Drawing herself full and straight, Martha Corey said, “I do not know what to say, other than this child suffers from some fancy. They are all poor, distracted children.”
I told her, No, they are bewitched, so say we all. At that she bit her lip, and the children cried out that she does bite them, and they shewed the Marks upon their bare arms. Mrs. Pope, who is also afflicted, begged her stop, for she said Goody Corey did twist her in the bowels whenever she wrung her hands, and she threw her muff at the accused. When that did not reach its target, Mrs. Pope took off her shoe and threw it, striking Goody Corey in the head.
Abigail Williams cried out, “Do you not hear the drumbeat? Why do you not go join the devils assembling in the woods beyont?”
“Make her quit stomping her feet,” Ann Putnam said. “She is paining me in my own feet and will break my bones.” The little girl stamped her feet with great fury until Mrs. Corey stopped, and then so did the child.
“The woman is a Witch,” Mrs. Putnam said. “She came to me in the night and told me that she hath signed a covenant for ten years, with six gone and four to come. Even now, The Black Man whispers in her ear, can you not see? Ask her the catechism and trick the devil.”
My heart full of terror and pity, I strained to find any Black Man or Devil, but not being bewitched, all that appeared before mine eye was a frightened old woman. She seemed bewildered by all around her, and on the faces of her accusers and, indeed, on most of those gathered ran a look of hunger or anticipation. They strained to hear her words and would that they strain so much during our sermons or teaching, or even prayers. Searching for a proper question, I settled on a simple matter, asking, “How many persons be there in the Godhead?”
Her visage changed from agitation to peace, as though she knew the answer, and the correct answer—three—was on her lips, but her eyes clouded as she turned over the question in her mind. Perhaps she thought it a conundrum for which there was no correct solution, but no ruse was intended on my part. “Oft have I heard you teach, Mr. Noyes, on the matter, and I think there is but one person only in the Godhead and yet there is the Son of Man, the Holy Ghost, and the Father, and this is three, but only one come as a person.”
“A simple answer,” I said, “would reassure us of your meaning.”
“But there is no simple answer to the riddle of the Trinity, and I have spent my long life in understanding.”
Those assembled argued softly amongst themselves until Mr. Hathorne called for order. “I have read the depositions against thee, Goodwife Corey, and heard the testimonies of the Innocents, and am most dissatisfied by your answers—”
“You have no proof against me but the words of the misguided,” she said. “I am no witch.”
“The magistrates find otherwise, and I beg you confess.”
“How might I confess to that which is not true? Which is baseless Gossip?”
“By my order, you are to be sent to Salem prison and remain there until you confess your sin of witchcraft and consort with the devil and to testify against all those who worship him.”