CHAPTER IV.
MR. PARRIS AND FLOCK.
And false the light on glory's plume, As fading hues of even, And Love and Hope, and Beauty's bloom, Are blossoms gathered for the tomb,-- There's nothing bright but Heaven. --Moore.
The last expiring throe of a mighty superstition was about to convulsethe little society at Salem, and, as usual in such cases, ignorance andprejudice went hand in hand for the destruction of reason and humanity.The last of the great religious persecutions was to begin, when eminentdivines were to stand and point with pride to the swaying bodies oftheir victims, hanging from the gibbet, and call them "fire-brands ofhell."
In the village of Salem, there was a strife between Samuel Parris theminister and a part of his people; a strife so bitter, that it had evenattracted the attention of a general court. We all know, even in thesemodern days, what a furor can be created in a church, when a part of theorganization is arrayed against the pastor. Sometimes the divineshepherd loses his temper and says ugly things against his flock, andthinks many which he does not utter.
Parris was a man filled with ambition and prejudice. He was a fanaticand easily driven to frenzy by opposition. An unfavorable criticismupset his highly nervous organism, and he set out to find some proof inthe Scriptures for condemning his enemies. It never entered into hismind to love those who hated him.
Mr. Parris had lived in the West Indies for several years before goingto Salem, and had brought with him some slaves purchased from theSpaniards. Among them were two famous in history as John and Tituba hiswife. Historians disagree as to the nationality of these slaves. Someaver they were Indians, others call them negroes, while some state theywere half and half. Whatever may have been their nationality, theirpractices were the fetichism of western Africa, and there can be nodoubt that negro blood predominated in their veins. All their training,their low cunning and beastly worship, their deception and treacherywere utterly unlike the characteristics of the early aborigines ofAmerica, and were purely African.
John and Tituba were full of the gross superstitions of their people,and were of the frame and temperament best adapted to the practice ofdemonology.
In the family of Samuel Parris, his daughter, a child of nine years, andhis niece, a girl of less than twelve, began to have strange caprices.During such a state of affairs the pastor actually permitted to beformed, with his own knowledge, a society of young girls between theages of eight and eighteen to meet at the parsonage, strangelyresembling those "circles" of our own time called seances, forspiritualistic revelations. There can be no doubt that the young girlswere laboring under a strong nervous and mental excitement, which wasencouraged rather than repressed by the means employed by theirspiritual director. Instead of treating them as subjects of morbiddelusion, Mr. Parris regarded them as victims of external and diabolicalinfluence, and strangely enough this influence, on the evidence of thechildren themselves, was supposed to be exercised by some of the mostpious and respectable people of the community. As it was those whoopposed Mr. Parris, who fell under the ban of suspicion, there is roomto suspect the reverent Mr. Parris with making a strong effort togratify his revenge.
Many a child has had its early life blighted and its nerves shattered bya ghost-believing and ghost-story-telling nurse.
No class of people is more superstitious in regard to ghosts and witchesthan negroes. Whatever fetich ideas may have been among the Indians ofthe New World, many more were imbibed from the Africans with whom theyearly came in contact.
Old Tituba was a horrid-looking creature. If ever there was a witch onearth, she was one, and as she crouched in one corner, smoking her claypipe, her eyes closed, telling her weird stories to the girls, no onecan wonder that they were strangely affected.
"Now, chillun, lem me tell ye, dat ef ebber a witch catches ye, andpinches ye, and sticks pins in ye, ye won't see 'em, ye won't seenobody, ye won't see nuffin," said old Tituba.
"What should we do if a witch were to catch us, Tituba?" asked AbigailWilliams, the niece of Mr. Parris.
"Dar but one thing to do, chile. Dat am to burn de witch or hang 'em."
"Are there witches now?"
"Yes, dar be plenty. I see 'em ob night. Doan ye nebber see a black manin de night?"
The children were all silent, until one little girl, whose imaginationwas very vivid, thought she had seen a black man, once.
