Salem Witchcraft, the Planchette Mystery, and Modern Spiritualism — Salem Witchcraft: Goody Nurse’s Excommunication - The Views of Modern Investigators

GOODY NURSE'S EXCOMMUNICATION.

On the next Sunday there was a scene in the church, the record of which was afterward annotated by the church members in a spirit of grief and humiliation.

After sacrament the elders propounded to the church, and the congregation unanimously agreed, that Sister Nurse, being convicted as a witch by the court, should be excommunicated in the afternoon of the same day.

The place was thronged; the reverend elders were in the pulpit; the deacons presided below; the sheriff and his officers brought in the witch, and led her up the broad aisle, her chains clanking as she moved.

As she stood in the middle of the aisle, the Reverend Mr. Noyes pronounced her sentence of expulsion from the Church on earth, and from all hope of salvation hereafter.

As she had given her soul to Satan, she was delivered over to him for ever.

She was aware that every eye regarded her with horror and hate, unapproached under any other circumstances; but it appears that she was able to sustain it.

She was still calm and at peace on that day, and during the fortnight of final waiting.

When the time came, she traversed the streets of Salem between houses in which she had been an honored guest, and surrounded by well-known faces; and then there was the hard task, for her aged limbs, of climbing the rocky and steep path on Witches' Hill to the place where the gibbets stood in a row, and the hangman was waiting for her, and for Sarah Good, and several more of whom Salem chose to be rid that day.

It was the 19th of July, 1692. The bodies were put out of the way on the hill, like so many dead dogs; but this one did not remain there long.

By pious hands it was--nobody knew when--brought home to the domestic cemetery, where the next generation pointed out the grave, next to her husband's, and surrounded by those of her children.

As for her repute, Hutchinson, the historian, tells us that even excommunication could not permanently disgrace her.

"Her life and conversation had been such, that the remembrance thereof, in a short time after, wiped off all the reproach occasioned by the civil or ecclesiastical sentence against her."

(Vol. ii.

p. 292. ) [Great God!

and is this the road our ancestors had to travel in their pilgrimage in quest of freedom and Christianity?

Are these the fruits of the misunderstood doctrine of total depravity?

] Thus much comfort her husband had till he died in 1695. In a little while none of his eight children remained unmarried, and he wound up his affairs.

He gave over the homestead to his son Samuel, and divided all he had among the others, reserving only a mare and her saddle, some favorite articles of furniture, and £14 a year, with a right to call on his children for any further amount that might be needful.

He made no will, and his children made no difficulties, but tended his latter days, and laid him in his own ground, when at seventy-seven years old he died.

In 1711, the authorities of the Province, sanctioned by the Council of Queen Anne, proposed such reparation as their heart and conscience suggested.

They made a grant to the representatives of Rebecca Nurse of £25!

In the following year something better was done, on the petition of the son Samuel who inhabited the homestead.

A church meeting was called;

the facts of the excommunication of twenty years before were recited, and a reversal was proposed, "the General Court having taken off the attainder, and the testimony on which she was convicted being not now so satisfactory to ourselves and others as it was generally in that hour of darkness and temptation."

The remorseful congregation blotted out the record in the church book, "humbly requesting that the merciful God would pardon whatsoever sin, error, or mistake was in the application of that censure, and of the whole affair, through our merciful High Priest, who knoweth how to have compassion on the ignorant, and those that are out of the way."

(Vol. ii.

p. 483. ) MARY EASTY.

Such was the fate of Rebecca, the eldest of the three sisters.

Mary, the next--once her playmate on the sands of Yarmouth, in the old country--was her companion to the last, in love and destiny.

Mrs. Easty was arrested, with many other accused persons, on the 21st of April, while her sister was in jail in irons.

The testimony against her was a mere repetition of the charges of torturing, strangling, pricking, and pinching Mr. Parris' young friends, and rendering them dumb, or blind, or amazed.

Mrs. Easty was evidently so astonished and perplexed by the assertions of the children, that the magistrates inquired of the voluble witnesses whether they might not be mistaken.

As they were positive, and Mrs. Easty could say only that she supposed it was "a bad spirit," but did not know "whether it was witchcraft or not," there was nothing to be done but to send her to prison and put her in irons.

The next we hear of her is, that on the 18th of May she was free.

The authorities, it seems, would not detain her on such evidence as was offered.

She was at large for two days, and no more.

The convulsions and tortures of the children returned instantly, on the news being told of Goody Easty being abroad again; and the ministers, and elders, and deacons, and all the zealous antagonists of Satan went to work so vigorously to get up a fresh case, that they bore down all before them.

Mercy Lewis was so near death under the hands of Mrs. Easty's apparition that she was crying out "Dear Lord!

receive my soul!"

and thus there was clearly no time to be lost; and this choking and convulsion, says an eminent citizen, acting as a witness, "occurred very often until such time as we understood Mary Easty was laid in irons."

There she was lying when her sister Nurse was tried, excommunicated, and executed; and to the agony of all this was added the arrest of her sister Sarah, Mrs. Cloyse.

