Introduction
It was the spring of
1692 in Salem, Massachusetts. The town was in a frenzy over the belief
that the quiet simplicity of their lives has been injected with the evil
seed of witchcraft. The fervor started when a teenaged girl, Abigail
Williams, to avoid punishment after she and the other girls of the town
were caught dancing in the forest late at night, claimed that she had been
bewitched . Following her example, the other girls joined in, and
made accusations against the townspeople for causing them to behave in
such a manner through witchcraft. Additionally, the girls started
suffering from peculiar afflictions such as sudden coldness and fainting
spells. Soon those accused as witches were put on trial and hanged
for their crimes against the girls and the Church. Realizing her
opportunity, Abigail accused the wife of John Proctor, the man she had
been having an affair with. With Goody Proctor out of the way, John
would be free to belong to Abigail, and she was determined that it would
be so.
John, one of the few
in the town with a sensible mind, rejected the idea that witches were responsible
for the girls' grief. Rather, he suspected it to be a concoction
of lies created by the girls themselves. Outraged by the apparent
lack of rationality in the judiciary officials as well as the commoners
for believing the girls' story, John made a desperate attempt to convince
the court of the falsehood and save the innocent people found guilty of
witchcraft. He had convinced one of the girls, Mary Warren, to tell
the truth and seek redemption for perpetrating deceit on the people of
the town. They now stand in the courtroom along with the head judge,
Danforth, the two other judges, Sewall and Hawthorne, and Abigail's uncle,
the Reverend Parris. Also present is the Reverend Hale who was brought
to the town as the expert to determine if witchcraft was indeed running
rampant in the town of Salem.
John stood with a strong
arm around Mary's shoulders, providing her with support in order to keep
her weakened body from collapsing into a heap on the floor. The stress
that had been imposed on her was so great that she barely had the strength
to stand, and she quivered with fear thinking about what she had come here
to do. It was easy to sign the document that John had written earlier
telling her confession. But now, in front of Judge Danforth, she
was as weak and timid as a newborn foal, with wobbly legs and a fear of
the imposing world around her. She looked at the piece of paper that
John clutched desperately in his hand, his arm outstretched in an appeal
to be heard.
"Mary Warren's deposition,
sir. She swears upon her immortal soul that she lied and her friends
lie now. They never saw Satan and no witch ever hurt them.
And this is the truth, sir," he pleaded.
Danforth took the document
from John's hand and read it carefully, word by word. That the paper
he held conveyed the real truth sank slowly and unwelcomedly into his being.
He would not, however, yield to the feeling and remained stalwart in his
decisions on the matter. In no way did he want to reveal himself
as a fool and subject himself to the wrath of the town and of God for putting
so many innocent people to death. The unfaltering stony expression
he wore on his face gave no one any indication of the doubt now planted
in his mind. After reading the last word, he raised his head and
looked at John.
Reverend Hale, who had been
standing by and witnessing the scene, felt the pit in his stomach deepen
with every second that ticked by. It was he that had originally been
the one to "judge" the presence of witches in Salem. He warned the
townspeople not to look on what was happening with superstition, and he
vowed to himself to remain neutral, but it was easy to get caught up in
the fantasy that had been created. After all, he was there and he
saw what was happening. He saw the girl who would not awaken and
heard her frantic parents blame it on the servant girl who had supposedly
cast a spell on their daughter. He watched as Abigail and the other
girls fell to the ground clutching their bellies in pain and pointing to
the "witches" causing them injury. He heard the accused proclaim
their innocence and their unrelenting devotion to God. He then heard
them admit their guilt of having an alliance with Satan to save themselves
from feeling the Hangman's noose. He had not squashed the ember he
saw glowing when he first arrived and now it was a raging fire that burned
out of control and consumed everything at a frightening pace. He
blamed himself for failing in his original task and was determined to help
right the situation as best as he could. "Excellency, clearly this
goes to the heart of the matter," he insisted.
Danforth turned to him and
gave a nod acknowledging his agreement.
Hale pushed on. "In
God's name, sir, a claim so weighty cannot be argued by a farmer; send
him home and let him return with a lawyer."
"Now look you, sir . . .
"
"I have signed seventeen
death warrants!" Hale cried. "This argument you must let lawyers
present to you!"
Danforth stared at Hale
and coolly replied,"For a man of such terrible learning, you are most bewildered,
Mr. Hale. Do forgive me. I have been forty-two year at the
bar, and were I called to defend these people, I promise you I should be
confounded." He then turned to address the entire company.
