The sun had withdrawn and a fire was necessary. Past events clouded my mind. I took up the paper which rustled in my hands as I wrapped the rug across my knees. The fire was roaring. I could smell the aroma of roast chicken coming from the kitchen. I chuckled. Philip English was joining with ordinary yeomen to demand compensation for what they had lost during the witch trials. Philip English wanted 150 pounds. I doubted he would get it. I didn’t feel sorry for him. But I did feel for the ordinary people who had lost family and who had mortgaged their homes to release family members. As I thought, only 598 pounds was raised. That had to go to the yeoman and their families.
I felt injured. I was forced to leave my post as pastor. I was now working as a clerk. It was safe but boring at times. I thought of Captain Walcott whom I missed so much, not knowing of his whereabouts. He used to keep me informed of current events and I so enjoyed his rustic company. What did I care if he had a drink or two? No man had taken his place. I heard a knock on the door. Opening it I saw Betty, my daughter.
After giving her refreshments, I asked her, ‘Did you ever wonder how Mr Hawthorne knew about the nocturnal meetings with Tituba?’
‘Well, Father, I know it really upset Abigail. She always wanted to know who it was who informed him. Not knowing drives her mad.’
‘Is that so?’ I smirked.
‘But you know Abigail; she always had something new to occupy her mind.’
We both laughed.
‘I was just thinking, if only Captain Walcott had married Abigail. He would have controlled her and I would have had the captain as my son-in-law.’
‘I know you held the captain in high regard.’
‘I did. But so did Abigail.’
Betty tittered.
‘But maybe giving Abigail to him would have been a curse for him.’
‘Father!’
‘Do you think Abigail would have accepted him?’
‘Yes, especially if she hadn’t met Robert.’
‘Especially if she didn’t know who told Mr Hawthorne about the night meetings with Tituba.’
‘Do you know who informed Mr Hawthorne?’
‘It was Captain Walcott.’
‘Captain Walcott?’
Betty’s mouth opened.
‘It was by accident thought not design. He just happened to come across the girls as he was searching for his niece. He told me he was “spellbound watching them”.’
Betty smiled.
‘I found out from John Indian when the next meeting was and Captain Walcott and I went to view them. It was obvious that Tituba was in charge and enjoying herself.
‘“Can you believe this?” I said to him.
‘“Pastor, the girls want their freedom, freedom we men take for granted.” Captain Walcott understood many things.’
‘Indeed he did.’
‘We noted that you did not participate.’
‘No, Father.’
Did I see a glimmer of guilt in Betty’s eyes? Surely not.
‘Later he asked me, “Pastor, may I tell Mr Hawthorne of these nocturnal trysts?”
‘I thought for a moment then nodded my head.
‘That’s why, Betty I had to get Tituba to confess. She was already in trouble. I stupidly believed him that all those who confessed would be set free. But Mr Hawthorne was a liar.’
‘He was indeed. Yes, I always thought that Abigail did have an eye on Captain Walcott without realising that the girls were trained to keep an eye on events and had an obligation to pass on their information.’
‘Wheels within wheels, Betty.’
Betty smiled. ‘I think Abigail was more interested in the uniform and how tightly it fitted.’
I surprised myself when I laughed heartily with my daughter at that remark.
We shared the afternoon together before she left. I was glad she had come alone. Betty’s betrothed was no company for me. His questioning eyes fixed on me. I was not comfortable with him and we were merely civil with each other. Betty seemed not to notice or pretended not to do so. I was lonely for men’s company. But compared to what had happened to me, much worse had happened to others.
So many people had been injured in body and mind. People had lost their lives and property. This village of Salem had always been a litigious one, villagers fighting with each other and their pastors. Why did I not see this earlier that all these accusations came from malice? The villagers were too mean to support not just me, but any pastor, leave alone the meeting house. It had begun before I ever came to this God-forsaken place. It was a disgrace. God’s house in disrepair!15
It was not until 1697 two lawyers made sure that I was paid what was owed me.
Yes, Captain Walcott had been right all along. I would love to see him again but he was far away, I know not where.
Governor Phips had been his hero. I only saw his humble beginnings and was jealous of his rise to power. Governor Phips had pardoned all witches and the following year had dissolved the Court of Oyers and Terminer and set up the Supreme Court. He had been a good man. He was beginning to look frail. I wondered if he had many more years to serve.
Ann had made a public apology in great sincerity and with humble stance. She had used some of my words in my Meditations for Peace. Thankfully, the church had accepted her back and forgave her for her indiscretions as a child.
My thoughts turned to my beloved daughter. She had stayed with me throughout all my tribulations. She truly was her mother’s daughter.
The terror was ending. There were still names to be cleared and the compensation had to be given out. But we were out of the darkness, the abyss. And this escape from terror had all happened because of the actions of men from Massachusetts. I only wish I had joined them. This is my greatest disappointment. But I must bear it.
Footnote
15: In 1702 twelve ministers took up the banners to clear the names of so-called witches and wizards. Seven years later, twenty-one witches and their children were still hollering for their names to be acquitted. They joined with Philip English to claim compensation for financial losses. This was given in 1711. But not all of them were primarily interested in financial compensation. The family of Rebecca Nurse was more intent, however, on restoring her good name. They said they would not take a penny till the name of sister Nurse was cleared. It was not till 1712, on 2 March that the First Church in Salem revoked the excommunication of Rebecca Nurse, ‘that it may no longer be a reproach to her memory and an occasion of grief to her children’. Eventually some compensation was given. Philip English received nothing or almost nothing. Sheriff Corwin had seized his wharves, warehouses, and his gabled home. His wife died of shock. The sheriff died in 1697 and Philip English seized his body and held onto it till he complicated funeral plans and received sixty pounds and three shillings. Return