The Witch of Salem Part 48

"Go tell her that Charles Stevens prefers death on the gibbet to becoming her husband."

Mr. Parris gazed on the helpless prisoner for several minutes, his thin lips curled with a sneering smile.

"Charles Stevens," he said in low measured tones, "you are a fool. Do you know what it is to die? Have you counted the cost of a leap in the dark?"

"No sane man courts death; yet to the Christian, who hath kept G.o.d's commands, the monster is robbed of half his terrors. G.o.d has wisely const.i.tuted us so that we dread death. If we did not, we would not be willing to endure the misfortunes, disappointments and ills which afflict us from the cradle to the grave; but the Christian can say welcome to death in preference to dishonor. I thank my G.o.d, Samuel Parris, that I can, with the prophets of old, say, O, grave, where is thy victory?"

"Charles Stevens, have you ever thought that, after all, this, too, may be a delusion? That the Bible may be only the uninspired work of man, and that there may be no beyond--no G.o.d, save in nature?"

"So you have turned atheist?" cried Charles. "Perhaps you have been one all along?"

"Charles Stevens, one cannot help their doubts."

"One need not be a hypocrite, Mr. Parris. One can even drive doubts away. The true Christian never doubts and never fears. Pray for faith, have faith in your prayers, believe and ask G.o.d to help your unbelief, and doubts will disappear."

"Charles, you are too young, too wise to die. Accept Sarah Williams and live."

"Never! Away, hypocrite! Schemer, begone!"

The pastor, quite humbled, turned and went from the prison. There was a malignant gleam in his great wicked eyes, which boded the unfortunate prisoner no good.

For several weeks longer, Charles Stevens languished in prison. Cora, her father and mother came to Salem and visited him. When Cora Waters gazed on the young man, from whom she had parted a few weeks before in the full vigor of his young life and strength, and saw him emaciated, weak and pale, so that she scarcely knew him, she broke down and wept.

The two were left alone in the cell. Then Charles told her how uncertain were his chances of life, and how impending his prospects of death. He could not quit this life without telling her that he loved her, and that he wished to live to make her his wife. Though that pleasure was forever denied him, it would make his last days more agreeable to know that his love was returned.

What answer could she make? She, whose fondest hope this had been, said nothing; but, with heart overflowing, she threw her arms about the prisoner and burst into tears. Had she won him only to lose him? Was he to be s.n.a.t.c.hed from her side at the very moment that she found him her own?

"No, no, no! they shall not! they shall not!" she sobbed.

From that day, Cora shared the imprisonment of her lover, so far as the jailer would permit. She added to his comfort and a.s.sured him that her undying love would follow him to the grave. Their hopes rose and sank as the day of trial drew near.

The fatal day came at last, and Charles was arraigned before the court of oyer and terminer on charge of the murder of one Samuel Williams. He plead not guilty and made every preparation for defense. It was like fighting a masked battery; for they knew not what the evidence would be against them. The trial opened, and Sarah Williams, to make the scene more effective, came dressed in black and looking very pale. She was called to the stand and, between tears and sobs, told her sad story of how her loving husband had one day quarrelled with the defendant, and the latter had threatened him. Was any one else present? Yes. John Bly and Mr. Louder were both present when he threatened to kill her husband.

Charles Stevens remembered having a slight altercation when he was quite a boy with Mr. Williams; but it was such a trivial matter that he had forgotten it till now. Then she told that her loving husband feared he would be slain by Charles Stevens, and that he went away to New York city on a voyage, and that the same day Charles Stevens had come to her house, and had asked her whither her husband had gone, and she had every evidence to believe he went after him.

There were other witnesses, who swore that about this time Charles Stevens left the town and was gone away for some time. Charles remembered that on that occasion he had taken a journey to Rhode Island.

Then came two strangers, evidently sea-faring men, of the lowest order.

They were brutal, unscrupulous and had lived the lives of buccaneers, as was afterward proved. Both swore that they knew the defendant, although he had never seen either before. They saw the defendant slay Samuel Williams on Long Island, near the beach, and both gave a graphic account of his dragging the body along the sand and hurling it into the water, where the tide bore it away. Their statements were corroborative.

Bly and Louder were next produced, who gave evidence that the defendant had confessed to them that he had slain Samuel Williams, and that defendant was greatly enamored of the murdered man's wife.

Mr. Parris and others testified to having seen him in the company of Sarah Williams on divers of times, and that he had shown great fondness for her.

"What have you to say to this evidence?" asked the chief justice to the prisoner.

"I can only say they are all grievous liars."

"The jury will take notice how the defendant a.s.saults men of unquestioned character. Even the minister is a.s.sailed."

There was a murmur of discontent, in which even some of the jury joined.

Judges, jury and prosecutors were all against Charles, and his trial must result in conviction. The people were excited at the dastardly murder, and began to complain at the delay in the trial, which wore tediously on day after day for nearly a week.

At last the evidence was all in, and the last argument made. There was everything against the prisoner. The prosecution had been so skillfully planned and executed, that there could be but one result. Charles Stevens was very calm, while Cora was carried away in a fainting condition. Mr. Waters went to the prisoner to speak with him.

Charles' face was white as death; but his mind was clear and showed not the least agitation.

"There can be but one result," the prisoner said. "An acquittal is impossible. Be good to Cora and mother, and keep them both away on that day. It would be too much for them. They would not forget it to their dying hour."

Mr. Waters a.s.sured him that his last requests should be granted, and spoke a few words of consolation and hope. So many good people of late had perished on the gibbet, that hanging was no longer ignominious. The best and purest had died thus.

The jury had been out but a few moments, when a great hub-bub arose without, and voices could be heard crying:

"Wait! wait! stay your verdict!"

