Historic Events of Colonial Days

by Rupert Sargent Holland

When Mr. Hamlin told what he had learned of Jonathan Leek's leaving Boston the man in black squirmed in his seat, and grew so yellow of face that Mat whispered to Joe, "He looks like a witch himself now, doesn't he?" There wasn't much left of the stranger's character when Mr. Hamlin had finished with him, and even those people who had believed most implicitly in him began to murmur their doubts to each other.

Then came the chance for Mat to tell what he knew of Mistress Swan and Master Appleton. He told how the other children in school had never liked the three "afflicted children." "Those three liked to hurt animals," said he. "They stoned cats and dogs, they caught young birds, and hurt them, and when Master Appleton told them not to be so cruel they made faces at him and told false stories about him behind his back. Sometimes he would rescue birds and dogs from them, and try to mend their hurts, and he has a lot of dogs now in a shed back of Mistress Swan's house, poor dogs that nobody else would look after, and most of them he's cured of some hurt. None of us boys in school would believe a word those three others would say, least of all about Master Appleton, and we'd all expect them to say ill things about him whenever they got the chance." Mat said more about the schoolmaster, and Joe followed him, and then other children, and they were all so evidently sincere, and showed such affection for the teacher that people began to look more kindly at him, and to whisper that they'd always heard he was popular at school. "Against the word of one boy and two girls, who had their own reasons for disliking this master, we have the witness of these other children, who all respect and admire him," said the lawyer. "True it is that he has an almshouse for maimed and neglected animals in his yard, but should that not rather speak to his credit than against his honesty? He may know more than most of us about curing sores and broken bones; but would you accuse a physician of dealing in witchcraft or evil arts because he helped the suffering who came to him? If you would, then there must be evil in all men who help their neighbors!"

Here Jacob Titus, standing in the back of the court room, murmured behind his hand to the man next him, "I always had my doubts of those who deal in herbs and such like. There's something magical in the best of it. And when it's a matter of dogs, why——" he shrugged his shoulders, meaning clearly enough that that was carrying magic pretty far.

There were others who thought as the blacksmith did, for many, having once got the notion that Mistress Swan and Master Appleton were witches, couldn't find any way to get that idea out of their heads. Others were wavering in their opinions, however, and thinking that there might perhaps be as much truth in the words of this woman whom they had always known and this schoolmaster of such former good repute as in the words of three spoiled children and a man who had been driven out of Boston for misdeeds.

"There may be witches," the lawyer said, "though it happens that I've never met with any such myself. There are rumors of witchcraft all through this province of Massachusetts to-day, and many stories are told that could scarcely be understood as following the course of nature. But if we let ourselves suspect such evil things of our neighbors so readily, who knows when others may suspect such dealings of us as easily? You," he said, and by chance he was looking at a stout man in front of him, "may be accused to-morrow because your neighbor's cow sickened on the day you helped him harvest his crops. You," he looked at a forbidding-featured woman in a great gray bonnet, "may be called a witch next week because your suet puddings were too rich for the stomach of your maid. Or you," and his glance fell on a minister, who sat with a Bible clasped in his hand, "may be charged with dealings with the Evil One because your chimney smoked and the sparks frightened a horse upon the road so that he ran away. This is how such easy suspicions go. Within a month we may all be witches and warlocks, each man and woman accusing their nearest neighbors."

A murmur of protest rose; the idea was not to be put up with; and yet every one there knew that there was much truth in the speaker's words.

"It happens that three children and a man from Boston have hit upon these two prisoners as their victims," went on the speaker, now looking at the judges, "instead of aiming their shafts at you or me. Yet are you or I any more honest than this woman who has befriended others, or this man who teaches and cares for maimed dogs? Are we to be their judges? Then, as we consider the charges against them, let us remember that men might bring charges of evil against us also, and consider whether we know ourselves to be more innocent than they. Look at Mistress Swan! Look at Thomas Appleton! Are these two witches? Why, men of Salem, the very children laugh at such a charge!"

The speaker sat down amid a tense silence. The judges withdrew, considered the matter in private, and then, returning, announced that in their opinion the charges of witchcraft against Mistress Swan and Master Appleton had not been proved by the evidence, and that the two prisoners might return to their homes. There was a buzz of excited talk for a few minutes, then neighbors and friends crowded round Mistress Swan and the schoolmaster and said they had never really believed the evil reports of them.

So these two innocent people returned to their home, and men and women who had been in doubt before as to whether they should believe the tales of magic now said they had always considered the three "afflicted children" mischievous brats and wondered that their parents hadn't whipped them for telling such monstrous falsehoods. As for Jonathan Leek, when he found that he had no chance to injure Mistress Swan, and knew that people in Salem were beginning to hear the true story of his earlier career in Boston, he departed from Salem in haste, probably to carry his ready-made charges of witchcraft to other towns, where there might be people against whom he cherished grudges.