Today in Salem: Three people are on the run, escaping arrest. Another six have spent the morning sweating and trembling in front of the magistrates. Sent to jail: a 75yo drunkard who’d once relieved himself in his friend’s house. An outspoken woman who’d been reprimanded years ago for calling her fellow church members fools and lackwits. A terrified, mentally ill woman who immediately confessed. A folk healer who’d left his family. A woman who’d lost a house, land, and goods to unpaid debts. Her daughter.
The real commotion begins in the afternoon, though, when former deputy John Willard enters the room. He’d also run away when he heard about his impending arrest. But after four days and a second arrest warrant, he’d been found, 40 miles away.
Running away is evidence enough that he’s guilty, but the magistrates don’t stop there. They want him to confess. They bear down with their questions, and they barely pause to hear him when he protests that he’s innocent. Then, when he takes a deep breath and bites his lip, the girls scream. He’s biting us, they wail. So the magistrates order him to keep his mouth open, which he does for the rest of the hearing.
The girls continue with their usual histrionics as depositions are read about the many ways he’s afflicted his family members. Has he bewitched his grandfather for praying for the Kingdom of Satan to be thrown down? Is it true that he beats his wife so hard that he breaks the sticks? He’s so confident in his speech – how does that square with someone who’s so afraid that he runs away?
Willard begs one of his neighbors to speak for him, but his response is damning. After a long pause, he says “I can say you have been very cruel to poor creatures.”
Still with his mouth open, still protesting his innocence, Willard tries to recite the Lord’s Prayer, but immediately makes a mistake when he adds “Maker of Heaven and Earth.” He starts again and misses again. He laughs at his mistakes, joking that he’s as bewitched as the girls are. But no one else laughs.
After an awkward pause, he tries again and gets farther, but skips a word. On the fourth He can’t say the prayer at all, and on the fifth attempt he claims “it is these wicked ones that do so overcome me!”
It’s obvious to the magistrates that he’s guilty, and they give him one more chance to confess.
“I desire to harken to all good council, but if it was the last time I was to speak,” Willard declares, “I am innocent.”
The magistrates don’t say anything. They just motion to the constable and send Willard to jail, where he’ll wait for future trial.
It’s almost anti-climactic when the pious Mary Esty is brought in. She’s been in jail for nearly a month, but the girls are no longer sure that it’s Mary who’s tormenting them. Mercy Lewis disagrees and claims that Mary is still afflicting her, but the magistrates have reached a decision and release Goody Esty to her tearful family.
LEARN MORE: What is the Lord’s Prayer? Why was it so important?
There were several tests that determined if a person was a witch. One of them was an inability to recite Scripture verbatim. A judge could use any piece of Scripture they wanted, and the Salem magistrates chose the Lord’s Prayer.
Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.
And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever. Amen.
Any faithful Puritan would have heard this prayer many times and memorized it, even if they couldn’t read or write.