But she had such strength as kept her serene up to the moment of her death on the gibbet on the 22d of September following.

We would fain give, if we had room, the petition of the two sisters, Mrs. Easty and Mrs. Cloyse, to the court, when their trial was pending; but we can make room only for the last clause of its reasoning and remonstrance.

"Thirdly, that the testimony of witches, or such as are afflicted as is supposed by witches, may not be improved to condemn us without other legal evidence concurring.

We hope the honored Court and jury will be so tender of the lives of such as we are, who have for many years lived under the unblemished reputation of Christianity, as not to condemn them without a fair and equal hearing of what may be said for us as well as against us.

And your poor suppliants shall be bound always to pray, etc." (Vol. ii.

p. 326. ) Still more affecting is the Memorial of Mrs. Easty when under sentence of death and fully aware of the hopelessness of her case.

She addresses the judges, the magistrates, and the reverend ministers, imploring them to consider what they are doing, and how far their course in regard to accused persons is consistent with the principles and rules of justice.

She asks nothing for herself; she is satisfied with her own innocency, and certain of her doom on earth and her hope in heaven.

What she desires is to induce the authorities to take time, to use caution in receiving and strictness in sifting testimony; and so shall they ascertain the truth, and absolve the innocent, the blessing of God being upon their conscientious endeavors.

We do not know of any effect produced by her warning and remonstrance; but we find her case estimated, twenty years afterward, as meriting a compensation of £20!

[About one hundred dollars.

] Before setting forth from the jail to the Witches' Hill, on the day of her death, she serenely bade farewell to her husband, her many children, and her friends, some of whom related afterward that "her sayings were as serious, religious, distinct, and affectionate as could well be expressed, drawing tears from the eyes of almost all present."

MRS.

CLOYSE.

The third of this family of dignified gentlewomen seems to have had a keener sensibility than her sisters, or a frame less strong to endure the shocks prepared and inflicted by the malice of the enemy.

Some of the incidents of her implication in the great calamity are almost too moving to be dwelt on, even in a remote time and country.

Mrs. Cloyse drew ill-will upon herself at the outset by doing as her brother and sister Nurse did.

They all absented themselves from the examinations in the church, and, when the interruptions of the services became too flagrant, from Sabbath worship; and they said they took that course because they disapproved of the permission given to the profanation of the place and the service.

They were communicants, and persons of consideration, both in regard to character and position; and their quiet disapprobation of the proceedings of the ministers and their company of accusers subjected them to the full fury of clerical wrath and womanish spite.

When the first examination of Mrs. Nurse took place, Mrs. Cloyse was of course overwhelmed with horror and grief.

The next Sunday, however, was Sacrament Sunday; and she and her husband considered it their duty to attend the ordinance.

The effort to Mrs. Cloyse was so great that when Mr. Parris gave out his text, "One of you is a devil.

He spake of Judas Iscariot," etc. , and when he opened his discourse with references in his special manner to the transactions of the week, the afflicted sister of the last victim could not endure the outrage.

She left the meeting.

There was a fresh wind, and the door slammed as she went out, fixing the attention of all present, just as Mr. Parris could have desired.

She had not to wait long for the consequences.

On the 4th of April she was apprehended with several others; and on the 11th her examination took place, the questions being framed to suit the evidence known to be forthcoming, and Mr. Parris being the secretary for the occasion.

The witness in one case was asked whether she saw a company eating and drinking at Mr. Parris', and she replied, as expected, that she did.

"What were they eating and drinking?"

Of course, it was the Devil's sacrament; and Mr. Parris, by leading questions, brought out the testimony that about forty persons partook of that hell-sacrament, Mrs. Cloyse and Sarah Good being the two deacons!

When accused of the usual practices of cruelty to these innocent suffering children, and to the ugly, hulking Indian slave, who pretended to show the marks of her teeth, Mrs. Cloyse gave some vent to her feelings.

"When did I hurt thee?"

"A great many times," said the Indian.

"O, you are a grievous liar!"

exclaimed she.

But the wrath gave way under the soul-sickness which overcame her when charged with biting and pinching a black man, and throttling children, and serving their blood at the blasphemous supper.

Her sisters in prison, her husband accused with her, and young girls--mere children--now manifesting a devilish cruelty to her, who had felt nothing but good-will to them--she could not sustain herself before the assembly whose eyes were upon her.

She sank down, calling for water.

She fainted on the floor, and some of the accusing children cried out, "Oh!

her spirit has gone to prison to her sister Nurse!"

From that examination she was herself carried to prison.

When she joined her sister Easty in the petition to the Court in the next summer, she certainly had no idea of escaping the gallows; but it does not appear that she was ever brought to trial.

Mr. Parris certainly never relented; for we find him from time to time torturing the feelings of this and every other family whom he supposed to be anything but affectionate to him.

Some of the incidents would be almost incredible to us if they were not recorded in the church and parish books in Mr. Parris' own distinct handwriting.