"When was it?" asked Abigail Williams.
"One night, when I waked out of my sleep, I saw a great black somethingby my side."
The little blue eyes opened so wide and looked with such earnestness onthe assembled children, that there could be no doubting her sincerity.
"Can we catch witches?" Abigail asked Tituba.
"Yes."
"How?"
"Many ways."
Then she proceeded to tell of the various charms by which a witch mightbe detected, such as drawing the picture of the person accused andstabbing it with a knife of silver, or shooting it with a silver bullet.
"Once, when a witch was in a churn," continued Tituba, "and no butterwould come, den de man, he take some hot water an' pour it in de churn,an' jist den dar come a loud noise like er gun, an' dey see er clouderbove de churn. Bye um bye, dat cloud turned ter er woman's head an' etwar an ole woman wat lib in der neighborhood and war called a witch."
"Is that true, Tituba?" asked one of the little girls.
"It am so, fur er sartin sure fact, chile."
Nothing is more susceptible than a young imagination. It can seewhatever it wills, hear whatever is desired, and like wax is ready toreceive any impression one chooses to put on it. A child can be made tobelieve it sees the most unnatural things, and in a few days Tituba andJohn had thoroughly convinced the children that they saw spirits andwitches in the air all about them.
One evening, a pretty young woman, not over twenty-one or two, came tothe parsonage, where the witches and ghosts had been holding high revel.She was a brunette with a dark keen eye and hair of jet. Her face waslovely, save when distorted by passion, and her form was faultless.
"Sarah Williams, where have you been, that we have seen nothing of youfor a fortnight?" asked Mrs. Parris as the visitor entered the house.
"I have been to Boston, and but just came back yesterday. What strangethings have been transpiring since I left?"
At this moment a door opened and Mr. Parris, a tall, pale man, enteredfrom his study. The new-comer, without waiting for the pastor's wife toanswer her question, rose and, grasping the hand of her spiritualadviser, cried:
"Mr. Parris, how pale you are! but then I cannot wonder at it, when Iconsider all I have heard."
"What have you heard, Sarah?" he asked.
"I have heard you are having trouble in your congregation."
"Who told you?"
"The rumor has gone all over the country, even reaching Boston. And theydo say that the evil spirits have visited Salem to defame you."
Mr. Parris pressed his thin lips so firmly that the blood seemed to haveutterly forsaken them, and his cold gray eye was kindled with a subduedfire, as he answered:
"I am far from insensible that at this extraordinary time of the devilcoming down in great wrath upon us, there are too many tongues andhearts thereby set on fire of hell."
"To whom can you trace your troubles?"
"To Goodwife Nurse," answered the pastor. "It is that firebrand of hellwho seeks to ruin me."
"I saw Goody Nurse," cried one of the smaller children.
"When?" asked Mr. Parris.
"Last night."
The pastor, the visitor, and the wife exchanged significant glances, andthe father asked:
"Where did you see her?"
"She came with the black man to my bed."
"What did she do?"
"She asked me to sign the book."
"What book?"
"I don't know; but it was a red book."
The anxious mother, in a fit of hyster
ics, seized her child in her armsand cried:
"No, no, no! don't you sign the book and sell your immortal soul,child!" and she gave way to a fit of weeping, which unnerved all thechildren, who began to howl, as if they were beset by demons. When thehubbub was at its height, the door to an adjoining room opened, andTituba and John stuck their heads into the room.
"She am dar! she am dar!" cried old Tituba. "I see her! I see dem bofe!"
"Yes, I see um--see um bofe, Tituba," repeated John.
"Who do you see?" asked the pastor.
"See de black man and Goody Nurse."
"Where?"
"Dar."
They pointed along the floor, then up the wall to the ceiling, wherethey both avowed that they saw Goodwife Nurse and the black man, ordemon, dancing with their heels up and heads down.
The negro clapped his hands, patted his foot on the floor and criedaloud:
"Doan yer see um, Marster? doan yer see um, chillun?"
