The late Dr Bentley of Salem, in his History of that town, published in the Historical Society’s Collections, observes, that ‘the scene was like a torrent, sudden, irresistible, and momentary. They who thought they saw the delusion, did not expose it, and they who were deluded were terrified into distraction. For a time no life was safe. On the trials, children below twelve years of age obtained a hearing before magistrates. Indians came and related their own knowledge of invisible beings. Tender females told every fright, but not one man of reputation ventured to offer a single report, or to oppose openly the overwhelming torrent. Nothing could be more ridiculous than a mere narrative of the evidence. It would be an affront to the sober world. The terror was so great, that at the hazard of life, they who were charged with guilt confessed it, and the confessions blinded the judges. The public clamors urged them on, and the novelty of the calamity deprived them of all ability to investigate its true causes, till nineteen innocent persons were made victims to the public credulity.’ ‘From March to August, 1692,’ says Dr Bentley, ‘was the most distressing time Salem ever knew; business was interrupted, the town deserted, terror was in every countenance, and distress in every heart. Every place was the subject of some direful tale, fear haunted every street, melancholy dwelt in silence in every place after the sun retired. The population was diminished, business could not, for some time, recover its former channels, and the innocent suffered with the guilty. But as soon as the judges ceased to condemn, the people ceased to accuse. Terror at the violence and the guilt of the proceedings, succeeded instantly to the conviction of blind zeal, and what every man had encouraged, all now professed to abhor. Every expression of sorrow was found in Salem. The church erased all the ignominy they had attached to the dead, by recording a most humble acknowledgment of their error. But a diminished population, the injury done to religion, and the distress of the aggrieved, were seen and felt with the greatest sorrow.’
I quote the following from Judge Story’s Centennial Discourse.
‘The whole of these proceedings exhibit melancholy proofs of the effects of superstition in darkening the mind, and steeling the heart against the dictates of humanity. Indeed nothing has ever been found more vindictive and cruel than fanaticism, acting under the influence of preternatural terror, and assuming to punish offences created by its own gloomy reveries. Under such circumstances it becomes itself the very demon whose agency it seeks to destroy. It loses sight of all the common principles of reason and evidence. It sees nothing around it but victims for sacrifice. It hears nothing but the voice of its own vengeance. It believes nothing but what is monstrous and incredible. It conjures up every phantom of superstition, and shapes it to the living form of its own passions and frenzies. In short, insanity could hardly devise more refinements in barbarity, or profligacy execute them with more malignant coolness. In the wretched butcheries of these times, (for so they in fact were,) in which law and reason were equally set at defiance, we have shocking instances of unnatural conduct. We find parents accusing their children, children their parents, and wives their husbands, of a crime, which must bring them to the scaffold. We find innocent persons, misled by the hope of pardon, or wrought up to frenzy by the pretended sufferings of others, freely accusing themselves of the same crime. We find gross perjury practised to procure condemnations, sometimes for self protection, and sometimes from utter recklessness of consequences. We find even religion itself made an instrument of vengeance. We find ministers of the gospel and judges of the land, stimulating the work of persecution, until at last in its progress its desolations reached their own firesides.’
There are not wanting, Hutchinson observes, those who are willing to suppose the accusers to have been under bodily disorders, which affected their imaginations. This is kind and charitable, but seems to be winking the truth out of sight. A little attention must force conviction, that the whole was a scene of fraud and imposture, commenced by young girls, who at first, perhaps, thought of nothing more than exciting an interest in their sufferings, and continued by adult persons, who were afraid of being accused themselves. Rather than confess their fraud, they permitted the lives of so many innocent persons to be sacrificed. None of the pretended afflicted were ever brought upon trial for their fraud; some of them proved profligate persons, abandoned to all vice, others passed their days in obscurity and contempt.
