CHAPTER XXII.
The Reverend Master Parris Exorcises "Little Witch."
It will be remembered that Squire Hathorne had directed that Dulcibel'slittle horse should be handed over to the Reverend Master Parris, inorder that it might be brought into due subjection.
This had pleased Master Parris very much. In the first place he was of adecidedly acquisitive turn--as had been shown in his scheming to obtaina gift of the minister's house and orchard--and moreover, if he was ableto cast out the devil that evidently possessed this horse, and make it asober and docile riding animal, it would not only be the gain of a verypretty beast, but would prove that something of the power of casting outdevils, which had been given to the disciples of old, had come down untohim. In such a case, his fame probably would equal, if not surpass, thatof the great Boston ministers, Increase and Cotton Mather.
Goodman Buckley had brought down the little mare, the next morning afterthe examination. The mare would lead very well, if the person leadingher was on horseback--very badly, if he were not, except under peculiarcircumstances. She was safely housed in the minister's stable, and gazedat with mingled fear and admiration by the family and their immediateneighbors. Master Parris liked horses, had some knowledge of the rightway to handle them, and showed more wisdom in his treatment of thisrather perverse animal of Dulcibel's than he had ever manifested in hischurch difficulties.
He began by what he called a course of conciliation--to placate thedevil, as it were. How he could bring his conscience to allow of this, Iam not able to understand. But then the mare, if the devil were oncecast out, would be, on account of her rare beauty, a very valuableanimal. And so the minister, twice a day, made a point of going into thelittle passage, at the head of the stall, speaking kindly to the animal,and giving her a small lump of maple sugar.
Like most of her sex, Susannah--as Master Parris had renamed her,knowing the great importance of a good name--was very fond of sugar; andher first apparent aversion to the minister seemed gradually to changeinto a kind of tacit respect and toleration, under the influence of hisdaily medications. Finally, the wary animal would allow him to pat herneck without striking at him with one of her front feet, or trying tobite him; and even to stroke her glossy flanks without lunging at himwith her hind heels, in an exceedingly dangerous fashion.
But spiritual means also were not neglected. The meeting-house was verynear, and the mare was brought over regularly when there were religiousservices, and fastened in the near vicinity of the other more sober andorthodox horses, that she might learn how to behave and perhaps the evilspirit be thus induced to abandon one so constantly exposed to thedoubtless unpleasant sounds (to it) of psalm and prayer and sermon.
A horse is an imitative animal, and very susceptible toimpressions,--both of a material and a mental character--and I mustconfess that these proceedings of the minister's were very well adaptedto the object he had in view.
The minister also had gone farther--but of this no one at the time knewbut himself. He had gone into the stable on a certain evening, when hisservant John Indian was off on an errand; and had pronounced a prayerover the possessed animal winding up with an exorcism which ought tohave been sufficient to banish any reasonable devil, not only from themare, but from the neighborhood. As he concluded, what seemed to be ahuge creature, with outstretched wings, had buffeted him over the ears,and then disappeared through the open window of the stable. The creaturewas in the form of a big bat; but then it was well known that this wasone of the forms which evil spirits were most fond of assuming.
The minister therefore had strong reasons for supposing that the goodwork was now accomplished; and that he should find the mare hereafter aSusannah not only in name but in nature--a black lily, as it were. Butof course this could not be certainly told, unless some one shouldattempt to ride her; and he suggested it one day to John Indian. ButJohn Indian--unknown to anybody but himself--had already tried theexperiment; and after a fierce contest, was satisfied with his share ofthe glory. His answer was:--
"No, no, master--debbil hab no 'spect for Indian man. Master he goodman! gospel man! debbil 'fraid of him--him too much for debbil!"
This seemed very reasonable for a poor, untutored Indian. MistressParris, too, said that she was certain he could succeed if any onecould. The evil spirits would be careful how they conducted themselvestowards such a highly respected and godly minister as her reveredhusband. Several of her acquaintances, pious and orthodox goodwives ofthe village, said the same thing. Master Parris thought he was a verygood horseman besides; and began to take the same view. There was thehorse, and he was the man!
