by Howard Pyle
The Reverend Master Burroughs, when upon the ladder, addressing the crowd, asserted earnestly his entire innocence. Such was the effect of his words that Master Raymond even hoped that an effort would be made to rescue him. But one of the “afflicted girls” cried out, “See! there stands the black man in the air at his side.”
Then another said, “The black man is telling him what to say.”
But Master Burroughs answered: “Then I will repeat the Lord’s prayer. Would the Devil tell me to say that?”
But when he had ended, Master Cotton Mather, who was riding around on his horse, said to the people that “the Devil often transformed himself into an angel of light; and that Master Burroughs was not a rightly ordained minister;” and the executioner at a sign from the official, cut the matter short by turning off the condemned man.
Rebecca Nurse and the other women, with the exception of their last short prayers, said nothing — submitting quietly and composedly to their legal murder. And before the close of one short hour eight lifeless bodies hung dangling beneath the summer sun.
Joseph Putnam and Master Raymond, and a few others upon whom the solemn words of the condemned had made an evident impression, turned away from the sad sight, and wiped their tearful eyes. But Master Parris and Master Noyes, and Master Cotton Mather seemed rather exultant than otherwise; though Master Noyes did say; “What a sad thing it is to see eight firebrands of hell hanging there!” But, as Master Cotton Mather more consistently answered: “Why should godly ministers be sad to see the firebrands of hell in the burning.”
Then, as the hours went on, the bodies were cut down, and stuck into short and shallow graves, dug out with difficulty between the rocks — in some instances, the ground not covering them entirely. There some remained without further attention; but, in the case of others, whose relatives were still true to them, there came loving hands by night, and bore the remains away to find a secret sepulcher, where none could molest them.
But the gallows remained on the Hill, where it could be seen from a great distance; causing a thrill of wonder in the bosom of the wandering savage, as of the wandering sailor, gazing at its skeleton outline against the sunset sky from far out at sea — waiting for ten more victims!
CHAPTER XXXI.
A New Plan of Escape.
About this time a new plan of escape was suggested to Master Raymond; coming to him in a note from Dulcibel.
Master Philip English, one of the wealthiest inhabitants of Salem town, and his wife Mary, had been arrested — the latter a short time previous to her husband. He was a merchant managing a large business, owning fourteen houses in the town, a wharf, and twenty-one vessels. He had one of the best dwellings in Salem — situated at its eastern end, and having a fine outlook over the adjacent seas. He had probably offended some one in his business transactions; or, supposing that he was safely entrenched in his wealth and high social position, he might have expressed some decided opinions, relative to Mistress Ann Putnam and the “afflicted children.”
As for his wife, she was a lady of exalted character who had been an only child and had inherited a large property from her father. The deputy-marshall, Manning, came to arrest her in the night time, during her husband’s absence. She had retired to her bed; but he was admitted to her chamber, where he read the warrant for her apprehension. He allowed her till morning, however, placing guards around the house that she might not escape. Knowing that such an accusation generally meant conviction and death, “she arose calmly in the morning, attended the family prayers, spoke to a near relative of the best plan for the education of her children, kissed them with great composure, amid their agony of cries and tears, and then told the officer that she was ready to die.”
On her examination the usual scene ensued, and the usual falsehoods were told. Perhaps the “afflicted girls” were a little more bitter than they would have been, had she not laughed outright at a portion of their testimony. She was a very nice person in her habits, and it was testified against her, that being out one day in the streets of Salem walking around on visits to her friends during a whole morning, notwithstanding the streets were exceedingly sloppy and muddy, it could not be perceived that her shoes and white stockings were soiled in the least. As we have said, at this singular proof of her being a witch, the intelligent lady had laughed outright. And this of course brought out the additional statement, that she had been carried along on the back of an invisible “familiar” — a spectral blue boar — the whole way. Of course this was sufficient, and she was committed for trial.
And now wealthy Master Philip English and his wife were both in prison; and he daily concocting plans by which he might find himself on the deck of the fastest sailer of all those twenty-one vessels of his.
Uncle Robie had thought this might be also a good opportunity for Dulcibel. And it struck Master Raymond the same way; while Master English had no objection, especially as it was mainly for Dulcibel that the jailer would open the prison doors. And this was better than the violence he had at first contemplated; for, as his vessels gradually began to accumulate in port, owing to the interruption to his business caused by his arrest, he had only to give the word, and a party of his sailors would have broken open the prison some dark night, and released him from captivity.
The “Albatross,” Master English’s fastest sailer at length came into port; and the arrangements were speedily made. The first north-westerly wind, whether the night were clear or stormy — though of course with such a wind it would probably be clear — the attempt was to be made, immediately after midnight. Uncle Robie was to unlock the jail-doors, let them out, lock the doors again behind them, and have a plentiful supply of witch stories to account for the escape. And Master Raymond had some hopes also, that Abigail Williams would come to the jailer’s support in anything that seemed to compromise him in the least; for he had promised to send her a beautiful gift from England, when he returned home again. And with such a sharpener to the vision, the precocious child would be able to see even more wonderful things than any she had already testified to.
