Children of Salem

governor of our wonderful experiment, this our colony.”

Nicholas Noyes muttered in the old man’s ear that perhaps he should save his strength, which Higginson shook off. “Knew Winthrop, yes, when hardly more than a boy. I’ve studied his life and have found no man’s wisdom greater than his, either as a statesman or a religious leader.”

Hathorne tried to capitalize on this. “I often use Winthrop’s wisdom in my courtroom.”

“You rule by Winthrop’s pronouncements then?” asked the round, balding Sewell.

“And yours, sir,” added Hathorne, holding up Sewell’s sermons.

“I should think you’d rule by God’s pronouncements,” countered Sewell.

“Of course, of course. Both Corwin and I do exactly that. I didn’t mean to imply other—”

“Tempered with Winthrop’s wisdom and that of Solomon?” asked Saltonstall with a quick grin.

Corwin returned the smile. “We do what we can.”

Stoughton corrected his loose powdered wig. Sir William had been knighted and made Chief Justice of the Colonies under Sir Edmund Andros, the Governor who had been literally torn from office and hung before cooler head could prevail as many had argued for his banishment, to have him placed on a ship sailing for England, to allow authorities there to deal with him. How Sir William Stoughton, the now Chief Justice, had achieved knighthood and position no one knew, and even more curious was how he’d weathered the storm when almost every official connected with the infamous Governor Andros had either been hung or tarred, feathred, and chased from the colony. Somehow this man Stoughton had escaped the stonings and the tarrings of those riotous days. And somehow he’d remained in office, untainted and untouched by it all. “Do you utilize the Pentateuch then in your deliberations?” asked Stoughton now.

“It is the law of Moses,” said Corwin, nodding.

“First five books of the Bible,” said Hathorne, sipping at his wine. “Written by Moses to convey the word of our Lord.”

“Good, solid law, solid teachings.”

Everyone agreed, a wave of yeses and nods going about the room.

“Moses was a great man and a great mind,” added Higginson. “His precepts are still applicable today, and if you interpret them correctly, you will not allow the telltale stories of spirits and hobgoblins and rumors of ghosts at bedtime to take the place of testimony of the sort required in a courtroom.” The effort left Higginson sorely coughing and hacking.

“So were you an Andros man, Mr. Hathorne?” asked Stoughton, pressing the point. “You never quite answered the question.”

Nervous laughter erupted from the others. Hathorne gritted his teeth, unsure how to put the truth. “I signed Andros’ oath of allegiance to the King, sir, same as you.”

This froze everyone. An icy silence filled the house until Stoughton said, “Go on, Mr. Hathorne.”

Corwin was visibly shaking, his drink in hand telling the tale.

Higginson wryly smiled, curious how this might go.

“I rule by the dictates of my Maker, sir,” began Hathorne, knowing that Stoughton could have him removed from office at any time. “And . . . and I did so the entire time that Andros was in power, tyrant that he was. If I must work within a system I find fault with, as at that time, that is if there is no recourse, then I ask God’s gracious guiding hand to guide my thoughts in guiding others . . . that is to help . . . ”

“Jonathan and I both followed Winthrop’s dictum,” said Corwin. “When human reason fails and war divides a land, fall to your knees and pray to God, and then do nothing.” Corwin laughed, raised his ale, and tried to lighten the moment.

“A good politician would agree,” said Addington, his pinched, severe features on the verge of a smile but not quite.

Judge Sewell, who’d also managed to remain in office through this difficult period, added, “Doing nothing is an acceptable maneuver in . . . in the face of overwhelming and difficult circumstances, after all.”

“Perhaps we ought to begin a political party and call ourselves the Do Nothings,” finished Stoughton.

A nervous laughter moved about the room.

Stoughton added, “Oh, I know the wait and see attitude is practiced most deftly by everyone in office, gentlemen, from our present Governor down. Do you wish to know what Governor Phipps has to say on your witch problem here in Salem?”

“Indeed . . . indeed we do,” said Higginson. “Here, here and about time he made some stand.”

“He says he’d rather fight Indians and invaders than shadows and spirits, that he wanted his shot and dagger to pierce something when he rode into battle.”

“He is a gallant man on a horse.” It was Nicholas Noyes’ summation of Sir William Phipps.

“The man has ended the Indian problem,” said Hale thoughtfully. “Leastways in the Massachusetts Bay Colony.”

“He’s gone to Maine to help see to the scourge there,” said Sewell.

Stoughton countered with a raised glass. “And perhaps to run from the scourge here.”

The others laughed.

“Meanwhile the jails in Salem are bulging with the indicted here,” replied Nehemia Higginson, drawing a stare from Addington. Higginson’s mind raced with many concerns. Members of the Superior Court, also called the General Court were trained in both the ministry and the law, as law was based on biblical strictures meant as common belief, custom, and rule. That men might cooperate and combine and grow in community and harmony. New England for the Puritans on these shores was the great purging, the starting over of God’s Eden, his New Jerusalem, a Utopia to be cherished and defended against any attack, perceived or otherwise. At the same time, despite the hold on the colonies by the King of England, most in Massachusetts and perhaps all the colonies found swearing an oath to any earthly king or governor—the king’s man—part and parcel of the old and perverted world across the sea. The contemptible, wicked, shameful, and sinful Old England of the Episcopal Faith. To such men, swearing an Oath to King William was to bend to the will of a tyrant and his petty tyrants sent to the colonies to collect taxes and to chain men for not genuflecting. Tyrants and tax collectors in black cloaks, men like Andros who made people sign in his book.

The Puritans had rejected both the Church of England and the Vatican; they’d run from England, braving all manner of danger to escape a tainted world, to escape the blood and poison of a toxic universe where kings bent the rule of law and the rule of God to their perverse and often greedy and self-serving ends. Some said the taint of England had come with them to the New World; that such things as witches and wizards had also come over right along with the wharf rats and other vermin.

Such men, and the sons of such men as Nehemia Higginson, stood in this room now, come together to fight this new threat to Utopia. “You men of Boston,” said Higginson, “know that we men of Salem agree with your politics. England has failed God, but we will not fail Him.”

This profound remark silenced the others. Higginson got to his feet with great effort, telling his underling, Noyes, to fetch his wrap and coat. He said to the others as he waited, “I can see you are men of learning, knowledge, theology, law—a nd that you are influential. All to the good. All to help us in Salem to heal. I pray you use your offices wisely, knowing you are men with a just cause—to end this damable witch hunt before it goes any further.”

No one responded, and the old minister, looking as thin and gaunt as a buzzard, allowed Noyes to help him on with cape and hat. Noyes helped him out the door as well, but the elder minister stopped at the entry and said pointedly to Stoughton, “Don’t forget what we talked about, Sir William.”

Stoughton cleared his throat and replied, “I will remember, Reverend sir. And thank you for taking such effort to be here.”

With Higginson and Noyes gone, Saltonstalll took center stage. “I think it time we magistrates conferred now in private, gentlemen.”

From the look Stoughton and Addington shared, it was time for the other ministers to follow old Higginson’s example right out the door, to leave them with the magistrates of the lower court to talk statutes and laws and precedent in a situation without precedent on these shores, and so to allow them to talk about the legal aspects of what was going on here.

Once every clergyman had bid adieu, Sir William Stoughton took charge, saying, “At last, gentlemen, we