The friends of Mary now sought from Gov. Phipps, through the kind offices of his lady, the executive clemency: but the faint hope they entertained of a pardon, soon died away in total despair. Sir William absolutely refused to interpose, and his purpose was strengthened by his knowledge of her name and descent, which were more odious to him, if possible, than her imputed witchcraft. But when it came to be announced that the young lady hitherto known as Miss Graham, was a relative of the venerated Goffe, a feeling of sympathy and pity was strongly and generally manifested; but its public exhibition was soon hushed by a sense of personal danger; every one was too deeply concerned for himself, to bestow much solicitude upon the fate of others.
Other methods were now adopted, and high rewards were offered in private, to bold and adventurous men, if they would procure her escape from prison: but no one could be found of sufficient courage to make the effort. Walter then attempted to bribe the jailer; but that resolute officer would not be tampered with. He was too much concerned for his own soul, he said, to suffer a witch to escape. He redoubled his vigilance; other sentinels were also placed on guard, and no access to Miss Lyford was permitted, except an occasional visit from James, who now spent all his time at Salem; and even this boon was with great difficulty obtained.
On these occasions, James bore to his sister the most affecting memorials of Walter's continued love, and assured her of his belief that some way of escape would yet open, and that all his time and thoughts were employed in devising plans for her deliverance. Mary, however, placed little reliance on such deceitful grounds of hope, and remitted nothing of her endeavors to prepare for the awful scene that awaited her. It was indeed grateful to see such proofs of Walter's affection, in the midst of all the obloquy which had clouded her name, and made her the reproach and scorn of the community; but her ties to earth were loosening, the glorious visions of the heavenly rest absorbed her mind, and she looked beyond the troubled stream she must soon cross, to a land of undecaying beauty and eternal repose.
All the efforts of James and Walter were warmly seconded by the Ellersons; and in their frequent conversations, every suggestion that prudence could make, was carefully balanced and weighed. But it was reserved for the fertile invention of Strale, to devise the only expedient which seemed to offer the least chance of success; and though this was confessedly romantic and extremely difficult to manage, it was resolved to make the trial.
Near the house of Mr. Harris, who had charge of Miss Lyford, there was a small cottage, occupied by a poor but honest laborer, named William Somers. This man was an ardent admirer of Gen. Goffe, and had once seen and conversed with him at his retreat in Hadley. Moreover, he was a sturdy Puritan, and in high reputation for honesty and piety: no one ever questioned his integrity, and he was the last person to be suspected of any plot against the peace of the community, Somers was just the man for the present emergency; and as soon as Miss Lyford's name was publicly disclosed, he went to Mr. Ellerson, and volunteered his services in any proper measures for her release, assuring him he might rely on his fidelity. There was little need of this assurance, for Somers was never known to break his word or slight his engagements. The location of Somers' cottage was very favorable, and in fact essential to the success of the plan, as no other house near that of Harris could possibly be obtained. His offer of assistance was therefore gratefully accepted, and he was at once admitted to the councils of Mary's friends. The progress of our narrative will develope the means that were employed, and the consequences that followed.
The policy now to be adopted, required that Walter should no longer keep up his relations to Miss Lyford, and that he should so far acquiesce in the public feeling, as to offer no vindication, or even suggest a wish in her behalf. It was no easy task to pursue this line of conduct; but as it did not require a positive disavowal of his engagement, he felt justified in assuming such a degree of indifference to her fate, as might be necessary for the successful prosecution of his designs.
Among Mary's friends in Boston, there were very few who did not follow the fashion of the world, in deserting the unfortunate, and leaving them to struggle alone in their wretchedness, without sympathy or consolation. Miss Hallam, Mary's earliest and most intimate friend, was one of the first to forsake her. In fact, this young lady was never pleased with the attentions which were so liberally bestowed on Miss Lyford, and it was more than suspected that her own attachment to Strale, reconciled her to the impending fate of her friend. She saw, with scarcely disguised pleasure, that Walter seemed to regard Mary with little interest, and as he was now a frequent visiter at her father's, she began to hope his affections were already enlisted in her behalf. There were some, however, whose feelings and conduct were far different. Among these, Miss Elliott was deeply affected at the situation of her friend, and did not hesitate to condemn the proceedings, as in the highest degree cruel and unjust. She made repeated visits to Mr. Willard, in the hope that he might do something in her behalf; and the benevolent clergyman employed all the power he possessed in her favor. She made the same application to Cotton Mather, but the stern fanaticism of this man was proof against all her entreaties. He declared he had no malice, and nothing but kindness towards Miss Lyford in his heart; but he solemnly believed in the allegations against her, and that God and man required the sacrifice. The proof he said was clear, and an exception in her favor would be cruelty to the community and treachery to his divine Master. All he could do was to pray, that notwithstanding her sorceries, she might, if possible, be forgiven, and he would not refuse her the tribute of a tear. Such were the feelings of this remarkable man, and such the power of superstition over his vigorous but ill governed mind. He was not naturally cruel, but in whatever devious course his perverted sense of duty impelled him, no consideration of reason or humanity could bring him back.
Mean-while the days glided on, and the period was at hand when the fatal sentence of the law was to be executed. The nineteenth of August had been assigned for the death of Burroughs and three of his associates, who had been condemned on the same grounds. One female also had been selected, to complete the sacrifice. For these unhappy individuals there was no hope of escape; the public voice had condemned them, as well as the iniquitous court before which they were tried; and they prepared, with christian resignation, for the doom which could not be averted. Miss Lyford's sentence had been assigned one day later, as the case was deemed one of solemn and peculiar interest; and moreover it was the policy of the court to impress the public mind with the enormity of the crime of witchcraft, by repeating the tragedy in its most awful and startling forms. The only hope that remained for Mary, was in those secret movements of her friends, which, in their complicated and delicate machinery, might be frustrated by the severance of a single cord. Her brother had acquainted her with the outlines of the plan, but she had little faith in a prospect which seemed so visionary and hopeless. Neither had Lyford any great confidence in its success, and every day had meditated some new expedient to accomplish her deliverance—but it was all in vain. No other hope appeared; and when the eighteenth of August had arrived, Mary was still in the custody of Harris, and that vigilant officer and his three assistants, were the sleepless sentinels at their post of dishonor and shame.