"Consider now that in an ordinary crime, witnesses are called to prove
guilt or innocence. But witchcraft is an invisible crime; therefore
who may witness it? The witch, and of course, the victim. Now
we cannot expect the witch to accuse herself, can we? Therefore we
may only rely upon her victims, and the children certainly testify!
Therefore, what is left for a lawyer to bring out?"
Hale attempted to
appeal with reason. "But this one claims the girls are not truthful......
"But that is precisely what
I am about to consider," Danforth asserted. "What more may you ask
of me? Mr. Herrick," he directed to the court's Marshall, "bring
the children here!"
As Herrick left the room,
Reverend Parris interjected, "I should like to question Mary."
Infuriated by the request,
Danforth responded,"Will you be silent!"
Shocked at the judge's sudden
outburst and embarrassed at being chided, Parris mentally defended himself.
After all, it was he who discovered the girls dancing in the forest that
first night. Given that, he thought that he might be useful in getting
to the bottom of the situation.
As they waited for Herrick
to return with the girls, the tension in the air thickened and the silence
was deafening. Finally, a knock on the door sounded the return of
Marshall Herrick.
"Enter!" Danforth yelled.
The thought of having to
face Abigail and the other girls broke Mary down and she began to cry.
She watched as they walked to the bench Danforth indicated to them to sit
in. Of course Abigail was in front, leading them on as she had done
through the whole thing. Knowing this filled Mary with increasing
dread. She knew that she was on her own unless Abigail confessed,
because the power that Abigail had over the other girls was immense indeed.
Danforth directed his attention
toward the girls. "Children, the Bible damns all liars." He looked
at each girl individually as he spoke. "Your friend, Mary Warren,
has given us a deposition stating that she never saw familiar spirits,
and was never attacked by any manifest of the Devil. She claims as
well that you never saw these things either, and that you are all pretending."
Turning to Proctor and Mary he said "Now it may be that Satan has conquered
Mary, and sent her here today to distract our sacred purpose. If
so, her neck will break for it."
Upon hearing this Mary's
strength faltered and she leaned more heavily on John. He, in turn,
worried that he had not done right in vehemently convincing her to confess.
The judge continued.
"But if she speak true, I bid you all, confess your pretense now.
A quick confession will go easier with you. Abigail Williams, is
there any truth in this?"
"No, sir," replied Abigail
innocently.
"Did you see Goody Proctor's
spirit and did she stab you as you have charged?" questioned the judge.
"Goody Proctor sent her
spirit and it stabbed me."
After hearing this Danforth
turned toward Proctor. "If she is lying, it can only mean she would
see your wife hanged."
Knowing that admitting his
affair with this girl would ruin him, the thought of her having this power
over him and the town urged him on. "She would wish that, sir."
"This child would murder
your wife?"
"It is not a child." Proctor
struggled with his conscience and his pride. He did not know if he
truly possessed the strength to confess of the sin he had committed with
Abigail. He thought back to the day when she pointed her soiled finger
at his wife with.the charge of witchcraft. She showed no regret or
remorse, but smiled victoriously. It was only for an instant, but
John saw it as if it were the sun scorching his face on the hottest summer
day. With that thought in mind he shouted, "It is a whore, Mr. Danforth!"
"He lies, he lies!" Abigail
screamed.
Proctor would not be silent
any longer. "I have known her, sir. I have known her."
Astonished, Danforth asked
"In what time, what place?"
"In the proper place, where
my beasts are bedded. My wife, my dear good wife saw her for what
she is and put her out on the highroad. And being what she is, a
lump of vanity, she thinks to dance with me on my wife's grave. And
well she might. God help me," he cried, "I lusted! For this
is a whore's vengeance now." He bowed his head as his spirit was almost
completely broken. "I place myself entirely in your hands now."
Blanched, Danforth turned
his attention to Abigail. "Do you deny every scrap and speck of this?"
he provoked.
Feeling that she was now
on shaky ground she became defiant to combat the assault against her.
"If I must answer that question I will leave and never come back, and I
will tell the world that Satan has won Salem!"
"Your Honor," Proctor pleaded,
"what man will cast away his good name?"
Danforth's gaze grew heavy
on Abigail as he scrutinized the girl before him. She felt the entire
weight of it and his eyes burned right through her. She felt as if
her body was on fire. Unable to withstand anymore she yelled.
"What look do you give me! I will not have such looks!" With her
hands balled into fists by her side, she turned sharply and started for
the door.
"You will not leave this
room!" The sound of Danforth's demanding and angry voice stopped her in
her tracks.
"Mr. Parris, go to
the jail and bring Goodwife Proctor here."
Parris objected to the judge's
request. "Excellency, this is all a snare!"
