The opposition to Mr. Bayley laid the train for all the disastrous and terrible scenes that followed. His wife was Mary Carr, of Salisbury. Her family, besides land in that town, owned the large island in the Merrimack, just above Newburyport, called still by their name, and occupied by their descendants to this day. Mrs. Bayley brought with her to the village a younger sister, Ann, who, when scarcely sixteen years of age,—on the 25th of November, 1678,—married Sergeant Thomas Putnam. The Carrs were evidently well-educated young women; and there is every indication that Ann was possessed of qualities which gave her much influence in private circles. Her husband was the eldest son of the richest man in the village, had the most powerful and extensive connections, was a member of the company of troopers, had been in the Narragansett fight, and, as his records show, was a well-educated person. Marriage with him brought his wife into the centre of the great Putnam family; and, her sister Bayley being the wife of the minister, a powerful combination was secured to his support. The opposition so obstinately made to his settlement, appearing to his friends, as it does to us, so unreasonable, if not perverse, engendered a very bitter resentment, which spread from house to house. Every thing served to aggravate it. The disregard, by the opposition, of the advice of the old church to agree to his ordination, and of the strong endorsement of him by the General Court; and the failure of either of those bodies to take the responsibility of proceeding to his ordination,—made the dissatisfaction and disappointment of his friends intense. His connection by marriage with such a wide-spread influence, and the harmony and happiness of social life, made his settlement so very desirable that his friends could not account for the resistance made to it. His amiable character, which had been shown to be proof against slander; and his domestic bereavements in the loss of his wife and three children,—made him dear to his friends. More than three to one earnestly, persistently, from year to year, begged that he might be ordained; but what was regarded as an unworthy faction was permitted to succeed in preventing it. All these things sunk deep into the heart of the wife of Sergeant Thomas Putnam. She was a woman of an excitable temperament, and, by her talents, zeal, and personal qualities, wrought all within her influence into the highest state of exasperation. This must be borne in mind when we reach the details of our story. It is the key to all that followed.
The friends of Bayley, while they yielded to his determination to withdraw from his disagreeable position, never relinquished the hope to get him back, but renewed a struggle to that end, whenever a vacancy occurred in the village ministry. With that object in view, they were unwise and unjust enough to cherish aversion to every one who succeeded him, and thus kept alive the fatal elements of division. But it is due to him to say, that he does not appear to have been at all responsible for the course of his friends. Although retaining his property in the village, and often residing there, there is no indication that he had a hand in subsequent proceedings, or was in the slightest degree connected with the troubles that afterwards arose. Arts were used to inveigle him into the witchcraft prosecutions: his resentments, if he had any, were invoked; but in vain. He resisted attempts, which were made with more effect upon one of his successors, to rouse his passions against parties accused. He kept himself free from the whole affair. His name nowhere appears as complainant, witness, or actor in any shape. He was, so far as the evidence goes, a peaceable, prudent, kind, and good man; and if the people of Salem Village had been wise enough, or been permitted, to settle him, the world might never have known that such a place existed.
George Burroughs, in November, 1680, was engaged to preach at Salem Village. He is supposed to have been born in Scituate; but his origin is as uncertain as his history was sad, and his end tragical. He was a graduate of Harvard College in the class of 1670. What little is known of him shows that he was a man of ability and integrity. Papers on file in the State House prove, that, in the district of Maine, where he lived and preached before and after his settlement at the village, he was regarded with confidence by his neighbors, and looked up to as a friend and counsellor. Certain incidents are related, which prove that he was self-denying, generous, and public-spirited, laboring in humility and with zeal in the midst of great privations, sharing the exposures of his people to Indian violence, and experiencing all the sufferings of an unprotected outpost. In 1676, while preaching at Casco,—now Portland,—the entire settlement was broken up by an Indian assault. Thirty-two of the inhabitants were killed or carried into captivity. Mr. Burroughs escaped to an island in the bay, from which he was rescued by timely aid from the mainland. He wrote an account of the catastrophe, communicated by Brian Pendleton to the Governor and Council at Boston. In 1683 he was again at Casco; and, again driven off by the Indians in 1690, transferred his labors to Wells. A grant of one hundred and fifty acres of land was made to him, included in the site of the present city of Portland. As population began to thicken near the spot, the town applied to him to relinquish a part of it, other lands to be given him in exchange. In their account of the transaction, they state, that, in answer to their application, Mr. Burroughs said they were welcome to it; that he freely gave it back, "not desiring any land anywhere else, nor any thing else in consideration thereof."