On the 14th of August, when the corpse of Rebecca Nurse was lying among the rocks on the Witches' Hill, and her two sisters were in irons in Boston jail (for Boston had now taken the affair out of the hands of the unaided Salem authorities), and his predecessor, Mr. Burroughs, was awaiting his execution, Mr. Parris invited his church members to remain after service to hear something that he had to say.

He had to point out to the vigilance of the church that Samuel Nurse, the son of Rebecca, and his wife, and Peter Cloyse and certain others, of late had failed to join the brethren at the Lord's table, and had, except Samuel Nurse, rarely appeared at ordinary worship.

These outraged and mourning relatives of the accused sisters were decreed to be visited by certain pious representatives of the church, and the reason of their absence to be demanded.

The minister, the two deacons, and a chief member were appointed to this fearful task.

The report delivered in on the 31st of August was: "Brother Tarbell proves sick, unmeet for discourse; Brother Cloyse hard to be found at home, being often with his wife in the prison at Ipswich for witchcraft; and Brother Samuel Nurse, and sometimes his wife, attends our public meeting, and he the sacrament, 11th of September, 1692: upon all which we chose to wait further."

(Vol. ii.

p. 486. ) This decision to pause was noted as the first token of the decline of the power of the ministers.

Mr. Parris was sorely unwilling to yield even this much advantage to Satan--that is, to family affection and instinct of justice.

But his position was further lowered by the departure from the parish of some of the most eminent members of its society.

Mr. Cloyse never brought his family to the Village again, when his wife was once out of prison; and the name disappears from the history of Salem.

THE PROCTOR FAMILY.

We have sketched the life of one family out of many, and we will leave the rest for such of our readers as may choose to learn more.

Some of the statements in the book before us disclose a whole family history in a few words; as the following in relation to John Proctor and his wife: "The bitterness of the prosecutors against Proctor was so vehement that they not only arrested, and tried to destroy, his wife and all his family above the age of infancy, in Salem, but all her relatives in Lynn, many of whom were thrown into prison.

The helpless children were left destitute, and the house swept of its provisions by the sheriff.

Proctor's wife gave birth to a child about a fortnight after his execution.

This indicates to what alone she owed her life.

John Proctor had spoken so boldly against the proceedings, and all who had part in them, that it was felt to be necessary to put him out of the way."

(Vol. ii.

p. 312. ) The Rev. Mr. Noyes, the worthy coadjutor of Mr. Parris, refused to pray with Mr. Proctor before his death, unless he would confess; and the more danger there seemed to be of a revival of pity, humility, and reason, the more zealous waxed the wrath of the pious pastors against the Enemy of Souls.

When, on the fearful 22d of September, Mr. Noyes stood looking at the execution, he exclaimed that it was a sad thing to see eight firebrands of hell hanging there!

The spectacle was never seen again on Witches' Hill.

THE JACOBS FAMILY.

The Jacobs family was signalized by the confession of one of its members--Margaret, one of the "afflicted" girls.

She brought her grandfather to the gallows, and suffered as much as a weak, ignorant, impressionable person under evil influences could suffer from doubt and remorse.

But she married well seven years afterward--still feeling enough in regard to the past to refuse to be married by Mr. Noyes.

She deserved such peace of mind as she obtained, for she retracted the confession of witchcraft which she had made, and went to prison.

It was too late then to save her victims, Mr. Burroughs and her grandfather, but she obtained their full and free forgiveness.

At that time this was the condition of the family: "No account has come to us of the deportment of George Jacobs, Sr. , at his execution.

As he was remarkable in life for the firmness of his mind, so he probably was in death.

He had made his will before the delusion arose.

It is dated January 29, 1692, and shows that he, like Proctor, had a considerable estate....

In his infirm old age he had been condemned to die for a crime of which he knew himself innocent, and which there is some reason to believe he did not think any one capable of committing.

He regarded the whole thing as a wicked conspiracy and absurd fabrication.

He had to end his long life upon a scaffold in a week from that day.

His house was desolated, and his property sequestered.

His only son, charged with the same crime, had eluded the sheriff--leaving his family, in the hurry of his flight, unprovided for--and was an exile in foreign lands.

The crazy wife of that son was in prison and in chains, waiting trial on the same charge; her little children, including an unweaned infant, left in a deserted and destitute condition in the woods.

The older children were scattered he knew not where, while one of them had completed the bitterness of his lot by becoming a confessor, upon being arrested with her mother as a witch.

This granddaughter, Margaret, overwhelmed with fright and horror, bewildered by the statements of the accusers, and controlled probably by the arguments and arbitrary methods of address employed by her minister, Mr. Noyes--whose peculiar function in those proceedings seems to have been to drive persons accused to make confession--had been betrayed into that position, and became a confessor and accuser of others."

(Vol. ii.

p. 312. ) GILES AND MARTHA COREY.

The life and death of a prominent citizen, Giles Corey, should not be altogether passed over in a survey of such a community and such a time.

