In 1692, a new case of witchcraft occurred in Salem village, now the town of Danvers. The minister of this place was Samuel Parris, between whom and a number of his people there had for some time existed dissensions of such a bitter nature that the attention of the general court had been directed to them. In February, 1692, the daughter and niece of Parris, the former a child of nine years, and the latter of less than twelve, gave signs of being bewitched. Parris at once recognized the opportunity which was thus offered him for vengeance upon his enemies, and deliberately availed himself of it. He demanded of the children the names of the persons who had bewitched them, and then proceeded to accuse those whom he succeeded in inducing the girls to denounce. The first victim was Rebecca Nurse. She was known in the community as a woman of exemplary Christian character; but she was one of the most resolute opponents of Parris. Upon his accusation she was arrested and imprisoned. The next Sunday Parris preached a sermon from the text, "Have I not chosen you twelve, and one of you is a devil." As his remarks were directed against Mistress Nurse, Sarah Cloyce, her sister, at once left the church.

A Hundred in Prison.

This in itself was a serious offence in those days, and Parris took advantage of it to accuse the offender of witchcraft, and she was sent to join her sister in prison. Mather, who deemed his credit at stake, lent his active aid to the persecution of these unfortunate people, and had the vanity to declare that he regarded the efforts of " the evil angels upon the country as a particular defiance unto himself." Parris scattered his accusations right and left, becoming both informer and witness against those whom he meant to destroy for their opposition to him.

In a few weeks nearly one hundred per

sons were in prison upon the charge of witchcraft. Abigail Williams, Parris's niece, aided her uncle with her tales, which the least examination would have shown to be absurd. George Burroughs, one of the ministers of Salem, had long been regarded by Parris as a rival, and he now openly expressed his disbelief in witchcraft, and his disapproval of the measures against those charged with that offence. This boldness sealed his doom. He was accused by Parris and committed to prison “with the rest of the witches." "The gallows was to be set up, not for those who professed themselves witches, but for those who rebuked the delusion."

Hanging a Witch.

Governor Bradstreet, who had been chosen by the people, was unwilling to proceed to extreme measures against the accused, as he had no faith in the evidence against them. The arrival of the royal governor and the new charter in Boston in May, 1692, placed Cotton Mather and his fellow-persecutors in a position to carry out their bloody designs. The general court alone had authority to appoint special courts, but Governor Phipps did not hesitate to appoint one himself for the trial of the accused persons at Salem, and this illegal tribunal, with Stoughton as its chief judge, met at Salem on the second of June. In this court Parris acted as prosecutor, keeping back some witnesses, and pushing others forward as suited his plans.

The first victim of the court was Bridget Bishop, "a poor, friendless old woman." Parris, who had examined her at the time of her commitment, was the principal witness against her. Deliverance Hobbs being also accused, a natural infirmity of her body was taken as a proof of her guilt, and she was hanged, protesting her innocence. Rebecca Nurse was at first acquitted of the

of the prisoner were regarded as a confession, and his remarkable bodily strength was made an evidence of his guilt. He was convicted and sentenced to be hanged. He was executed on the nineteenth of August with four others. As he ascended the scaffold, Burroughs made an appeal to the people assembled to witness the execution, and effectually vindicated himself from the absurd charges against him, and repeated the Lord's prayer, which was regarded as a test of innocence. The spectators seemed about to interfere in favor of the victim.

An Innocent Man Hanged.

Cotton Mather, who was present on horseback, now exerted himself to complete the judicial murder. He harangued the people, insisted on the guilt of Burroughs, reminding them that the devil could sometimes assume the form of an angel of light, and even descended to the falsehood of declaring that Burroughs was no true minister, as his ordination was not valid. His appeal was successful and the execution was completed.

Giles Cory, an old man over eighty years of age, seeing that no denial of guilt availed anything, refused to plead, and was pressed to death, in accordance with an old English law, long obsolete, which was revived to meet his case. Samuel Wardwell confessed his guilt, and escaped the gallows. Overcome with shame for his cowardice, he retracted his confession, and was hanged for denying witchcraft. A reign of terror prevailed in Salem; the prisons were full; and no one could feel sure how long he would escape accusation and arrest. Many persons "confessed their guilt to save their lives. Children accused their parents, parents their children, and husbands and wives each other of the most impossible offences, in the hope of escaping the persecution themselves. Hale, the minister of Beverley, was a zealous

4

advocate of the persecution until the bitter cup was presented to his own lips by the accusation of his wife. Many persons were obliged to fly the colony, and the magistrates, conscious that they were exceeding their powers, did not demand their surrender.

Crime Added to Crime.

We have mentioned only some of the principal cases to show the character of the persecution, as our limits forbid the relation of all. The total number hanged was twenty; fifty-five were tortured or terrified into confessions of guilt. The accusations were at first lodged against persons of humble station, but at length reached the higher classes. Governor Phipps' wife and two sons of Governor Bradford are said to have been among the accused. Insanity," says Judge Story, "could hardly devise more refinements in barbarity, or profligacy execute them with more malignant coolness." Every principle of English justice was violated to secure the condemnation of the accused, and people were encouraged by the magistrates to accuse others as a means of securing the favor of the authorities.