So one afternoon John Indian saddled and bridled the mare, and broughther up to the horse-block. Susannah had allowed herself to be saddledwithout the slightest manifestation of ill-humor; probably the idea ofstretching her limbs a little, was decidedly pleasant in view of thesmall amount of exercise she had taken lately.
But the wisest plan was not thought of. The minister's niece, AbigailWilliams--one of the "afflicted"--had looked upon the black mare withlonging eyes; and if she had made the experiment, it probably would havebeen successful. But they did not surmise that it might be the man'ssaddle and mode of riding, to which the animal was entirelyunaccustomed, that were at the bottom of the difficulty. And, besides,Master Parris wanted the mare for his own riding, not for the womenfolks of his household.
Detained by various matters, it was not until quite late in theafternoon, that the minister found time to try the experiment of ridingthe now unbewitched animal. It was getting too near night to ride veryfar, but he could at least try a short ride of a mile or so; whichperhaps would be better for the first attempt than a longer one. So hecame out to the horse-block, attended by his wife and Abigail Williams,and a couple of parishioners who had been holding a consultation withhim, but had stopped a moment to see him ride off upon the animal ofwhich so many marvelous stories had been told.
"Yes," said the minister, as he came out to the horse-block, in answerto a remark made by one of his visitors, "I think I have been able withthe Lord's help, to redeem this animal and make her a useful member ofsociety. You will observe that she now manifests none of thatviciousness for which formerly she was so noted."
The mare did stand as composedly and peacefully as the most dignifiedminister could desire.
"You will remember that she has never been ridden by any one, man orwoman, save her witch mistress Dulcibel--Jezebel, I think would be amore fitting name for her, considering her wicked doings."
Here Master Parris took the bridle rein from John Indian and threw hisright leg over the animal. As the foot and leg came down on that side,and the stirrup gave her a smart crack, the mare's ears, which had beenpricked up, went backwards and she began to prance around, John Indianstill holding her by the mouth.
"Let her go, John," said the minister; "she does not like to be held,"and he tightened the rein.
John, by his master's orders, had put on a curbbit; in place of theeasy snaffle to which the mare had always been accustomed. And now asthe minister tightened the rein, and the chain of the curb began topress upon and pain the mouth of the sensitive creature, she began toback and rear in a most excited fashion.
"Loose de rein!" cried John Indian.
The minister did so. But the animal now was fully alarmed; and noloosening or tightening would avail much. She was her old self again--asbewitched as ever. She reared, she plunged, she kicked, she sidled, andwent through all the motions, which, on previous occasions, she hadalways found eventually successful in ridding her back of its undesiredburden.
"Oh, do get off of the wild beast," cried Mistress Parris, in greatalarm.
"She is still bewitched," cried Abigail Williams. "I see a spectre now,tormenting her with a pitchfork."
"Oh, Samuel, you will be killed!--do get off that crazy beast!" againcried weeping Mistress Parris.
"'Get off!' yes!" thought the minister; "but how am I going to do it,with the beast plung
ing and tearing in this fashion?" The animalevidently wanted him off, and he was very anxious to get off; but shewould not hold still long enough for him to dismount peaceably.
"Hold her while I dismount!" he cried to John Indian. But when JohnIndian came near to take hold of the rein by her mouth, the mare snappedat him viciously with her teeth; and then wheeled around and flung outher heels at his head, in the most embarrassing manner.
Finally, as with a new idea, the mare started down the lane at a quickgallop, turned to the left, where a rivulet had been damned up into alittle pond not more than two feet deep, and plunged into the water,splashing it up around her like a many jetted fountain.