A crowd of men rushed into the court room with a tall young man, whose weather-beaten face indicated a seafaring life, at the head of them. His cruel gray eyes, bold manner, as well as the pistols and cutla.s.s at his belt, gave him the appearance of a pirate.

"I am not dead, I trow! Who said I was dead?" he asked.

"Samuel Williams! Alive!" cried a score of voices.

"Who said I was murdered?"

Sarah Williams rose with a shriek and stared at her husband, as if he had been an apparition, while all the witnesses, including the Rev. Mr.

Parris, were covered with confusion. The jury was recalled and Samuel Williams himself took the stand. He stated:

"I left my wife, because I could not live with her, and, marry! I would prefer hanging to existence with her. I went to New York, where Captain Robert Kidd was beating up recruits to sail as a privateer in the _Adventurer_ to protect commerce against the French privateers and sea-robbers. I enlisted and then, with one hundred and fifty men, Kidd did good service on the American coast, and we went to the Indian Ocean to attack pirates. Our plunder from the pirates made us long to gain more booty, and Kidd became a pirate himself. Armed with cutla.s.ses and pistols, we were made to board many vessels, English as well as other nationalities. We went to South America, the West Indies, and finally came to New York, where Captain Kidd, one dark night, landed on Gardiner's Island, east of Long Island, with an enormous treasure of gold, jewels and precious stones, which he buried in the earth. From there we came to Boston. A pardon had been granted for all, save Kidd, who was yesterday arrested and sent to England to be tried.[F] I heard that a man had been arrested for my murder, and I hastened to save him."

[Footnote F: Kidd was subsequently tried, condemned, and hung in chains; but his treasure on Gardiner's Island has not to this day been found.]

The romantic story of the returned pirate produced the most profound sensation among the people in the court room. The jury had just voted on a verdict of guilty, when they were recalled, and instructed to give a verdict of acquittal, which they did. Mr. Parris retired in humiliation and disgrace. Cora fainted in her rescued lover's arms, while Mrs.

Stevens, falling on her knees, thanked G.o.d that the light of Heaven at last shone on the path so long dark. Cora's mother came to take her from the liberated prisoner; but he would not give her up, holding her until she regained consciousness, when all went home together, a happy and united family.

Almost in the twinkling of an eye, the delusion was dispelled, and many who had been wrong hastened, so far as in them lay to make reparation.

The bigoted and fanatical, if we may not say hypocritical preachers, were displaced by G.o.d-fearing, righteous ministers, who were more liberal, exercising common sense, and possessing humanity as well as G.o.dliness, which is ever essential to a good minister. They were liberal, even to the player's child as well as to the players themselves.

George and Henry Waters both became citizens of Salem, and Charles and Cora were married three months after the acquittal of the former. Their lives were eventful, with as much happiness as is commonly allotted to mortals of earth, and they left nine children, all brought up in the fear of the Lord, and lovers of liberty.

Witchcraft prosecutions were doomed, and shortly after the acquittal of Charles Stevens in so singular a manner, they altogether ceased to prosecute. The imprisoned witches and wizards were reprieved and set free. Reluctant to yield, the party of superst.i.tion were resolved on one conviction. The victim selected was Sarah Daston, a woman eighty years old, who, for twenty years, had borne the undisputed reputation of a witch. If ever there was a witch in the world, she, it was said, was one. Her trial was conducted at Charlestown in the presence of a great throng. There was more evidence against her than any tried at Salem; but the common mind disenthralled of the hideous delusion a.s.serted itself, through the jury by a verdict of acquittal.

Cotton Mather, who was thoroughly imbued with the delusion, to cover his confusion, got up a case of witchcraft in his own parish. He averred that miracles were wrought in Boston. Cotton Mather does not seem to have been bloodthirsty, though he was more anxious to protect his vanity than his paris.h.i.+oners, and his bewitched neophyte, profiting by his cautions, was afflicted by veiled spectres. The imposture was promptly exposed to ridicule by one who was designated as "a malignant, calumnious, and reproachful man, a coal from h.e.l.l." It was the uncultured, but rational, Robert Calef. Cotton Mather wrote and spoke much on the subject of witchcraft, long after the delusion had vanished.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Cotton Mather.]

The inexorable indignation of the people of Salem Village drove Parris from the place. Noyes confessed his error and guilt, asked forgiveness and devoted the remainder of his life to deeds of charity. Sewall, one of the judges, by rising in his pew in the Old South meeting-house on a fast day, and reading to the whole congregation a paper, in which he bewailed his great offence, recovered public esteem. Stoughton and Cotton Mather never repented. The former lived proud, unsatisfied and unbeloved. The latter attempted to persuade others and himself that he had not been specially active in the tragedy. His diary proves that he did not wholly escape the impeachment of conscience, for it is stated that Cotton Mather, who had sought the foundation of faith in tales of wonders himself, "had temptations to atheism and to the abandonment of all religion as a mere delusion."

As when a storm clears away, it leaves the atmosphere clearer, so the common mind of New England became more wise. By employing a cautious spirit of search, eliminating error, rejecting superst.i.tion as tending toward cowardice and submission, the people cherished religion as a source of courage and a fountain of freedom, and forever after refused to separate belief from reason.

The actual fate of Mr. Parris is not certainly known. Some have intimated that he died of a loathsome disease, others that, like Judas, he took his own life; but we are a.s.sured that he received his share of earthly torment for his base hypocrisy and cruel wrongs. Most of the people who pretended to be afflicted afterward made confessions admitting their error. Efforts were made by the legislature to make amends for some of the great wrongs done at Salem; but such wrongs can never be righted. The victims of Parris' hate and avarice have slept for two hundred years on Witches' Hill, and there await the trump that shall rouse the dead, when the just shall be separated from the unjust.