Ye Lyttle Salem Maide: A Story of WitchcraftMackie, Pauline Bradford
History
Ye Lyttle Salem Maide: A Story of Witchcraft
Mackie, Pauline Bradford
Salem (Mass.) -- History -- Colonial period, ca. 1600-1775 -- Fiction; Trials (Witchcraft) -- Fiction
Sir Jonathan was then asked to relate what he knew about the prisoner.
With much confidence he addressed the court. Deliverance was astonished
at the mild accents of his voice which had formerly rung so harshly in
her ears.
“I have had but short acquaintance with her,” he said, “though I may
have passed her often on the street, not observing her in preference to
any other maid; but some several weeks ago as I did chance to stop at
the town-pump for a draught o’ cold water, the day being warm and my
throat dry, I paused as is meet and right before drinking to give thanks,
when suddenly something moved me to glance up, and I saw the prisoner
standing on a block near by, laughing irreverently, which was exceeding
ill-mannered.”
At this Deliverance’s cheeks flushed scarlet, for she knew his complaint
was quite just. “I did not mean to laugh,” she exclaimed humbly, “but
some naughty boys had pinned a placard o’ the edge o’ your cape, and
’twas a fair comical sight.”
At this interruption, the seven judges all frowned upon her so severely
that she did not dare say another word.
“Now, while I did not suspicion her at the time,” continued Sir Jonathan,
“I was moved to think there was a spell cast upon the water, for after
drinking I had great pain and needs must strengthen myself with a
little rum. Later I met our godly magistrate and chanced to mention the
incident. He telled me the prisoner’s name, and how her vanities and
backslidings were a sore torment to her father, and that he knew neither
peace nor happiness on her account.”
At these words Master Wentworth started to his feet. “I protest against
the scandalous words uttered by our magistrate,” he cried; “ne’er has my
daughter brought me aught save peace and comfort. She has been my sole
consolation, since her mother went to God.”
He sat down again with his hand over his eyes, while many pitying glances
were cast upon him.
“Mind him not,” said one of the judges to Sir Jonathan; “he is sorely
afflicted and weighs not his utterances. Oh, ‘how sharper than a
serpent’s tooth it is to have a thankless child,’” and he glanced sternly
at Deliverance.
At these words, she could no longer contain herself, and covering her
face with her hands, she sobbed aloud, remembering all her wilfulness in
the past.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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