The favorable wind came at length, and with it an exceedingly propitious night; there being a moon just large enough to enable them to see their way, with not enough light to disclose anything sharply. Master Raymond had planned all along to take Dulcibel’s horse also with them; and if he could ride the animal, it would obviate the necessity of taking another horse also, and being plagued what to do with it when they arrived at the prison. For he was very desirous that Master Putnam should not be in the least involved in the matter.
Master Raymond therefore had been practising up in the woods for about a week, at what the minister had failed so deplorably in, the riding of the little black mare. At first he could absolutely do nothing with her; she would not be ridden by any male biped. But finally he adopted a suggestion of quick-witted Mistress Putnam. He put on a side saddle and a skirt, and rode the animal woman fashion — and all without the least difficulty. The little mare seeming to say by her behavior, “Ah, now, that is sensible. Why did you not do it before?”
So, late on the evening appointed for the attempted escape, after taking an affectionate leave of his host and hostess, and putting a few necessary articles of apparel into a portmanteau strapped behind the saddle, Master Raymond started for Salem town.
Leaving the village to the right, he made good time to the town, meeting no one at that late hour. He had covered the mare with a large horse-blanket, so that she should not easily be recognized by any one who might happen to meet them. There was a night watchman in Salem town; but a party of sailors had undertaken to get him off the principal street at the appointed hour, by the offer of refreshments at one of their haunts; and by this time he was too full of Jamaica spirits to walk very steadily or see very clearly.
Arrived at the prison, Master Raymond found the Captain and mate of the “Albatross” impatiently awaiting him. It was not full time yet, but they concluded to give the signal, three hoots
of an owl; which the mate gave with great force and precision. Still all seemed dark and quiet as before.
Then they waited, walking up and down to keep the blood in their veins in motion, as the nights were a little cool.
“It is full time now,” said the Captain, “give the signal again, Brady.”
Brady gave it — if anything with greater force and precision than before.
But not a sign from within.
Had the jailer’s courage given away at the last moment? Or could he have betrayed them? They paced up and down for an hour longer. It was evident that, for some reason or other, the plan had miscarried.
“Well, there is no use awaiting here,” exclaimed the Captain of the “Albatross” with an oath; “I am going back to the ship.”
Master Raymond acquiesced. There was no use in waiting longer. And so he re-donned his petticoat — much to the amusement of the seamen and started back to Master Putnam’s arriving there in the darkest hours of the night, just before the breaking of the day.
CHAPTER XXXII.
Why the Plan Failed.
The reason of the failure of the plan of escape may be gathered from a little conversation that took place between Squire Hathorne and Thomas Putnam the morning of the day fixed upon by Master Philip English.
Thomas Putnam had called to see the magistrate at the suggestion of that not very admirable but certainly very sharp-witted wife of his. I do not suppose that Thomas Putnam was at all a bad man, but it is a lamentable sight to see, as we so often do, a good kind honest-hearted man made a mere tool of by some keen-witted and unscrupulous woman; in whose goodness he believes, in a kind of small-minded and yet not altogether ignoble spirit of devotion, mainly because she is a woman. Being a woman, she cannot be, as he foolishly supposes, the shallow-hearted, mischievous being that she really is.
“Do you know, Squire, how Master English’s sailors are talking around the wharves?”
“No! What are the rascals saying?”
“Well, Mistress Putnam has been told by a friend of hers in the town, that he heard a half-drunken sailor, belonging to one of Master English’s vessels, say that they meant to tear down the jail some night, hang the jailers, and carry off their Master and Mistress.”
“Ah,” said the Squire, “this must be looked into.”
“Another of the sailors is reported to have said, that if the magistrates attempted to hang Mistress English they would hang Squire Hathorne, and Squire Gedney, if they could catch him, by the side of her.”
“The impudent varlets!” exclaimed Squire Hathorne, his wine-red face growing redder. “Master English shall sweat for this. How many of his sailors are in port now?”
“Oh, I suppose there are fifty of them; and all reckless, unprincipled men. To my certain knowledge, there is not a member of church among them.”
“The godless knaves!” cried the magistrate. “I should like to set the whole lot of them in the stocks, and then whip them out of the town at the cart’s tail.”
“Yes, that is what they deserve, but then we cannot forget that they are necessary to the interests of the town — unless Salem is to give up all her shipping business — and these sailors are so clannish that if you strike one of them, you strike all. No, it seems to me, Squire, we had better take no public notice of their vaporing; but simply adopt means to counteract any plans they may be laying.”
“Well, what would you suggest, Master Putnam? Has Mistress Putnam any ideas upon the subject? I have always found her a very sensible woman.”
“Yes, my wife is a very remarkable woman if I do say it,” replied Master Putnam. “Her plan is to send Master English and his wife off at once to Boston — that will save us all further trouble with them and their sailors.”
“A capital idea! It shall be carried out this very day,” said the magistrate.
“And she also suggests that the young witch woman, Dulcibel Burton, should be sent with them. That friend of my brother Joseph, is still staying around here; and Mistress Putnam does not exactly comprehend his motives for so long a visit.”
