The Salem Belle: A Tale of 1692

by Ebenezer Wheelwright

CHAPTER THIRTEENTH.

The news of Miss Lyford's arrest, and the disclosure of her real name, produced a deep sensation in the community. The victims of this delusion had been hitherto taken from the lower walks of life, and this first attack upon the high places of society, while it shocked the feelings of many, served to reconcile the populace to the action of the courts, as it indicated that no influence of wealth or standing would be allowed to protect the guilty from punishment. Such was the state of the public mind, that except among Mary's immediate friends, no effort was made, or contemplated, for her deliverance. The sin of witchcraft was of too deep a dye to be forgiven; and the common doctrine was, that religion itself must turn away from such deadly foes to God and man. When the warrant was served, she was immediately removed from her friends, and placed in the care of an officer, who was directed to furnish an upper room in his house for her reception, and to guard her with ceaseless vigilance. There was little occasion for this warning, for the officer, whose name was Harris, would have thought himself bound over to perdition, had he suffered any prisoner in charge for a crime so enormous, to escape. All access to Miss Lyford was forbidden, except to her brother and Mr. and Mrs. Ellerson, who, assured of her innocence, did not scruple to express to the officer the utmost indignation and horror, at the violence thus done to one of their own family.

It was scarcely possible to realize the change which the period of a single month had produced. The whole affair of Mary's arrest and confinement seemed so like a dream, that they could hardly persuade themselves of its reality. But in a short time they saw the full extent of her danger, and had little doubt her death would be demanded by the populace, and that the court, whatever might be its wishes, would not dare to refuse the victim. The kind of evidence which was then current and considered valid, was so completely interwoven with every feature of her case, that her guilt, in the public view, was already proved. In these circumstances, Mr. Ellerson and his lady forbore to excite the populace, by public denunciation; but in their own circle of high respectability and influence, they were loud in their demands for her release, and insisted that some sinister motive had betrayed her into the toils of the accuser.

Lyford had accompanied his sister to the jailer's room, where he provided every convenience which the rough and superstitious keeper would allow. For several days before her arrest, Mary had been prepared for the worst; and she calmly resigned herself into the hands of the law, to await an issue, which she from the first apprehended would be fatal. There was no visible emotion in her countenance, but a deep melancholy had fallen upon those lovely features, which in their mild and beautiful, yet pensive and solemn aspect, would have excited in any heart, not steeled by fanaticism, the liveliest interest and sympathy. No ray of light could penetrate the cloud that shaded her earthly hopes, and her spirit was now struggling to free itself from worldly ties, and to move in a calmer region, beyond this stormy and distracted world.

The next day after Mary's arrest, Lyford returned to Boston, to communicate the tidings to Walter, and prevent any rash or violent measure, to which his vehement temper might prompt him. No language can describe his feelings, when the facts were disclosed by Lyford; but the strong excitement of his mind was soon subdued by the calm remonstrances of his friend, who assured him that every thing depended on coolness and deliberation. Walter immediately laid upon himself the most severe restraints, and while he vowed to effect her deliverance, or perish in the attempt, he soon became so entirely the master of his own feelings, that no perceptible change was visible in his deportment. His first impulse was to proceed directly to Salem; but Lyford convinced him that such a step would be worse than useless, as he would not be permitted to see Mary, and it might throw serious obstacles in the way of her escape. It was therefore concluded he should remain at home, and that no interview with Mary should be attempted, but through the medium of her brother.

The trial of Miss Lyford took place about the middle of July. Several witnesses were examined, whose testimony was considered conclusive of her guilt. Clarissa, Mr. Ellerson's servant, testified to the strange influence she exerted over her, and even in court took care to exhibit one of those remarkable fits of agitation and nervous excitement, which were universally satisfactory to the judges. Another witness declared she had seen Miss Lyford walking alone in the neighborhood of the forest, and that mysterious voices were heard in the woods, and unearthly music, and she remembered and repeated some lines, which intimated that she had consented to become one of a band of spirits, on account of which, she was soon to be crowned queen of a new kingdom, and to receive an untold amount of riches. Other testimony of a similar character was produced, but Trellison took care not to appear in the case; he did not choose to involve himself in unnecessary difficulties, and was probably aware that revenge for his known disappointment might be assigned as a motive for his testimony, and thus defeat the great object he had in view.

Such was the nature and amount of the evidence, it was scarcely possible to expect an acquittal. The examination was indeed prolonged, beyond the usual time, perhaps with a view to give some notion of the lenity of the court; but when the case was given to the jury, they scarcely hesitated, and when the verdict was demanded, it was with a bolder voice than usual, that the foreman pronounced the fatal word, "Guilty!" There was a deep solemnity and silence in the thronged court room, though little sympathy was manifested for the unoffending and beautiful maiden, whose fate was now so certain. The public frenzy had sealed the fountains of compassion, and the judge soon after pronounced sentence of death, to be executed on the twentieth of the following August.

We have not yet spoken of the demeanor of Miss Lyford, during this fearful period. Suffice it to say, it was calm and dignified, worthy her illustrious descent, and adorned by every christian virtue. Her confidence was not in man; and though her ties to life were of the strongest character, she could contemplate death without dismay. The shock attending the trial and sentence was indeed great, but the gospel was present to her aid with its well-springs of consolation, its life of immortality, and 'its exceeding weight' of future and eternal glory. Her eye of faith looked beyond the tempests of that awful night, whose fearful horrors thickened over her, and beheld the rising day of celestial glory.