One little girl, who fixed her eyes on a certain dark corner of theroom, thought she could see a shadow moving on the wall, but was notquite certain. The pastor was overcome by the presence of the prince ofdarkness in his own house, and, falling on his knees, began to pray. Asa natural result, when all minds were directed to one channel, as theywere by prayer, the superstitious feeling which possessed them passedaway, and the household, which a few moments ago was on the verge ofhysteria, became more calm, and when all rose from their knees, Mrs.Parris asked her visitor to spend the evening with them.
"I fain would stay; but I dread the long walk home."
"Samuel will accompany you, unless Charles Stevens comes, as hepromised. In case he should, he can go with you."
At the mention of Charles Stevens, the young woman's eyes grew brighter,and her face became crimson.
"Sarah, have you not heard from your husband?" asked the minister.
"No; he is dead."
"Did you never hear of the pinnace?"
"No; but it was no doubt lost."
"How long since he left?"
"A year. He went to New York, was seen to leave that port, and has neverbeen heard from."
"It is sad."
"Verily, it is," and Sarah tried hard to call up a tear, and wiped hereyes with the corner of her apron.
John and Tituba had retired to their domain, the kitchen, to conjure upmore demons and plan further mischief.
Mr. Parris could not keep his mind long from the rebellious members ofhis flock. "I will be avenged on them," he thought. "Verily, I will beavenged for every pang they have made me suffer."
He had forgotten the command, "Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saiththe Lord."
Sarah Williams proceeded to further delve into the trouble with Mr.Parris and his church.
"Is Rebecca Nurse your enemy?" she asked.
"Verily, she is; so is her sister Goodwife Corey."
"Why are they your enemies?"
"They want another pastor, and have done all in their power to ruin me."
"Why do you endure it?" asked Sarah.
"How can I help myself? I retain my charge and shall retain it, despiteGoody Nurse."
At this the youngest child said:
"Goody Nurse was at church last Lord's day with a yellow bird."
"A yellow bird?" cried all.
"Yes; I saw a yellow bird fly into the church and light on hershoulder."
Tituba had told the poor deluded child that if Goodwife Nurse were awitch, she would be accompanied by a yellow bird.
"Surely you saw no yellow bird last Lord's day."
"Verily, I did, and it came first and sat on her shoulder, and then onher knee, and, while father was preaching, it whispered in her ear."
"Could you hear what it said?" asked the pastor.
"No, for I was not near enough."
Then the pastor and his wife and visitor exchanged glances. Foolishlycredulous and blindly superstitious, as well as prejudiced, their mindswere like the fallow ground ready to receive any impression, howeversilly.
Before more could be said, there came a rap at the door, and CharlesStevens, the lad who succored the wounded stranger that had somysteriously disappeared, entered. Charles was almost a man, and bidfair to make a fine-looking fellow. He was tall and muscular, with boldgray eyes and a face open and manly. He had lost none of his mirth, andhis merry whistle still shocked some of the staid old Puritans.
As soon as Charles entered, the young widow rose, all blushing, to greethim. She was not more than one or two years his senior, and, being stillbeautiful, there was a possibility of her entrapping the youth.
The pastor greeted him warmly and assured him that his visit was mostopportune; but he regretted very much that he had not come an hoursooner.
"Wherefore would you have had me come an hour sooner?" asked the merryCharles.
"That you might, with your own eyes, behold some of the wonderfulmanifestations of the prince of darkness."
With a laugh, Charles answered that such manifestations were too commonto merit much comment; but as a matter of course he asked what themanifestations were.
"An example of witchcraft."
At this Charles laughed, and Mr. Parris was shocked at his scepticism.
"Wherefore do you laugh, unregenerated youth?" cried the pastor.
"A witch! I believe there are no witches," he answered.
"Would you believe your eyes, young sceptic?"
"I might even doubt my own eyes."
"Wherefore would you?"