He had land, and was called "Goodman Corey;" but he was unpopular from being too rough for even so young a state of society.

He was once tried for the death of a man whom he had used roughly, but he was only fined.

He had strifes and lawsuits with his neighbors; but he won three wives, and there was due affection between him and his children.

He was eighty years old when the Witch Delusion broke out, and was living alone with his wife Martha--a devout woman who spent much of her time on her knees, praying against the snares of Satan, that is, the delusion about witchcraft.

She spoke freely of the tricks of the children, the blindness of the magistrates, and the falling away of many from common sense and the word of God; and while her husband attended every public meeting, she stayed at home to pray.

In his fanaticism he quarreled with her, and she was at once marked out for a victim, and one of the earliest.

When visited by examiners, she smiled, and conversed with entire composure, declaring that she was no witch, and that "she did not think that there were any witches."

By such sayings, and by the expressions of vexation that fell from her husband, and the fanaticism of two of her four sons-in-law, she was soon brought to extremity.

But her husband was presently under accusation too; and much amazed he evidently was at his position.

His wife was one of the eight "firebrands of hell" whom Mr. Noyes saw swung off on the 22d of September.

"Martha Corey," said the record, "protesting her innocency, concluded her life with an eminent prayer on the scaffold."

Her husband had been supposed certain to die in the same way; but he had chosen a different one.

His anguish at his rash folly at the outset of the delusion excited the strongest desire to bear testimony on behalf of his wife and other innocent persons, and to give an emphatic blessing to the two sons-in-law who had been brave and faithful in his wife's cause.

He executed a deed by which he presented his excellent children with his property in honor of their mother's memory; and, aware that if tried he would be condemned and executed, and his property forfeited, he resolved not to plead, and to submit to the consequence of standing mute.

Old as he was, he endured it.

He stood mute, and the court had, as the authorities believed, no alternative.

He was pressed to death, as devoted husbands and fathers were, here and there, in the Middle Ages, when they chose to save their families from the consequences of attainders by dying untried.

We will not sicken our readers with the details of the slow, cruel, and disgusting death.

He bore it, only praying for heavier weights to shorten his agony.

Such a death and such a testimony, and the execution of his wife two days later, weighed on every heart in the community; and no revival of old charges against the rough colonist had any effect in the presence of such an act as his last.

He was long believed to haunt the places where he lived and died;

and the attempt made by the ministers and one of their "afflicted" agents to impress the church and society with a vision which announced his damnation, was a complete failure.

Cotton Mather showed that Ann Putnam had received a divine communication, proving Giles Corey a murderer; and Ann Putnam's father laid the facts before the judge; but it was too late now for visions, and for insinuations to the judges, and for clerical agitation to have any success.

Brother Noyes hurried on a church meeting while Giles Corey was actually lying under the weights, to excommunicate him for witchcraft on the one hand, or suicide on the other; and the ordinance was passed.

But it was of no avail against the rising tide of reason and sympathy.

This was the last vision, and the last attempt to establish one in Salem, if not in the Province.

It remained for Mr. Noyes, and the Mathers, and Mr. Parris, and every clergyman concerned, to endure the popular hatred and their own self-questioning for the rest of their days.

The lay authorities were stricken with remorse and humbled with grief; but their share of the retribution was more endurable than that of the pastors who had proved so wolfish toward their flocks.

DECLINE OF THE DELUSION.

In the month of September, 1692, they believed themselves in the thick of "the fight between the Devil and the Lamb."

Cotton Mather was nimble and triumphant on the Witches' Hill whenever there were "firebrands of hell" swinging there; and they all hoped to do much good work for the Lord yet, for they had lists of suspected persons in their pockets, who must be brought into the courts month by month, and carted off to the hill.

One of the gayest and most complacent letters on the subject of this "fight" in the correspondence of Cotton Mather is dated on the 20th of September, 1692, within a month of the day when he was improving the occasion at the foot of the gallows where the former pastor, Rev. George Burroughs, and four others were hung.

In the interval fifteen more received sentence of death; Giles Corey had died his fearful death the day before; and in two days after, Corey's widow and seven more were hanged.

Mather, Noyes, and Parris had no idea that these eight would be the last.

But so it was.

Thus far, one only had escaped after being made sure of in the courts.

The married daughter of a clergyman had been condemned, was reprieved by the Governor, and was at last discharged on the ground of the insufficiency of the evidence.

Henceforth, after that fearful September day, no evidence was found sufficient.

The accusers had grown too audacious in their selection of victims; their clerical patrons had become too openly determined to give no quarter.

The Rev. Francis Dane signed memorials to the Legislature and the Courts on the 18th of October, against the prosecutions.

He had reason to know something about them, for we hear of nine at least of his children, grandchildren, relatives, and servants who had been brought under accusation.

He pointed out the snare by which the public mind, as well as the accused themselves, had been misled--the escape afforded to such as would confess.

When one spoke out, others followed.

When a reasonable explanation was afforded, ordinary people were only too thankful to seize upon it.

