The first General Court under the new charter met meanwhile, and Increase Mather, who had returned in company with Phipps, gave an account of his agency. From a House not well pleased with the loss of the old charter he obtained a reluctant vote of thanks, but he received no compensation for four years' expenses, which had pressed very heavily upon his narrow income. After passing a temporary act for continuing in force all the old laws, among others the capital law against witchcraft, an adjournment was had, without any objection or even reference, so far as appears, to the special court for the trial of the witches, which surely would have raised a great outcry had it been established for any unpopular purpose.
According to a favorite practice of the old Government, now put in use for the last time, Phipps requested the advice of the elders as to the proceedings against the witches. The reply, drawn up by the hand of Cotton Mather, acknowledges with thankfulness "the success which the merciful God has given to the sedulous and assiduous endeavors of our honorable rulers to defeat the abominable witchcrafts which have been committed in the country, humbly praying that the discovery of those mysterious and mischievous wickednesses may be perfected." It advises, however, "critical and exquisite caution" in relying too much on "the devil's authority," that is, on spectral evidence, or "apparent changes wrought in the afflicted by the presence of the accused"; neither of which, in the opinion of the ministers, could be trusted as infallible proof. Yet it was almost entirely on this sort of evidence that all the subsequent convictions were had. Stoughton, unfortunately, had espoused the opinion—certainly a plausible one—that it was impossible for the devil to assume the appearance of an innocent man, or for persons not witches to be spectrally seen at witches' meetings; and some of the confessing witches were prompt to flatter the chief justice's vanity by confirming a doctrine so apt for their purposes.
At the second session of the special court five women were tried and convicted. The others were easily disposed of; but in the case of Rebecca Nurse, one of Parris' church-members, a woman hitherto of unimpeachable character, the jury at first gave a verdict of acquittal. At the announcement of this verdict "the afflicted" raised a great clamor. The "honored Court" called the jury's attention to an exclamation of the prisoner during the trial, expressive of surprise at seeing among the witnesses two of her late fellow-prisoners: "Why do these testify against me? They used to come among us!" These two witnesses had turned confessors, and these words were construed by the court as confirming their testimony of having met the prisoner at witches' meetings. The unhappy woman, partially deaf, listened to this colloquy in silence. Thus pressed by the Court, and hearing no reply from the prisoner, the jury changed their verdict and pronounced her guilty. The explanations subsequently offered in her behalf were disregarded. The Governor, indeed, granted a reprieve, but the Salem committee procured its recall, and the unhappy woman, taken in chains to the meeting-house, was solemnly excommunicated, and presently hanged with the others.
At the third session of the court six prisoners were tried and convicted, all of whom were presently hanged except Elizabeth Procter, whose pregnancy was pleaded in delay. Her true and faithful husband, in spite of a letter to the Boston ministers, denouncing the falsehood of the witnesses, complaining that confessions had been extorted by torture, and begging for a trial at Boston or before other judges, was found guilty, and suffered with the rest. Another of this unfortunate company was John Willard, employed as an officer to arrest the accused, but whose imprudent expression of some doubts on the subject had caused him to be accused also. He had fled, but was pursued and taken, and was now tried and executed. His behavior, and that of Procter, at the place of execution, made, however, a deep impression on many minds.
A still more remarkable case was that of George Burroughs, a minister whom the incursions of the Eastern Indians had lately driven from Saco back to Salem village, where he had formerly preached, and where he now found among his former parishioners enemies more implacable even than the Indians. It was the misfortune of Burroughs to have many enemies, in part, perhaps, by his own fault. Encouragement was thus found to accuse him. Some of the witnesses had seen him at witches' meetings; others had seen the apparitions of his dead wives, which accused him of cruelty. These witnesses, with great symptoms of horror and alarm, even pretended to see these dead wives again appearing to them in open court. Though small of size, Burroughs was remarkably strong, instances of which were given in proof that the devil helped him. Stoughton treated him with cruel insolence, and did his best to confuse and confound him.
What insured his condemnation was a paper he handed to the jury, an extract from some author, denying the possibility of witchcraft. Burroughs' speech from the gallows affected many, especially the fluent fervency of his prayers, concluding with the Lord's Prayer, which no witch, it was thought, could repeat correctly. Several, indeed, had been already detected by some slight error or mispronunciation in attempting it. The impression, however, which Burroughs might have produced was neutralized by Cotton Mather, who appeared on horseback among the crowd, and took occasion to remind the people that Burroughs, though a preacher, was no "ordained" minister, and that the devil would sometimes assume even the garb of an angel of light.
At a fourth session of the court six women were tried and found guilty. At another session shortly after, eight women and one man were convicted, all of whom received sentence of death. An old man of eighty, who refused to plead, was pressed to death—a barbarous infliction prescribed by the common law for such cases.
Ever since the trials began, it had been evident that confession was the only avenue to safety. Several of those now found guilty confessed and were reprieved; but Samuel Woodwell, having retracted his confession, along with seven others who persisted in their innocence, was sent to execution. "The afflicted" numbered by this time about fifty; fifty-five had confessed themselves witches and turned accusers; twenty persons had already suffered death; eight more were under sentence; the jails were full of prisoners, and new accusations were added every day. Such was the state of things when the court adjourned to the first Monday in November.
Cotton Mather employed this interval in preparing his Wonders of the Invisible World, containing an exulting account of the late trials, giving full credit to the statements of the afflicted and the confessors, and vaunting the good effects of the late executions in "the strange deliverance of some that had lain for many years in a most sad condition, under they knew not what evil hand."
While the witch trials were going on, the Governor had hastened to Pemaquid, and in accordance with instructions brought with him from England, though at an expense to the province which caused loud complaints, had built there a strong stone fort. Colonel Church had been employed, in the mean time, with four hundred men, in scouring the shores of the Penobscot and the banks of the Kennebec.