"Nothing is more deceptive than sight; optical delusions are common. Didyou see a witch?"
"Not myself; but others did."
"Who?"
"John, Tituba and Ann Parris saw the witches dancing on the ceiling,with their feet up and their heads down."
At this Charles Stevens again laughed and answered:
"Verily you are mad, Mr. Parris, to believe what those lying negroessay. They have persuaded the child into the belief that she sees strangesights."
Mr. Parris became greatly excited and cried:
"The maid sees the shape of Goody Nurse and the black man at night. Theycome and choke her, to make her sign the book."
"What book?"
"The devil's book. Do you not remember some time ago a stranger was atyour house, who mysteriously disappeared?" Of course Charles remembered.He had never forgotten that mysterious stranger, and often wondered whathad been his fate.
"The same shape appeared before John Louder in the forest, where he hadgone to stalk deer, and asked him to sign the red book in which isrecorded the souls of the damned."
This was the frightful story told by Louder on his return from thenight's hunt, and many of the credulous New Englanders believed him. Mr.Parris, having become warmed up on his subject, resumed:
"Charles, Charles, shake off the hard yoke of the devil. Where 'tissaid, 'the whole world lies in wickedness,' 'tis by some of the ancientsrendered, 'the whole world lies in the devil.' The devil is a prince,yea, the devil is a god unto all the unregenerate, and, alas, there is awhole world of them. Desolate sinner, consider what a horrid lord it isyou are enslaved unto, and oh, shake off the slavery of such a lord."
Charles was unprepared for such a sermon, and had no desire to be boredwith it, yet he was left without choice in the matter.
The young widow came to his relief and took him off under her protectionand soon made him forget that he had ever been rebuked by the parson.Certainly, he had never met a more agreeable person than Sarah Williams.Her husband was a brother of Mrs. Parris, and she wielded a greatinfluence in the minister's family. Gradually she absorbed more and moreof Charles Stevens' society, telling him of her recent visit to Boston,and of the latest news from England, inquiring about his mother, andtalking only on the subjects which most interested him. He thought her acharming woman.
The hour was late ere they knew it, and Puritanic New England was anenemy to late hours. Sarah declared she must go home.
"Com
e again, Sarah," said Mrs. Parris.
"I will. Verily, I must go; but see, the moon is down, how dark it is."
Charles was not slower to take the hint than a young man of our own day.Humanity has been the same since Eve first evinced her power over Adamin the garden. Ever since, men have been led by a pretty face often totheir ruin. Charles, in a bashful, awkward way, informed the young widowthat he was going the same road, and it would not be much out of his wayto accompany her to her very door. Of course she was pleased, andCharles and the young widow went away together.
"Have you never learned the fate of your husband, Sarah?" he asked.
"No; poor Samuel is dead," she answered.
"It is sad that you know not his fate. Was he drowned at sea, killed bythe Indians, or murdered by the pirates?"
"I know not. I am very lonely now, Charles."
"I pity you."
"Do you?"
"Verily, I do."
"Thank you, Charles."
"Your parents are in Boston, are they not?"
"Yes."
"Do you intend to live always thus alone?"
"Oh, I trust not," and the darkness concealed the sly glance which Sarahcast from her great dark eyes on the unsuspecting youth at her side. Theconversation was next changed to Mr. Parris, his quarrel with his flock,and the strange phenomenon developing at his house.
"What think you of it, Charles?"
"It is a sham."
"Oh, no, no! John, the negro man, is bewitched, and has fits."
"A good flogging would very quickly bring him out of his fits."
By this time they had reached the door of Sarah Williams' house. Sheturned upon the youth and, seizing his arm, in a voice trembling withemotion, said:
"Charles, I beseech of you, as you love life and happiness, do not sayaught against Mr. Parris or witchcraft. We stand on the brink ofsomething terrible, and no one knows what the end may be."
As Charles wended his way homeward, he pondered over the strange wordsof Sarah Williams, and asked himself:
"What does she mean?"