“Ah, indeed — what motive has he?” And Squire Hathorne rubbed his broad forehead.
“There was some talk at one time of his keeping company with Mistress Burton.”
“What, the witch! that is too bad. For he seems like a rather pleasant young gentleman; and I hear he is the heir of a large estate in the old country.”
“Of course there may be nothing in it — but Mistress Putnam also heard from one of her female cronies the other day, that jailer Foster was at one time a mate on board Captain Burton’s vessel.”
“Ah!”
“And you know how very handsome that Mistress Dulcibel is; and, being besides a witch of great power, it seems to Mistress Putnam that it is exposing jailer Foster to very great temptation.”
“Mistress Putnam is quite correct,” said Squire Hathorne. “Mistress Dulcibel had better be transferred to Boston also. There the worshipful Master Haughton has the power and the will to see that all these imps of Satan are kept safely.”
“As the seamen may be lying around and make a disturbance if the removal comes to their knowledge, Mistress Putnam suggested that it had better not be done until evening. It would be a night ride; but then, as Mistress Putnam said, witches rather preferred to make their journeys in the night time — so that it would be a positive kindness to the prisoners.”
“Very true! very well thought of!” replied Squire Hathorne, with a grim smile. “And no doubt they will be very thankful that we furnish them with horses instead of broomsticks. Though as for Mistress Dulcibel, I suppose she would prefer her familiar, the black mare, to any other animal.”
“That was very marvelous. Abigail Williams says that she is certain that the mare, after jumping the gate, never came down to earth again, but flew straight on up into the thundercloud.”
“And it thundered when the black beast entered the cloud, did it not?” said the magistrate in a sobered tone. He evidently saw nothing unreasonable in the story.
“Yes — it thundered — but not the common kind of thunder — it was enough to make your flesh creep. The minister says he is only too thankful that the Satanic beast did throw him off. He might have been carried off to hell with her.”
“Yes, it was a very foolish thing to get on the back of a witch’s familiar,” said the magistrate. “It was tempting Providence. And Master Parris has cause for thankfulness that only such a mild reproof as a slight wetting, was allowed to be inflicted upon him. These are perilous times, Master Putnam. Satan is truly going about like a roaring lion, seeking what he may devour. Against this chosen seed, — this little remnant of God’s people left upon the whole earth — no wonder that he is tearing and raging.”
“Ah me, my Christian friend, it is too true! And no wonder that he is so bold, and full of joyful subtlety. For is he not prevailing, in spite of all our efforts? You know there are at least four hundred members of what rightly calls itself the Church of England — for certainly it is not the church of Christ — in Boston alone! When the royal Governor made the town authorities give up the South Church — even our own Church, built with our own money — to their so-called Rector to hold their idolatrous services in, we might have known that Satan was at our doors!”
“Oh, that such horrible things should happen in the godly town of Boston!” responded Squire Hathorne. “But when the King interfered between Justice and the Quakers, and forbade the righteous discipline we were exercising upon them, of course a door was opened for all other latitudinarianism and false doctrine. Why, I am told that there are now quite a number of Quakers in Boston; and that they even had the assurance to apply to the magistrates the other day, for permission to erect a meeting-house!”
“Impossible!” exclaimed Master Putnam. “They ought to have been whipped out of their presence.”
“Yes,” continued the worthy Magistrate irefully; “but when the King ordered that the right of voting for our ruler
s should no longer be restricted to church-members; but that every man of fair estate and good moral character, as he phrases it, should be allowed to vote, even if he is not a member at all, he aimed a blow at the very Magistracy itself.”
“Yes, that is worse than heresy! And how can a man possess a good moral character, without being a member of the true church?”
“Of course — that is self-evident. But it shows how the righteous seed is being over-flooded with iniquity, even in its last chosen house; how our Canaan is being given up to the Philistines. And therefore it is, doubtless, that Satan, in the pride of his success, is introducing his emissaries into the very house of the Lord itself; and promising great rewards to them who will bow down and sign their names in his red book, and worship him. Ah! we have fallen on evil times, Master Putnam.”
And so the two worthy Puritans condoled with each other, until, Master Putnam, bethinking himself that he had some worldly business to attend to, Squire Hathorne proceeded to give the necessary directions for the removal of the three prisoners from Salem to Boston jail.
This was accomplished that very night, as Mistress Putnam had suggested; Deputy Marshall Herrick and a constable guarding the party. Dulcibel occupied a pillion behind jailer Foster; Master English and his wife rode together; while Master Herrick and the constable each had a horse to himself.
The original plan was for Dulcibel to ride behind Master Herrick; but upon jailer Foster representing that there might be some danger of a rescue, and offering to join the party, it was arranged that he should have special charge of Mistress Dulcibel, whom he represented to Herrick as being in his opinion a most marvelous witch.
Uncle Robie’s true reason for going, however, was that the jailer in Boston was an old friend of his, and he wished to speak a secret word to him that might insure Dulcibel kinder treatment than was usually given in Boston jail to any alleged transgressor.