Though the prisons were filled, and the courts occupied over and over again, there were no more horrors; the accused were all acquitted; and in the following May, Sir William Phipps discharged all the prisoners by proclamation.

"Such a jail-delivery has never been known in New England," is the testimony handed down.

The Governor was aware that the clergy, magistrates, and judges, hitherto active, were full of wrath at his course but public opinion now demanded a reversal of the administration of the last fearful year.

THE PHYSIO-PSYCHOLOGICAL CAUSES OF THE TROUBLE.

As to the striking feature of the case--the confessions of so large a proportion of the accused--Mr. Upham manifests the perplexity which we encounter in almost all narrators of similar scenes.

In all countries and times in which trials for witchcraft have taken place, we find the historians dealing anxiously with the question--how it could happen that so many persons declared themselves guilty of an impossible offense, when the confession must seal their doom?

The solution most commonly offered is one that may apply to a case here and there, but certainly can not be accepted as disposing of any large number.

It is assumed that the victim preferred being killed at once to living on under suspicion, insult, and ill-will, under the imputation of having dealt with the Devil.

Probable as this may be in the case of a stout-hearted, reasoning, forecasting person possessed of nerve to carry out a policy of suicide, it can never be believed of any considerable proportion of the ordinary run of old men and women charged with sorcery.

The love of life and the horror of a cruel death at the hands of the mob or of the hangman are too strong to admit of a deliberate sacrifice so bold, on the part of terrified and distracted old people like the vast majority of the accused; while the few of a higher order, clearer in mind and stronger in nerve, would not be likely to effect their escape from an unhappy life by a lie of the utmost conceivable gravity.

If, in the Salem case, life was saved by confession toward the last, it was for a special reason; and it seems to be a singular instance of such a mode of escape.

Some other mode of explanation is needed; and the observations of modern inquiry supply it.

There can be no doubt now that the sufferers under nervous disturbances, the subjects of abnormal condition, found themselves in possession of strange faculties, and thought themselves able to do new and wonderful things.

When urged to explain how it was, they could only suppose, as so many of the Salem victims did, that it was by "some evil spirit;" and except where there was such an intervening agency as Mr. Parris' "circle," the only supposition was that the intercourse between the Evil Spirit and themselves was direct.

It is impossible even now to witness the curious phenomena of somnambulism and catalepsy without a keen sense of how natural and even inevitable it was for similar subjects of the Middle Ages and in Puritan times to believe themselves ensnared by Satan, and actually endowed with his gifts, and to confess their calamity, as the only relief to their scared and miserable minds.

This explanation seems not to have occurred to Mr. Upham; and, for want of it, he falls into great amazement at the elaborate artifice with which the sufferers invented their confessions, and adapted them to the state of mind of the authorities and the public.

With the right key in his hand, he would have seen only what was simple and natural where he now bids us marvel at the pitch of artfulness and skill attained by poor wretches scared out of their natural wits.

The spectacle of the ruin that was left is very melancholy.

Orphan children were dispersed; homes were shut up, and properties lost; and what the temper was in which these transactions left the churches and the village, and the society of the towns, the pastors and the flocks, the Lord's table, the social gathering, the justice hall, the market, and every place where men were wont to meet, we can conceive.

It was evidently long before anything like a reasonable and genial temper returned to society in and about Salem.

The acknowledgments of error made long after were half-hearted, and so were the expressions of grief and pity in regard to the intolerable woes of the victims.

It is scarcely intelligible how the admissions on behalf of the wronged should have been so reluctant, and the sympathy with the devoted love of their nearest and dearest so cold.

We must cite what Mr. Upham says in honor of these last, for such solace is needed: "While, in the course of our story, we have witnessed some shocking instances of the violation of the most sacred affections and obligations of life, in husbands and wives, parents and children, testifying against each other, and exerting themselves for mutual destruction, we must not overlook the many instances in which filial, parental, and fraternal fidelity and love have shone conspicuously.

It was dangerous to befriend an accused person.

Proctor stood by his wife to protect her, and it cost him his life.

Children protested against the treatment of their parents, and they were all thrown into prison.

Daniel Andrew, a citizen of high standing, who had been deputy to the General Court, asserted, in the boldest language, his belief of Rebecca Nurse's innocence; and he had to fly the country to save his life.

Many devoted sons and daughters clung to their parents, visited them in prison in defiance of a blood-thirsty mob; kept by their side on the way to execution; expressed their love, sympathy, and reverence to the last; and, by brave and perilous enterprise, got possession of their remains, and bore them back under the cover of midnight to their own thresholds, and to graves kept consecrated by their prayers and tears.

One noble young man is said to have effected his mother's escape from the jail, and secreted her in the woods until after the delusion had passed away, provided food and clothing for her, erected a wigwam for her shelter, and surrounded her with every comfort her situation would admit of.

The poor creature must, however, have endured a great amount of suffering; for one of her larger limbs was fractured in the all but desperate attempt to rescue her from the prison walls."

