by Howard Pyle
“No, I give up Mistress Ann, she is possessed by a lying devil,” admitted Master Raymond.
“It is well she does not hear that speech,” said Joseph Putnam.
“Why?”
“Because, up to this time, you seem to have managed to soften her heart a little.”
“I have tried to. I have thought myself justified in playing a part — as King David once did you know.”
“It is that which brings me here. I met her at the house of a friend whom I called to see on some business a day or two ago.”
“Ah!”
“She said to me, in that soft purring voice of hers, ‘Brother Joseph, I hear that your good friend Master Raymond is still in Boston.’ I answered that I believed he was. ‘When he took leave of me,’ she continued, ‘I advised him not to stay long in that town — as it was often a bad climate for strangers. I am sorry he does not take wise counsel.’ Then she passed on, and out of the house. Have you any idea what she meant?”
Master Raymond studied a moment over it in silence. Then he said:— “It is the first warning of the rattlesnake, I suppose. How many do they usually give before they spring?”
“Three, the saying goes. But I guess this rattlesnake cannot be trusted to give more than one.”
“I was convinced I saw your brother Thomas as I came ashore from the Storm King the other day.”
“Ah, that explains it then. She understands it all then. She understands it all now just as well as if you had told her.”
“But why should she pursue so fiendishly an innocent girl like Dulcibel, who is not conscious of ever having offended her?”
“Why do tigers slay, and scorpions sting? Because it is their nature, I suppose,” replied Master Putnam philosophically. “Because, Mistress Dulcibel openly ridiculed and denounced her and the whole witchcraft business. And you will note that there has not been a single instance of this being done, that the circle of accusers have not seemed maddened to frenzy.”
“Yes, — there has been one case — your own.”
“That is true — because I am Thomas Putnam’s brother. And, dupe and tool as he is of that she-wolf, and though there is no great amount of love lost between us — still I am his brother! And that protects me. Besides they know that it is as much any two men’s lives are worth to attempt to arrest me.”
“And then you think there is no special enmity against Dulcibel?”
“I have not said so. Jethro Sands hates her because she refused him; Leah Herrick wants her driven away, because she herself wants to marry Jethro, and fears Jethro might after all, succeed in getting Dulcibel; and Sister Ann hates her, because—”
“Well, because what?”
“Oh, it seems too egotistical to say it — because she knows she is one of my dear friends.”
“She must dislike you very much then?”
“She does.”
“Why?”
“Oh, there is no good reason. At the first, she was inclined to like me — but I always knew she was a cold-blooded snake and she-wolf, and I would have nothing to do with her. Then when brother Thomas began to sink his manhood and become the mere dupe and tool of a scheming woman, I remonstrated with him. I think, friend Raymond, that I am as chivalrous as any man ought to be. I admire a woman in her true place as much as any man — and would fight and die for her. But for these men that forget their manhood, these Marc Antonies who yield up their sound reason and their manly strength to the wiles and tears and charms of selfish and ambitious Cleopatras, I have nothing but contempt. There are plenty of them around in all ages of the world, and they generally glory in their shame. Of course brother Thomas did not enjoy very much my mean opinion of his conduct — and as for sister Ann, she has never forgiven me, and never will.”
“And so you think she hates Dulcibel, mainly because you love her?”
“That is about the shape of it,” said Master Putnam drily. “That Dulcibel feels for me the affection of a sister, only intensifies my sister-in-law’s aversion to her. But then, you see, that merely on the general principle of denouncing all who set themselves in opposition to the so-called afflicted circle, Dulcibel would be accused of witchcraft.”
“Well, for my part, I think the whole affair can only be accounted for as being a piece of what we men of the world, who do not belong to any church, call devilishness,” said Master Raymond hotly.
“You see,” responded Master Putnam, “that you men of the world have to come to the same conclusion that we church members do. You impute it to ‘devilishness’ and we to being ‘possessed by the devil.’ It is about the same thing. And now give me an idea of your latest plans. Perhaps I can forward them in some way, either here or at Salem.”
See Drake’s History of Boston
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
Conflicting Currents in Boston.
All this time the under-current of opposition to these criminal proceedings against the alleged witches, was growing stronger, at Boston. The Reverend Samuel Willard and Joshua Moody both ministers of undoubted orthodoxy from the Puritan stand-point, did not scruple to visit the accused in the keeping of jailer Arnold, and sympathize openly with them. Captain Alden and Master Philip English and his wife especially, were persons of too great wealth and reputation not to have many sympathizing friends.
On the other hand, the great majority of the Puritans, under the lead of the Reverend Cotton Mather, and the two Salem ministers, Parris and Noyes were determined that the prosecution should go on, until the witches, those children of the Evil One, were thoroughly cast out; even if half of their congregations should have to be hung by the other half.
At a recent trial in Salem, one of the “afflicted” had even gone so far as to cry out against the Rev. Master Willard. But the Court, it seemed, was not quite ready for that; for the girl was sent out of court, being told that she must have mistaken the person. When this was reported to Master Willard, it by no means tended to lessen his growing belief that the prosecutions were inspired by evil spirits.