The

These terrible deeds were not the work of the people of Massachusetts, and under a popular government would have been impossible; for though the belief in witchcraft was general, the sentiment of the people was against the barbarity of the court. Salem tragedies were the work of a few men, not one of whom was responsible in any way to the people. "Of the magistrates at that time, not one held office by the suffrage of the people; the tribunal, essentially despotic in its origin, as in its character, had no sanction but an extraordinary and an illegal commission; and Stoughton, the chief judge, a partisan of Andros, had been rejected by the people of Massachusetts. The responsibility of the tragedy, far from attach

ing to the people of the colony, rests with the very few, hardly five or six, in whose hands the transition state of the government left for a season unlimited influence. Into the interior of the colony the delusion did not spread at all."*

Public Indignation.

Stoughton's court, having hanged twenty of its victims, adjourned about the last of September, 1692, until November, and on the eighteenth of October the general court met. The indignation of the people had been gathering force, and men were determined to put a stop to the judicial murders and tortures which had disgraced them so long. Remonstrances were at once presented to the assembly against "the doings of the witch tribunals," the people of Andover leading the way in this effort. The assembly abolished the special court, and established a tribunal by public law. It was ordered It was ordered that this court should not meet until the following January. The governor attempted The governor attempted to undo the work of the assembly by appointing Stoughton chief judge of the new

court.

When that tribunal met at Salem in January, 1693, it was evident that the public mind had undergone a marked change. The influence of the leaders of the delusion was at an end. The grand jury rejected the majority of the presentments offered to it, and when those who were indicted were put on trial, the jury brought in verdicts of acquittal in all but three cases. The governor, now alive to the force of public sentiment, reprieved all who were under sentence to the great disgust of Stoughton, who left the bench in a rage when informed of this action. The persecutors, anxious to cover their defeat by the execution of one more victim, employed all their arts to procure

* Bancroft's History of the United States, vol. iii., p. 88.

the conviction of a woman of Charlestown, who was commonly believed to be a witch. They supported their charge by more important evidence than had been presented in any case at Salem, but the jury at once returned a verdict of "not guilty."

Cotton Mather was intensely mortified by the failure of his efforts to force the people into a general acceptance of his views. He got up a case of witchcraft in Boston, but was careful to caution his possessed people to refrain from accusing any one of bewitching them. Robert Calef, an unlettered man, but one whose common sense could not be led astray by Mather, promptly exposed the imposture in a pamphlet, which effectually destroyed Mather's influence for harm. Mather, unable to reply to him, denounced him as an enemy of religion, and complained that Calef's book was "a libel upon the whole government and ministry of the land," forgetting that only seven or eight ministers, and no magistrate commanding the confidence of the people, had any share in the tragedies. Calef continued his writings, however, undismayed by the indignation of his adversary, and his book was finally pub. lished in England, where it attracted considerable attention.

The Danger Past,

The danger was now over. It was no longer possible to procure a conviction for witchcraft. The indignant people of Salem village at once drove the wretched Parris and his family from the place. Noyes, the minister of Salem, who had been active in the persecutions, was compelled to ask the forgiveness of the people, after a public confession of his error. The devotion of the rest of his life to works of charity won him the pardon he sought. Sewall, one of the judges, struck with horror at the part he had played in the persecution, made an open

and

frank confession of his error, and implored the forgiveness of his fellow-citizens. His sincerity was so evident that he soon regained the favor he had lost. Stoughton passed the remainder of his life in proud and haughty disregard of the opinion of his fellow-men, scorning to make any acknowledgment of error, and evincing no remorse for his cruelties.

Cotton Mather Duped.

As for the prime mover of the delusion, the Rev. Cotton Mather, nothing could induce him to admit that he could by any possibility have been in error; not even the recollection of the sorrow he had brought upon some of the best people in the colony could shake his impenetrable self-conceit or humble him. When it was plain to him that he was the object of the indignation of all good men in New England, he had the hardihood to endeavor to persuade them that after all he had not been specially active in the sad affair. "Was Cotton Mather honestly credulous?" asks Bancroft. "Ever ready to dupe himself, he limited his credulity only by the probable credulity of others. He changes,

or omits to repeat, his statements, without acknowledging error, and with a clear intention of conveying false impressions. He is an example how far selfishness, under the form of vanity and ambition, can blind the higher faculties, stupefy the judgment, and dupe consciousness itself. His self-righteousness was complete till he was resisted."

And yet this man was not to die without rendering to the country a genuine service. In 1721, having become satisfied that inoculation was a sure preventive of small-pox, he advocated the introduction of it into the colony. He was opposed by the whole body of the clergy, who declared that it was an attempt to defeat the plans of the Almighty, who "sent the small-pox as a punishment for sins, and whose vengeance would thus be only provoked the more." The people of the colony were also bitterly opposed to inoculation, and threatened to hang Mather if he did not cease his advocacy of it. His life was at one time in serious danger, but he persevered, and at length had the satisfaction of seeing the practice of inoculation generally adopted by the people who had so hotly opposed it.