"Bring her!"
Knowing he would not win
the battle, Parris obeyed the request and left for the jail.
"Now we shall touch the
bottom of this swamp. Your wife, Mr. Proctor, you say is an honest
woman."
"In her life, sir, she have
never lied," he attested, hoping to assure his wife's integrity.
Danforth continued.
"And when she put this girl out of your house, she put her out for a harlot,
and knew her for a harlot."
"Aye, sir, she knew her
for a harlot."
With that, Danforth confronted
Abigail. "If she tell me, child, it were for harlotry, may God spread
His mercy on you!"
Outside they could hear
the rumble of the wagon as it approached the courthouse. For John,
each second that passed seemed to last an eternity. He felt like
he was in Hell being punished for his sins. God had slowed down the
hands of time to keep John from being saved by his wife. His good,
loving, faithful wife. He thought that he couldn't ever in his life
have a moment worse than this. Then came the knock on the door.
"Hold!" shouted Danforth.
He peered at Abigail. "Turn your back!"
Her mouth fell open in angry
protestation.
"Turn your back!"
Her eyes narrowed and she
turned slowly showing her reluctance.
Danforth then directed John
to do the same. To all he said, "No one may speak or gesture aye
or nay. Mr. Herrick, report this testimony in all exactness." Then
he raised his voice and yelled "Enter!"
Elizabeth Proctor entered
the courtroom. Her sunken expression gave testament to the worry
for herself and her family that had filled her days. Her clothes
and hair were soiled from having been in the jail for a long period of
time. She searched the room with her eyes hoping to find John.
"You will look at me only,
Goody Proctor, in my eyes only," commanded Danforth. "We are informed
that at one time you dismissed your servant, Abigail Williams."
Elizabeth nodded.
"Why? For what cause?"
Danforth prodded.
Elizabeth tensed, looked
to John.
"You need not look at your
husband, the answer is in your memory! Why did you dismiss Abigail
Williams?"
She knew well enough what
was in her memory. She had agonized over the truth for many days
and nights. Her husband had bedded down with another woman.
No, not a woman. A girl. The girl that stayed in their house
and helped care for their children. It was Abigail. The memory
of the day that John had confessed to her was as vivid in her mind as if
she were reliving it. And she did relive it, every day. But how could
she stand there and tell the world of what her husband had done?
She couldn't. She simply said "She dissatisfied me . . . and
my husband."
"In what way, dissatisfied
you?" asked Danforth.
"She were...... She
again looked at John.
Danforth was becoming angry.
"Look at me! Were she slovenly? Lazy? What was it?"
Elizabeth could feel herself
start to break down. "Your Honor, I . . . My husband is a good and
righteous man. He's never drunk or wasting his time at the shovelboard,
but I were a long time sick last year, and I thought I saw him turning
from me. And this girl . . ."
Danforth became increasingly
impatient. "What of Abigail Williams?"
"I came to think he fancied
her. . . and so on one night I lost my wits, I think, and put her out on
the highroad."
"And did he indeed turn
from you?"asked Danforth.
"He . . ." She paused.
She was on the verge of revealing the truth. If she did it she would
save herself. But she could not save the others who stood accused
and those who had already died. She could, however, save John.
She could not betray him. It was the most unselfish thing she could
do and she wanted to do it. At the risk of damning herself and losing
the grace of God, she would lie for him.
Danforth had had enough
of her stalling. Forcefully he asked, "To your knowledge has John
Proctor committed the crime of lechery? Is your husband an adulterer?"
Barely able to speak, Elizabeth
replied "No, sir."
Outraged, Danforth yelled
to Herrick. "Remove her!"
John's world collapsed around
him, but not for the fact that she had let him down. She had lied
for him and the thought that she would go against what she believed in
for him made him feel that there was no redemption for what he had put
her through. Desperately he cried out to her. "Elizabeth, I've
confessed it!"
She felt her legs giving
way. "Oh God!" She collapsed.
Elizabeth was taken from
the courthouse and Abigail, realizing that she had won, began an assault
on Mary to punish her. The other girls followed suit and Mary was
left pleading with them to spare her from the torment. Once the questioning
eyes of Danforth fell upon her, she was consumed with fear of being hanged
and accused John of bewitching her. He was then taken away and put
in jail. It was determined that Elizabeth was with child, so her
life would be spared until she gave birth. In a desperate attempt
to save John's life, Reverend Hale appealed to her to convince John to
confess to witchcraft so that he would not hang. She refused saying,
"He have his goodness now. God forbid I take it from him." In the
end, John would not confess to witchcraft and was consequently hanged.