As I left the monument, which is in the old family burying-ground, and wandered up the time-honored lane towards the homestead where she was living when arrested, the March before, my thoughts would go back to those dreadful days. I thought of this venerable mother's surprise and wonder, as she learned of the several distinct indictments against her, four of which, for having practised "certain detestable acts called witchcraft" upon Ann Putnam, Mary Walcot, Elizabeth Hubbard, and Abigail Williams, were still to be found in the Salem records. I thought of the feelings of this old and feeble woman as she was borne to the Salem jail, then a month later sent off, with other prisoners, to the jail in Boston (then a whole day's journey), to be sent back to Salem for her final doom. I pictured her on trial, when, in the presence of her accusers, the "afflicted girls," and the assembled crowd, she constantly declared her innocence ("I am innocent, and God will clear my innocency"), and showed a remarkable power in refuting the questions of the magistrate. I thought of her Christian faith and courage, when, upon seeing all the assembly, and even the magistrate, putting faith in the "afflicted girls'" diabolical tantrums (what else can I call them?) as there enacted, and now preserved in the records of the trial, she calmiy said, "I have got nobody to look to but God." I again pictured her, as, just before the horrors of execution, she was taken from the prison to the meeting-house, by the sheriff and his men, to receive before a great crowd of spectators the added disgrace of excommunication from the Church. But I could picture no more. My heart rebelled. And as I had now reached the old homestead on the hill I paused a moment, before entering, to rest under the shade of the trees and to enjoy the extensive views of the surrounding country. This comforted my troubled feelings, and suggested the thought that in the fourteen years that Rebecca Nurse had lived there she must have often come under the shade of the trees, perhaps after hours of hard work and care, to commune alone with her God. How could I help thinking so when there came up before me her answer to the magistrate's question, "Have you familiarity with these spirits?"--"No, I have none but with God alone." Surely, to one who knew Him as she did, who in calm strength could declare her innocence when many around her, as innocent as she, were frightened into doubt and denial, the quiet and rest of nature must have been a necessary means of courage and strength.