, do you believe in witches?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, and thought about how to conceal the truth in honesty. “I believe that some people try to use the Devil’s power through black magic,” I said, “and those people believe themselves to be witches.”
“Answer the question!” screamed Mem.
What could I say? “No! All right? No, I do not believe in witches anymore! Why would the Devil need the magic of witches to do his work when he has plenty
of stupid people to do it for him?”
At that, Mem looked stunned, but Benjamin bent his head back and filled the room with thunderous laughter.
“There you have, it, Mem. Your sister does not believe in witches. Therefore, you need not worry. She shall never become one. Enjoy the examinations. Liv and I have greens to plant.”
Wednesday ye 20th of April
Mem came home sober in the face. She said the examinations were a nasty business, and would not tell us another word about them, since we did not care enough to go ourselves. I wanted to hear how it went with Giles Corey, but did not dare ask her. She hardly said a word all night, and kept to herself all morning, too.
“So let Mem be mum,” said Ben, as we were eating dinner. “We shall hear all about the examinations soon enough whether we want to or not. Why, here comes the gossip now.”
It was Susannah Sheldon, come knocking with her sewing basket. She told Benjamin that it was nice to see him looking in good health, as she had not seen him Tuesday and worried he might be ill. He wiped the crumbs off his beard and said, “The work around here does not do itself, but the examinations can go on without me, so here I be, and off I go.” He tipped his hat, and went out to work. Susannah looked disappointedly at the closed door.
Then Mem and Susannah sat talking over their sewing. At first they kept their voices low, so I could not hear their words over my spinning, but after a while they must have forgotten I was there and spoke normally. They were talking about what a “damned, Devilish rogue” Giles Corey is, and how the more he denied the accusations, the more everyone believed them.
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