Of course in this condition of things, the position of the Governor, Sir William Phips, became a matter of the first importance. As he owed his office mainly to the influence of the Rev. Increase Mather, and sat under the weekly ministrations of his learned son, Cotton Mather, the witch prosecutors had a very great hold upon him. With a good natural intellect, Sir William had received a very scanty education; and was therefore much impressed by the prodigious attainments of such men as the two Mathers. To differ with them on a theological matter seemed to him rather presumptuous. If they did not know what was sound in theology, and right in practise; why was there any use in having ministers at all, or who could be expected to be certain of anything?
Then if Sir William turned to the law, he was met by an almost unanimous array of lawyers and judges who endorsed the witchcraft prosecution. Chief-Justice Stoughton, honest and learned Judge Sewall — and nearly all the rest of the judiciary — were sure of the truth in this matter. Not one magistrate could be found in the whole province, to decide as a sensible English judge is reported by tradition to have done, in the case of an old woman who at last acknowledged in the feebleness of her confused intellect that she was a witch, and in the habit of riding about on a broomstick: “Well, as I know of no law that forbids old women riding about on broomsticks, if they fancy that mode of conveyance, you are discharged.” But there was not one magistrate at that time, wise or learned enough to make such a sensible decision in the whole of New England.
Thus with the almost unanimous bar, and the great preponderance of the clergy, advising him to pursue a certain course, Sir William undoubtedly would have followed it, had he not been a man whose sympathies naturally were with sea-captains, military officers, and other men-of-the-world; and, moreover, if he had not a wife, herself the daughter of a sea-captain, who was an utter disbeliever in her accused friends being witches, and who had moreover a very strong will of her own.
Of course if the Governor should co
me to Lady Mary’s opinion, the prosecution might as well be abandoned — for, with a stroke of his pen, he could remit the sentences of all the convicted persons. Left to himself and Lady Mary, he doubtless would have done this; but he wished to continue in his office, and to be a successful Governor; and he knew that to array himself against the prosecution and punishment of the alleged witches was to displease the great majority of the people of the province; including, as I have shown, the most influential persons. In fact, it was simply to retire from his government in disgrace.
All this the Reverend Cotton Mather represented to Sir William, with much else of a less worldly, but no doubt still more effective character, based upon various passages of the old Testament rather than upon anything corresponding to them in the New.
And so the prosecutions and convictions went on; but the further executions waited upon the Governor’s decision.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
The Rattlesnake Makes a Spring.
It was a Thursday afternoon, and the “afflicted circle” was having one of its informal meetings at the house of Mistress Ann Putnam. At these meetings the latest developments were talked over; and all the scandal of the neighborhood, and even of Boston and other towns, gathered and discussed. Thus in the examination of Captain Alden in addition to the material charges of witchcraft against him, which I have noted, were entirely irrelevant slanders of the grossest kind against his moral character which the “afflicted girls” must have gathered from very low and vulgar sources.
The only man present on this occasion was Jethro Sands; and the girls, especially Leah Herrick, could not but wonder who now was to be “cried out against,” that Jethro was brought into their counsels.
It is a curious natural instinct which leads every faculty — even the basest — to crave more food in proportion to the extent in which it has been already gratified. In the first place, the “afflicted” girls no doubt had their little spites, revenges, and jealousies to indulge, but afterwards they seemed to “cry out” against those of whom they hardly knew anything, either to oblige another of the party, or to punish for an expressed disbelief in their sincerity, or even out of the mere wantonness of power to do evil.
Mistress Ann Putnam opened the serious business of the afternoon, after an hour or so had been spent in gossip and tale-bearing, by an account of some recent troubles of hers.
“A few nights ago,” said she, “I awakened in the middle of the night with choking and strangling. I knew at once that a new ‘evil hand’ was upon me; for the torment was different from any I had ever experienced. I thought the hand that grasped me around the throat would have killed me — and there was a heavy weight upon my breast, so that I could hardly breathe. I clutched at the thing that pressed upon my breast, and it felt hard and bony like a horse’s hoof — and it was a horse. By the faint moonlight I saw it was the wild black ‘familiar’ that belongs to the snake-marked witch, Dulcibel Burton. But the hand that grasped my throat was the strong hand of a man. I caught a sight of his face. I knew it well. But I pity him so much that I hesitate to reveal it. I feel as if I would almost rather suffer myself, than accuse so fine a young man as he seemed to be of such wicked conduct.”
“But it appears to me that it is your duty to expose him, Mistress Putnam,” said Jethro Sands. “I know the young man whose spectre you saw, for he and that black witch of a mare seem to be making their nightly rounds together. They ‘afflicted’ me the other night the same way. I flung them off; and I asked him what he meant by acting in that way? And he said he was a lover of the witch Dulcibel; who was one of the queens of Hell — I might know that by the snake-mark on her bosom. And she had told him that he must afflict all those who had testified against her; and she would lend him her ‘familiar,’ the black mare, to help him do it.”