(Vol. ii.

p. 348. ) The act of reversal of attainder, passed early in the next century, tells us that "some of the principal accusers and witnesses in those dark and severe prosecutions have since discovered themselves to be persons of profligate and vicious conversation;" and on no other authority we are assured that, "not without spot before, they became afterward abandoned to open vice."

This was doubtless true of some; but of many it was not; and of this we shall have a word to say presently.

THE LAST OF PARRIS.

Mr. Parris' parsonage soon went to ruin, as did some of the dwellings of the "afflicted" children, who learned and practiced certain things in his house which he afterward pronounced to be arts of Satan, and declared to have been pursued without his knowledge and with the cognizance of only his servants (John and Tituba, the Indian and the negress).

Barn, and well, and garden disappeared in a sorry tract of rough ground, and the dwelling became a mere handful of broken bricks.

The narrative of the pastor's struggles and devices to retain his pulpit is very interesting; but they are not related to our object here; and all we need say is, that three sons and sons-in-law of Mrs. Nurse measured their strength against his, and, without having said an intemperate or superfluous word, or swerved from the strictest rules of congregational action, sent him out of the parish.

He finally opined that "evil angels" had been permitted to tempt him and his coadjutors on either hand; he admitted that some mistakes had been made; and, said he, "I do humbly own this day, before the Lord and his people, that God has been righteously spitting in my face; and I desire to lie low under all this reproach," etc. ; but the remonstrants could not again sit under his ministry, and his brethren in the Province did not pretend to exculpate him altogether.

He buried his wife--against whom no record remains--and departed with his children, the eldest of whom, the playfellow of the "afflicted" children, he had sent away before she had taken harm in the "circle."

He drifted from one small outlying congregation to another, neglected and poor, restless and untamed, though mortified, till he died in 1720. Mr. Noyes died somewhat earlier.

He is believed not to have undergone much change, as to either his views or his temper.

He was a kind-hearted and amiable man when nothing came in the way; but he could hold no terms with Satan; and in this he insisted to the last that he was right.

Cotton Mather was the survivor of the other two.

He died in 1728; and he never was happy again after that last batch of executions.

He trusted to his merits, and the genius he exhibited under that onslaught of Satan, to raise him to the highest post of clerical power in the Province, and to make him--what he desired above all else--President of Harvard University.

Mr. Upham presents us with a remarkable meditation written by the unhappy man, so simple and ingenious that it is scarcely possible to read it gravely; but the reader is not the less sensible of his misery.

The argument is a sort of remonstrance with God on the recompense his services have met with.

He has been appointed to serve the world, and the world does not regard him; the negroes, and (who could believe it?

) the negroes are named Cotton Mather in contempt of him; the wise and the unwise despise him; in every company he is avoided and left alone; the female sex, and they speak basely of him; his relatives, and they are such monsters that he may truly say, "I am a brother to dragons;" the Government, and it heaps indignities upon him;

the University, and if he were a blockhead, it could not treat him worse than it does.

He is to serve all whom he can aid, and nobody ever does anything for him; he is to serve all to whom he can be a helpful and happy minister, and yet he is the most afflicted minister in the country; and many consider his afflictions to be so many miscarriages, and his sufferings in proportion to his sins.

There was no popularity or power for him from the hour when he stood to see his brother Burroughs put to death on the Hill.

He seems never to have got over his surprise at his own failures; but he sank into deeper mortification and a more childish peevishness to the end.

"ONE OF THE AFFLICTED"--HER CONFESSION.

Of only one of the class of express accusers--of the "afflicted"--will we speak; but not because she was the only one reclaimed.

One bewildered child we have described as remorseful, and brave in her remorse; and others married as they would hardly have done if they had been among the "profligate."

Ann Putnam's case remains the most prominent, and the most pathetic.

She was twelve years old when the "circle" at Mr. Parris' was formed.

She had no check from her parents, but much countenance and encouragement from her morbidly-disposed mother.

She has the bad distinction of having been the last of the witnesses to declare a "vision" against a suspected person; but, on the other hand, she has the honor, such as it is, of having striven to humble herself before the memory of her victims.

When she was nineteen her father died, and her mother followed within a fortnight, leaving the poor girl, in bad health and with scanty means, to take care of a family of children so large that there were eight, if not more, dependent on her.

No doubt she was aided, and she did what she could; but she died worn out at the age of thirty-six.

Ten years before that date she made her peace with the Church and society by offering a public confession in the meeting-house.

In order to show what it was that the accusers did admit, we must make room for Ann Putnam's confession: "'I desire to be humbled before God for that sad and humbling providence that befell my father's family in the year about '92; that I, then being in my childhood, should, by such a providence of God, be made the instrument for the accusing of several persons of a grievous crime, whereby their lives were taken away from them, whom now I have just grounds and good reason to believe they were innocent persons; and that it was a great delusion of Satan that deceived me in that sad time, whereby I justly fear that I have been instrumental with others, though ignorantly and unwittingly, to bring upon myself and this land the guilt of innocent blood; though what was said or done by me against any person I can truly and uprightly say, before God and man, I did it not out of any anger, malice, or ill-will to any person, for I had no such thing against one of them; but what I did was ignorantly, being deluded by Satan.