By this time, the minister, being only human, naturally was very angry;and commenced lashing her sides with his riding whip to get her into thelane again. This made the fiery little creature perfectly desperate, andshe reared up and backwards, until she came down plump into the water;so that, if the saddle girth had not broken, and the saddle come off,and the minister with it, she might have tumbled upon him and perhapsseriously hurt him. But, as it was, no great damage was done; and thebridle also breaking, the mare spit the bit out of her mouth, and wentdown the lane in a run to the road, and thence on into the nowfast-gathering night, no one could see whither.
Mistress Parris, John Indian and the rest were by this time at the sideof the pond, and ready to receive the chapfallen minister as he emergedwith the saddle and the broken bridle from the water.
"You are a sight, Samuel Parris!" said his wife, in that pleasant tonewith which many wives are apt to receive their liege lords upon suchunpleasant occasions. "Do get into the house at once. You will catchyour death of cold, I know. And such a mess your clothes will be! But Ionly wonder you are not killed--trying to ride a mad witch's horse likethat is."
The minister made no reply. The situation transcended words. And did notallow even of sympathy, as his visitors evidently thought--not at leastuntil he got on some clean and dry clothes. So they simply shook theirheads, and took their course homewards. While the bedraggled anddripping Master Parris made his way to the house wiping the water andmud from his face with his wife's handkerchief, and stopping to shakehimself well, before he entered the door, lest, as his wife said, "heshould spoil everything in his chamber."
Abigail Williams, when she went to see Mistress Ann Putnam that night,had a marvelous tale to tell; which in the course of the next day, wentlike wildfire through the village, growing still more and more marvelousas it went.
Abigail had seen, as I have already said, the spectre of a witch goadingthe furious animal with a pitchfork. When the horse tore down the lane,it came to the little brook and of course could not cross it--for awitch cannot cross running water. Therefore, in its new access of fury,it sprang into the pond--and threw off the minister. Abigail furtherdeclared that then, dashing down the lane it came to the gate which shutit off from the road, and took the gate in a flying leap. But the animalnever came down again. It was getting quite dark then, but she couldstill plainly see that a witch was upon its back, belaboring it with abroomstick. And she knew very well who that witch was. It was the"spectre" of Dulcibel Burton--for it had a scarlet bodice on, just suchas Dulcibel nearly always wore. They two--the mare and its rider--wentoff sailing up into the sky, and disappeared behind a black cloud. AndAbigail was almost certain that just as they reached the cloud, therewas a low rumbling like thunder.
It was noticeable that every time Abigail told this story, sheremembered something that she had not before thought of; until in thecourse of a week or two, there were very few stories in the "ArabianNights" that could surpass it in marvelousness.
As the mare had not returned to her old stable at Goodman Buckley's, andcould not be heard of in any other direction, Abigail's story began tocommend itself even to the older and cooler heads of the village. For ifthe elfish creature had not vanished in the black cloud, to the soundof thunder, where was she?
Joseph Putnam, and his household however held a different view of thesubject, but they wisely kept their own counsel; though they had many asly joke among themselves at the credulity of their neighbors. They knewthat a little while after dark, a strange noise had been heard at thebarn, and that one of the hired men going out, had found Dulcibel'shorse, without saddle or bridle, pawing at the door of the stable foradmission. As this was a place the animal had been in the habit ofcoming to, and where she was always well treated and even petted, it wasvery natural that she should fly here from her persecutors, as shedoubtless considered them.
Upon being told of it, and not knowing what had occurred Master Josephthought it most prudent not to put the animal into his stable, butordered the man to get half-a-peck of oats, and some hay, and take themare to a small cow-pen, in the woods in an out of the way place, whereshe might be for years, and no one outside his own people be any thewiser for it. The mare seemed quite docile, and was easily led, being incompany with the oats, of which a handful occasionally was given toher; and so, being watered at a stream near by and fed daily, she wasno doubt far more comfortable than she would have been in the blackcloud that Abigail Williams was perfectly ready to swear she had seenher enter and where though there might be plenty of water, oatsdoubtless were not often meet with.
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