the magistrates entered, in all their stern authority,
and the scene opened on the 1st of March, 1692.
A minister, probably Mr. Parris, began, according
to the custom of the times, with prayer. From
what we know of his skill and talent in meeting such
occasions, it may well be supposed that his language
and manner heightened still more the passions of the
hour. The marshal, of tall and imposing stature
and aspect, accompanied by his constables, brought
in the prisoners. Sarah Good, a poverty-stricken,
wandering, and wretched victim of ill-fortune and
ill-usage, was put to the bar. Every effort was
made by the examining magistrate, aided by the officious
interference of the marshal, or other deluded or evil-disposed
persons,—who, like him, were permitted to
interpose with charges or abusive expressions,—to
overawe and confound, involve in contradictions, and
mislead the poor creature, and force her to confess
herself guilty and accuse others. In due time,
the “afflicted children” were brought
in; and a scene ensued, such as no person in that
crowd or in that generation had ever witnessed before.
Immediately on being confronted with the prisoner,
and meeting her eye, they fell, as if struck dead,
to the floor; or screeched in agony; or went into
fearful spasms or convulsive fits; or cried out that
they were pricked with pins, pinched, or throttled
by invisible hands. They were severally brought
up to the prisoner, and, upon touching her person,
instantly became calm, quiet, and fully restored to
their senses. With one voice they all declared
that Sarah Good had thus tormented them, by her power
as a witch in league with the Devil. The truth
of this charge, in the effect produced by the malign
influence proceeding from her, was thus visible to
all eyes. All saw, too, how instantly upon touching
her the diabolical effect ceased; the malignant fluid
passing back, like an electric stream, into the body
of the witch. The spectacle was repeated once
and again, the acting perfect, and the delusion consummated.
The magistrates and all present considered the guilt
of the prisoner demonstrated, and regarded her as
wilfully and wickedly obstinate in not at once confessing
what her eyes, as well as theirs, saw. Her refusal
to confess was considered as the highest proof of
her guilt. They passed judgment against her,
committed her to the marshal, who hurried her to prison,
bound her with cords, and loaded her with irons; for
it was thought that no ordinary fastenings could hold
a witch. Similar proceedings, with suitable variations,
were had with Sarah Osburn and Tituba. The confession
of the last-named, the immediate relief thereafter
of the afflicted children, and the dreadful torments
which Tituba herself experienced, on the spot, from
the unseen hand of the Devil wreaking vengeance upon
her, put the finishing touch to the delusion.
The excitement was kept up, and spread far and wide,
by the officers and magistrates riding in cavalcade,
day after day, to and from the town and village; and
by the constables, with their assistants, carrying
their manacled prisoners from jail to jail in Ipswich,
Salem, and Boston.