And particularly, as I was a chief instrument of accusing Goodwife Nurse and her two sisters, I desire to lie in the dust, and to be humbled for it, in that I was a cause, with others, of so sad a calamity to them and their families; for which cause I desire to lie in the dust, and earnestly beg forgiveness of God, and from all those unto whom I have given just cause of sorrow and offense, whose relations were taken away or accused.

(Signed) Ann Putnam.'

"This confession was read before the congregation, together with her relation, August 25, 1706; and she acknowledged it.

"J. GREEN, _Pastor_."

(Vol. ii.

p. 510. ) THE TRANSITION.

The most agreeable picture ever afforded by this remarkable community is that which our eyes rest on at the close of the story.

One of the church members had refused to help to send Mr. Parris away, on the ground that the village had had four pastors, and had gone through worse strifes with every one; but he saw a change of scene on the advent of the fifth.

The Rev. Joseph Green was precisely the man for the place and occasion.

He was young--only two-and-twenty--and full of hope and cheerfulness, while sobered by the trials of the time.

He had a wife and infants, and some private property, so that he could at once plant down a happy home among his people, without any injurious dependence on them.

While exemplary in clerical duty, he encouraged an opposite tone of mind to that which had prevailed--put all the devils out of sight, promoted pigeon-shooting and fishing, and headed the young men in looking after hostile Indians.

Instead of being jealous at the uprising of new churches, he went to lay the foundations, and invited the new brethren to his home.

He promoted the claims of the sufferers impoverished by the recent social convulsion; he desired to bury not only delusions, but ill offices in silence; and by his hospitality he infused a cheerful social spirit into his stricken people.

The very business of "seating" the congregation was so managed under his ministry as that members of the sinning and suffering families--members not in too direct an antagonism--were brought together for prayer, singing, and Sabbath-greeting, forgiving and forgetting as far as possible.

Thus did this excellent pastor create a new scene of peace and good-will, which grew brighter for eighteen years, when he died at the age of forty.

At the earliest moment that was prudent, he induced his church to cancel the excommunication of Rebecca Nurse and Giles Corey.

It was ten years more before the hard and haughty mother church in Salem would do its part; but Mr. Green had the satisfaction of seeing that record also cleansed of its foul stains three years before his death.

Judge Sewall had before made his penitential acknowledgment of proud error in full assembly, and had resumed his seat on the bench amid the forgiveness and respect of society; Chief Justice Stoughton had retired from the courts in obstinate rage at his conflicts with Satan having been cut short;

the physicians hoped they should have no more patients "under the evil hand," to make them look foolish and feel helpless; and the Tragedy was over.

There were doubtless secret tears and groans, horrors of shame and remorse by night and by day, and indignant removal of the bones of the murdered from outcast graves; and abstraction of painful pages from books of record, and much stifling of any conversation which could grow into tradition.

The Tragedy was, no doubt, the central interest of society, families, and individuals throughout the Province for the life of one generation.

Then, as silence had been kept in the homes as well as at church and market, the next generation entered upon life almost unconscious of the ghastly distinction which would attach in history to Massachusetts in general, and Salem in particular, as the scene of the Delusion and the Tragedy which showed the New World to be in essentials no wiser than the Old.

How effectually the story of that year 1692 was buried in silence is shown by a remark of Mr. Upham's--that it has been too common for the Witch Tragedy to be made a jest of, or at least to be spoken of with levity.

We can have no doubt that his labors have put an end to this.

It is inconceivable that there can ever again be a joke heard on the subject of Witchcraft in Salem.

But this remark of our author brings us at once home to our own country, time, and experience.

It suggests the question whether the lesson afforded by this singular perfect piece of history is more or less appropriate to our own day and generation.

THE FETISH THEORY THEN AND NOW.

We have already observed that at the date of these events, the only possible explanation of the phenomena presented was the fetish solution which had in all ages been recurred to as a matter of course.

In heathen times it was god, goddess, or nymph who gave knowledge, or power, or gifts of healing, or of prophecy, to men.

In Christian times it was angel, or devil, or spirit of the dead; and this conception was in full force over all Christendom when the Puritan emigrants settled in New England.

The celebrated sermon of the Rev. Mr. Lawson, in the work before us, discloses the elaborate doctrine held by the class of men who were supposed to know best in regard to the powers given by Satan to his agents, and the evils with which he afflicted his victims; and there was not only no reason why the pastor's hearers should question his interpretations, but no possibility that they should supply any of a different kind.

The accused themselves, while unable to admit or conceive that they were themselves inspired by Satan, could propose no explanation but that the acts were done by "some bad spirit."

And such has been the fetish tendency to this hour, through all the advance that has been made in science, and in the arts of observation and of reasoning.