In a vote passed at a meeting of Salem Village parish, Feb. 10, 1681, it was agreed that Mr. Burroughs should receive £93. 6s. 8d. per annum for three years, and £60 per annum afterwards. I suppose that he had no money or property of any kind. The parsonage was out of repair; and the larger sum for the first three years, amounting to £100, in three instalments, was to be given him as an outfit in housekeeping. Immediately upon coming to the village to reside, he encountered the hostility of those persons who, as the special friends of Mr. Bayley, allowed their prejudices to be concentrated upon his innocent successor. The unhappy animosities arising from this source entirely demoralized the Society, and, besides making it otherwise very uncomfortable to a minister, led to a neglect and derangement of all financial affairs. In September, 1681, Mr. Burroughs's wife died, and he had to run in debt for her funeral expenses. Rates were not collected, and his salary was in arrears. In making the contract with the parish, he had taken care to add, at the end of the articles, these words, "All is to be understood so long as I have gospel encouragement." It is not improbable that there was a lack of sympathy between him and the ministers in this part of the country. He concluded that no benefit would accrue from calling a council to put things into order; and, as he was in despair of remedying the evils that had become fastened upon the village, he concluded to give up the idea of getting a settlement of his accounts, abandoned his claims altogether, and removed from the village.
At the April term of Court in Ipswich, 1683, a committee of the parish petitioned for relief, stating that Mr. Burroughs had left them, and that they had been without services in their meeting-house for four sabbaths. They pray the Court, that "they be pleased to write to Mr. Burroughs, requiring him to attend an orderly hearing and clearing up the case," and "to come to account" with them. The Court accordingly directed a meeting of the inhabitants to be held, and wrote to Mr. Burroughs to attend it. When the day came, the Court sent a letter to be read at the meeting, directing the parties to "reckon," and settle their accounts. What transpired at this curious meeting is best given by presenting the documents on file in a case that went into Court. They show the proceedings that interrupted the "reckoning" at the meeting in a most extraordinary manner:—
[County Court, June, 1683.—Lieutenant John Putnam versus Mr. George Burroughs. Action of debt for two gallons of Canary wine, and cloth, &c., bought of Mr. Gedney on John Putnam's account, for the funeral of Mrs. Burroughs.]
"Deposition.
"We, whose names are underwritten, testify and say, that at a public meeting of the people of Salem Farms, April 24, 1683, we heard a letter read, which letter was sent from the Court. After the said letter was read, Mr. Burroughs came in. After the said Burroughs had been a while in, he asked 'whether they took up with the advice of the Court, given in the letter, or whether they rejected it.' The moderator made answer, 'Yes, we take up with it;' and not a man contradicted it to any of our hearing. After this was passed, was a discourse of settling accounts between the said Burroughs and the inhabitants, and issuing things in peace, and parting in love, as they came together in love. Further, we say that the second, third, and fourth days of the following week were agreed upon by Mr. Burroughs and the people to be the days for every man to come in and to reckon with the said Burroughs; and so they adjourned the meeting to the last of the aforesaid three days, in the afternoon, then to make up the whole account in public.
"We further testify and say, that, May the second, 1683, Mr. Burroughs and the inhabitants met at the meeting-house to make up accounts in public, according to their agreement the meeting before; and, just as the said Burroughs began to give in his accounts, the marshal came in, and, after a while, went up to John Putnam, Sr., and whispered to him, and said Putnam said to him, 'You know what you have to do: do your office.' Then the marshal came to Mr. Burroughs, and said, 'Sir, I have a writing to read to you.' Then he read the attachment, and demanded goods. Mr. Burroughs answered, 'that he had no goods to show, and that he was now reckoning with the inhabitants, for we know not yet who is in debt, but there was his body.' As we were ready to go out of the meeting-house, Mr. Burroughs said, 'Well, what will you do with me?' Then the marshal went to John Putnam, Sr., and said to him, 'What shall I do?' The said Putnam replied, 'You know your business.' And then the said Putnam went to his brother, Thomas Putnam, and pulled him by the coat; and they went out of the house together, and presently came in again. Then said John Putnam, 'Marshal, take your prisoner, and have him up to the ordinary,—that is a public house,—and secure him till the morning.'
(Signed) "Nathaniel Ingersoll, aged about fifty.
Samuel Sibley, aged about twenty-four.