It was Sacrament Sunday. By this time girls were screaming and reeling on the floor in agony in many counties, not just in our county of Essex. Bewitched girls were to be found in the counties of Andover, Salmon Falls, Salisbury and Topsfield. They had accused an increasing number of women and men.

I was much anguished as I faced my brethren and read the scripture from the New Testament:

‘Have I not chosen you twelve and one of you is a devil?’ I took in a breath and looked at my brethren again. ‘I do not know if there are any in this church or who they are.’

I watched as Sarah Cloyse got up and with a grimacing face, turned, walked quickly down the aisle, opened the door and let it bang shut. What would happen next in this place of worship? A woman daring to walk out of the meeting house, banging the door? I think I have been too gentle with them.

The following Sunday, I thundered the scripture from Revelation 20, verses 10 and 15:

‘And the Devil that deceived them was cast into the lake of fire and brimstone, where the beast and the false prophet shall be tormented day and night, for ever and ever … And anyone not found written in the “B” were cast into the lake of fire.

‘It pains me to say that the Devil roams in this tiny village of ours. We must not be won over by that evil angel. It is of dire importance to stay in the “Book of Life”. I exhort you to do so.’ I gulped. ‘I think it appropriate to hold a fast this week. And we all must pray constantly. Let us pray now.’

I took in their faces. Yes, they got the message. We sang a hymn before I led them in prayer.

I had slept badly. Betty, bless her, brought me in my breakfast of poached eggs, bread and coffee, on a tray. I didn’t like breakfast in bed but I was so touched, I accepted the tray with grace. When I finished, I threw off the blankets, arose and peered through the window. It had showered and now the sun was shining. I watched as a pink blossom fell and I was reminded of God’s creation. The grass glistened to welcome in a new day. But my youthful energy had fled. The sunshine seemed to jeer at me. I opened the latch of the window and one side flew open. The smell of horse manure reached my nostrils. I had to tell John Indian to take it for manure to use in our vegetable garden later. I closed the window and fastened the latch. A glance in the mirror showed me with a grey cast over my face. I had aged. I felt the bristle on my chin. Still in robe, I went to shave myself. I called to Betty, ‘Please run me my bath.’

Lying in it, I felt the urge to cleanse my soul as well as my body.

The warm water was so comforting. I thought of my wife, now gone for a decade, more than a decade, yet it seemed like yesterday when she was with me giving succour and support. What I would give to smell her fragrance again, to feel her soft skin next to mine again, to hear her melodious voice once more.

I must have dozed off with thoughts of her, when I jerked up in cooling water. I got out and rubbed myself vigorously to get the blood moving. I was expecting Dr Griggs. I must dress in haste. Hearing the knock on the door, I went to open it. My heart warmed to see Dr Griggs looking alert, with a smile on his face, ever ready with his medical bag always at his side even when he called for a social visit.

Seated in the parsonage, both of us looked stiff, like trees in the winter. Dr Griggs broke the silence. ‘Pastor how is your health? Are you sleeping well?’

‘Sleep, what is that? I only enjoy tattered threads of sleep. But should I only consider myself? Others are suffering more. The village is collapsing. People are waiting for court cases. Dr Griggs, thank you for coming. How I need to talk to you. Twelve women and men have now been arrested. There’s William, Nehemiah, Joel, Edward, and Giles. It is one thing to think that we may have witches in our presence but also to have wizards is beyond the pale.’ I rolled my eyes and looked heavenward. I remembered the refreshments and called to Betty to bring tea and cake.

‘Pastor, I don’t know what to think. Did I make a mistake when I first found Betty and Abigail in fits? Did I make an error in supposing that it was bewitchment? Have I started this?’

I saw Dr Griggs’ face. His mouth gave a quick twitch.

‘Dr Griggs, do not take the blame. This fricassee is due to many people — the girls screaming out names, those adults who goaded them on, and let’s not forget Mr Hawthorne. He sent my Tituba to Boston prison when she had made a full confession of doing the Devil’s bidding. I told Tituba to confess. Mr Hawthorne clearly said that those who confessed would go free. He cannot be trusted. He is a liar.’

Dr Griggs, noting my agitation, pulled his chair away.

I must calm down.

‘Did you hear that Susan Osborne died in her chains at Boston prison?’ said Dr Griggs.’

‘She would not confess; she said she would not lie. The poor woman; at least, she is now free from torment,’ I said.

‘What a waste of life? She was a strong woman; she just wasted away.’

We stayed silent for a while in remembrance of Sarah.

‘The terrible thing is that the girls did not accuse her. It was Sarah Good. Sarah Osborne should never have been tried,’ I continued. ‘I remember the look on her face when she was accused, out of pure malice, by Sarah Good.’

‘Sarah Osborne was a handsome woman but she was bedraggled by the time she arrived at court. She soon lost hope; so filled with fear, she couldn’t finish the Lord’s Prayer.’

His mouth twitched again.

‘She could have if the girls had not called her a witch over and over again. Their screams were deafening. I really thought, at first, that Mr Hawthorne would have excused her. I think she did too,’ I said.

‘The shock of prison in Boston with rats and poor food was just too much for her,’ said Dr Griggs.

We both sat in silence again.

‘What about old, deaf Rebecca Nurse, who was in her sick bed? So gentle a soul, a model for the community,’ said Dr Griggs.

‘But of course, my niece said she saw her apparition and that Rebecca held out the Devil’s book to her which Abigail threw to the floor. Ann had accused Rebecca first, condemning her for causing her to froth at the mouth.’

‘And what did Rebecca reply? “But I am troubled at some of their crying out. Some of the persons they have spoken of are, as I believe, as innocent as I.”’

‘I visited her in prison with Reverend Noyes.’ I didn’t tell Dr Griggs that when we had visited Rebecca in prison, we had not given her much comfort. Instead we had exhorted her to confess to no avail. Guilt overran me. I thought then that was the right and correct thing to do. At least God would forgive them even if the court did not. The Antichrist was here in Salem. As Revelation 17.4 said, ‘These shall make war with the Lamb and the Lamb shall overcome them.’

I was lost in thought. Did Rebecca Nurse ever make war with the Lamb? I knew the Nurse family now hated me, as they believed I had not done enough to save old Rebecca. Her sister Sarah had said I had less sympathy than Mr Hawthorne. What an insult! I was aware that Dr Griggs was watching me with curiosity as to why I had suddenly stopped talking to him. I smiled.

‘She was accused, let free, but tried again in Salem Town. Did you attend?’

Dr Griggs thought for a while and then said, ‘I don’t think so; I must have been called on a medical emergency.’ His mouth twitched again.

‘Well, you wouldn’t forget it. The girls were like possessed beasts. They yelled and shouted and moaned and swayed with their hands in the air. The second verdict was guilty. Events are out of our hands. You know what has happened to all those who oppose the girls. It is too dangerous. How can either of us stand up and tell the girls not to accuse anyone? None of us is free of being accused.’

‘I know. The girls have the power to put people back into prison when they have been released.’

He was lost in thought. ‘Can you begin to understand how it must feel to be found innocent and relax and then be brought back and found guilty?’ said Dr Griggs.

‘It makes me sick to think of it,’ I replied.

‘Pastor, it will go on and on. I can’t see an end to it as yet.’

We both clutched our cups, now empty.

‘What am I going to put in my sermon this Sunday?’

‘Continue to give them hope, Pastor, give them hope. Not a jeremiad.’

‘Dr Griggs, I so value your friendship.’