The fetish tendency--that of ascribing one's own consciousness to external objects, as when the dog takes a watch to be alive because it ticks, and when the savage thinks his god is angry because it thunders, and when the Puritan catechumen cries out in hysteria that Satan has set a witch to strangle her--that constant tendency to explain everything by the facts, the feelings, and the experience of the individual's own nature, is no nearer dying out now than at the time of the Salem Tragedy; and hence, in part, the seriousness and the instructiveness of this story to the present generation.

Ours is the generation which has seen the spread of Spiritualism in Europe and America, a phenomenon which deprives us of all right to treat the Salem Tragedy as a jest, or to adopt a tone of superiority in compassion for the agents in that dismal drama.

There are hundreds, even several thousands, of lunatics in the asylums of the United States, and not a few in our own country, who have been lodged there by the pursuit of intercourse with spirits; in other words, by ascribing to living but invisible external agents movements of their own minds.

Mr. Parris remarked, in 1692, that of old, witches were only ignorant old women; whereas, in his day, they had come to be persons of knowledge, holiness, and devotion who had been drawn into that damnation; and in our day, we hear remarks on the superior refinement of spirit-intercourses, in comparison with the witch doings at Salem;

but the cases are all essentially the same.

In all, some peculiar and inexplicable appearances occur, and are, as a matter of course, when their reality can not be denied, ascribed to spiritual agency.

We may believe that we could never act as the citizens of Salem acted in their superstition and their fear; and this may be true; but the course of speculation is, in "spiritual circles," very much the same as in Mr. Parris' parlor.

And how much less excuse there is for our generation than for his!

We are very far yet from being able to explain the well-known and indisputable facts which occur from time to time, in all countries where men abide and can give an account of themselves; such facts as the phenomena of natural somnambulism, of double consciousness, of suspended sensation while consciousness is awake, and the converse--of a wide range of intellectual and instinctive operations bearing the character of marvels to such as can not wait for the solution.

We are still far from being able to explain such mysteries, in the only true sense of the word _explaining_--that is, being able to refer the facts to the natural cause to which they belong; but we have an incalculable advantage over the people of former centuries in knowing that for all proved facts there is a natural cause; that every cause to which proved facts within our cognizance are related is destined to become known to us; and that, in the present case, we have learned in what direction to search for it, and have set out on the quest.

None of us can offer even the remotest conjecture as to what the law of the common action of what we call mind and body may be.

If we could, the discovery would have been already made.

But, instead of necessarily assuming, as the Salem people did, that what they witnessed was the operation of spiritual upon human beings, we have, as our field of observation and study, a region undreamed of by them--the brain as an organized part of the human frame, and the nervous system, implicating more facts, more secrets, and more marvels than our forefathers attributed to the whole body.

THE VIEWS OF MODERN INVESTIGATORS.

It is very striking to hear the modern lectures on physiological subjects delivered in every capital in Europe, and to compare the calm and easy manner in which the most astonishing and the most infernal phenomena are described and discussed, with the horror and dismay that the same facts would have created if disclosed by divines in churches three centuries ago.

Dr. Maudsley, in his recent work on "The Physiology and Pathology of Mind," and other physicians occupied in his line of practice, lead us through the lunatic asylums of every country, pointing out as ordinary or extraordinary incidents the same "afflictions" of children and other morbid persons which we read of, one after another, in the Salem story.

It is a matter of course with such practitioners and authors to anticipate such phenomena when they have detected the morbid conditions which generate them.

Mr. Upham himself is evidently very far indeed from understanding or suspecting how much light is thrown on the darkest part of his subject by physiological researches carried on to the hour when he laid down his pen.

His view is confined almost exclusively to the theory of fraud and falsehood, as affording the true key.

It is not probable that anybody disputes or doubts the existence of guilt and folly in many or all of the agents concerned.

There was an antecedent probability of both in regard to Mr. Parris' slaves, and to such of the young children as they most influenced; and that kind of infection is apt to spread.

Moreover, experience shows us that the special excitement of that nervous condition induces moral vagaries at least as powerfully as mental delusions.

In the state of temper existing among the inhabitants of the Village when the mischievous club of girls was formed at the pastor's house, it was inevitable that, if magic was entered upon at all, it would be malignant magic.

Whatever Mr. Upham has said in illustration of that aspect of the case his readers will readily agree to.

But there is a good deal more, even of the imperfect notices that remain after the abstraction and destruction of the records in the shame and anguish that ensued, which we, in our new dawn of science, can perceive to be an affair of the bodily organization.

We are, therefore, obliged to him for rescuing this tremendous chapter of history from oblivion, and for the security in which he has placed the materials of evidence.

In another generation the science of the human frame may have advanced far enough to elucidate some of the Salem mysteries, together with some obscure facts in all countries, which can not be denied, while as yet they can not be understood.

When that time comes, a fearful weight of imputation will be removed from the name and fame of many agents and sufferers who have been the subjects of strange maladies and strange faculties, in all times and countries.

As we are now taught the new discoveries of the several nerve-centers, and the powers which are appropriated to them;