In December, 1696, there was a proclamation for a fast, in which there was this clause, ‘That God would shew us what we know not, and help us wherein we have done amiss, referring to the late tragedy raised among them by Satan and his instruments, through the awful judgment of God.’ On the day of the fast, at the South meeting-house in Boston, Judge Sewall, who had sat on the bench at the trials, delivered in a paper to be read publicly, and he stood up while it was reading. It expressed in a very humble manner, that he was apprehensive he might have fallen into some error in the trials at Salem, and praying that the guilt of such miscarriages may not be imputed either to the country in general, or to him or his family in particular, and asking forgiveness of God and man. The Chief Justice, Mr Stoughton, being informed of this action of one of his brethren, observed for himself, that when he sat in judgment, he had the fear of God before his eyes, and gave his opinion according to the best of his understanding; and although it might appear afterwards that he had been in an error, yet he saw no necessity of a public acknowledgment of it.
Twelve men who had served as jurors in court at Salem, in 1692, published a recantation of their sentiments, and an apology for their doings on the trials; stating that they were incapable of understanding, nor able to withstand the mysterious delusions of the powers of darkness, and the prince of the air, but for want of knowledge and information from others, took up such evidence against the accused as, on further consideration and better information, they justly fear they have been instrumental with others, though ignorantly and unwittingly, to bring upon themselves the guilt of innocent blood, &c. They express a deep sense of sorrow for their errors in acting on such evidence to the condemnation of persons, declaring with deep humility that they were deluded and mistaken, for which they are much distressed and disquieted in mind. They humbly beg forgiveness of God, and praying that they may be considered candidly and aright by the surviving sufferers, acknowledging themselves under the power of strong and general delusion. They again ask forgiveness of all whom they may have offended, declaring they would not do such things again for the whole world.
As this great calamity began in the house of Mr Parris, and he had been a witness and very zealous prosecutor of the supposed offenders, many of his church withdrew from his communion, and in April, 1693, they drew up articles against him. ‘They charge the said Parris of teaching such dangerous errors, and preaching such scandalous immoralities as ought to discharge any man, though ever so gifted otherwise, from the work of the ministry. Particularly, in his oath against the lives of several, wherein he swears, that the prisoners with their looks knock down those pretended sufferers. We humbly conceive, that he who swears to more than he is certain of, is equally guilty of perjury with him that swears to what is false.’
They were so settled in their aversion, that they continued their persecutions for three or four years; and in July, 1697, they presented a remonstrance to arbitration, in which they accuse him of ‘believing the devil’s accusations, and readily departing from all charity to persons, though of blameless and godly lives, upon such suggestions against them; his promoting such accusations, as also his partiality in stifling the accusations of some, and vigilantly promoting others. His applying to those who have a familiar spirit to know who afflicted the people; which we consider as an implicit denying the providence of God, which alone we believe can send afflictions, or cause devils to afflict the people. By these practices and principles, Mr Parris hath been the beginner and procurer of the sorest afflictions, not to this village only, but this whole country, that did ever befall them.’ Mr Parris did at length acknowledge his errors, but the people would not be satisfied till he was entirely dismissed.
At the period when the prosecutions for witchcraft were conducted at Salem, Sir William Phipps was governor of the Colony. He was a native of New England, of obscure origin, and very illiterate. His title and his affluence were acquired by fortuitous circumstances, not from any meritorious or honorable achievements. Mr Phipps had, by some means, obtained information that a Spanish ship loaded with gold and silver, had been wrecked on the coast of La Plata, many years before, and he resolved on a bold effort to possess himself of the booty. For the purpose of procuring assistance in the enterprise, he performed a voyage to England, where he obtained partners and associates, and from thence he proceeded to La Plata, in 1687. He was so fortunate as to discover the hulk, from which he recovered gold and silver to the amount of £300,000, his own share being £16,000. Having returned to England, and being introduced to men of rank and influence, he received from King James the Second, the honor of knighthood, and was commissioned as Governor of his native Colony. But, though a man of piety and integrity, he was not qualified to support the dignity of the office to which he had the honor of being promoted.
Sir William was a firm believer in witchcraft, and among the first acts of his authority, was an order for chaining the witches; stupidly believing that if the body was chained, the wicked spirit within could exert no power. But before the close of the tragedies, in which his excellency was so zealous an actor, his own wife, was by some of the complainants, accused of being a witch; but through favor to the governor’s lady, she escaped without chains or halter.