By this time, even the dullest of the girls of course saw very plainly who was being aimed at; but Mistress Putnam added, “upon learning that Master Jethro had also been afflicted by this person, I had very little doubt that I should find the guilty young man had been doing the same to all of you; for we have seen heretofore that when these witches attack one of us, they attack all, hating all for the same reason, that we expose and denounce them. I may add that I have also heard that the young man in question is now in Boston doing all he can in aid of the snake-witch Dulcibel Burton; and representing all of us to Lady Mary Phips and other influential persons, as being untruthful and malicious accusers of innocent people.” Here she turned to one who had always been her right-hand as it were, and said:— “I suppose you have been tormented in the same way, dear Abigail?”
Ann Putnam, her daughter, however, that precocious and unmanageable girl of twelve, here broke in: “I think my mother is entirely mistaken. I was treated just the same way about a week ago; but it was not the spectre of Master Raymond at all — it was the spectre of another man whom I never saw before. It was not at all like Master Raymond; and I, for one, will not join in crying out against him.”
In those old times, parents were treated with a much greater show, at least, of respect and veneration than they are at present; and therefore Mistress Putnam was greatly shocked at her daughter’s language; but her daughter was well known to all present as an exceptional child, being very forward and self-willed, and therefore her mother simply said, “I had not expected such unkind behavior from you, Ann.”
“Master Raymond has been very kind to all of us, you know — has given us pretty things, and has promised to send us all presents when he gets back from England; and I have heard you and father both say, that the Putnams always stand up for their friends.”
This reference to the promised presents from England, evidently told all around the circle. They had nothing to gain by “crying out” against Master Raymond, they had something to gain by not doing it; besides, he was a very handsome young man, who had tried to make himself agreeable to almost all of them as he had opportunity. And though Dulcibel’s beauty went for nothing in their eyes, a young man’s good looks and gallant bearing were something entirely different.
And so Abigail Williams, and Mary Walcot, and Mercy Lewis, and Leah Herrick, and Sarah Churchill, and Elizabeth Hubbard all had the same tale to tell with suitable variations, as young Ann Putnam had. They were certain that the face of the “spectre” was not the face of Master Raymond; but of some person they had never before seen. Mercy Lewis and Sarah Churchill, in fact, were inclined to think it was the face of Satan himself; and they all wondered very much that Mistress Putnam could have mistaken such an old and ugly face, for that of the comely young Englishman.
As for Leah Herrick, she did not care in her secret heart if Master Raymond were in love with Dulcibel — so that he would only take her out of the country, where there was no danger of Jethro’s seeing her any more. All her belief that Dulcibel was a witch was based upon jealousy, and now that it was utterly improbable that Jethro would ever turn his thoughts in that direction again, she had no hard feeling towards her; while, as she also had reason to expect a handsome present from England, she did not share in the least Jethro’s bitterness against the young Englishman.
But although Mistress Putnam was thus utterly foiled in her effort to enlist the “afflicted circle” in her support, she was not the woman to give up her settled purpose on that account. She knew well that she was a host in herself, so far as the magistrates were concerned. And, having Jethro Sands to join her, it made up the two witnesses that were absolutely necessary by the law of Massachusetts as of Moses. The “afflicted circle” might not aid her, but it was not likely that they would openly revolt, and take part against her in public; and so she went the very next morning in company with that obedient tool, her husband and Jethro Sands, to the office of Squire Hathorne, and got him to issue a warrant for the arrest of Master Ellis Raymond, on the usual charge of practicing witchcraft.
CHAPTER XL.
An Interview with Lady Mary.
Master Raymond, having obtained an introduction
to the Governor’s wife, Lady Mary, lost no time in endeavoring to “cultivate the amenities of life,” so far as that very influential person was concerned. He had paid the most deferential court to her on several occasions where he had been able to meet her socially; and had impressed the Governor’s lady very favorably, as being an unusually handsome, well-bred and highly cultivated young man. A comely and high-spirited lady of forty, she was better pleased to be the recipient of the courteous and deferential attentions of a young Englishman of good connections like Master Raymond, than even to listen to the wise and weighty counsel of so learned a man as Master Cotton Mather.
Only in the last minutes of their last meeting however, when handing her ladyship to her carriage, did Master Raymond feel at liberty to ask her if he could have a short private interview with her the next morning. She looked a little surprised, and then said, “Of course, Master Raymond.”
“At what hour will it suit your ladyship?”
“At twelve, precisely, I have an engagement at one;” and the carriage drove off.
A minute or two before twelve, Master Raymond was at the Governor’s house in Green lane; and was duly admitted, as one expected, and shown into her ladyship’s boudoir.
“Now, come right to the point, Master Raymond; and tell me what I can do for you,” said her ladyship smiling. “If I can help you, I will; if I cannot, or must not, I shall say so at once — and you must continue to be just as good a friend to me as ever.”
“I promise that to your ladyship,” replied the young man earnestly. He really liked and admired Lady Mary very much.
“Is it love, or money? — young men always want one of these.”