Crucible Epilogue

I knew that it had been a mistake. I had seen it in Elizabeth Proctor’s eyes as she realized that in trying to protect John, she had only condemned him. I had seen the guilt and fear that Abigail Williams had when John first accused her of being a whore. I had seen Rebecca Nurse before she’d been hanged; fear, innocence, and confusion on her face. There was no Devil in Salem.

I blame myself for the deaths; I did not see the lies in the accusations, and in the false afflictions. I did not notice that the girls were only acting, and I should have. I should have seen that they were only mimicking signs of being afflicted by witches, and I was made into a fool.

And now the town of Groton has claimed that the Devil has arrived, and witchcraft is upon them. I knew that I had to come, for fear of losing my reputation, but how can I tell them that there are no witches, when I have just had 18 innocent people hanged for just that?

Reverend Morris looked at me, his expectations clear in his eyes.

“It’s the Devil, isn’t it?” he asked, but it sounded like a demand, rather than a question.

“I could not pretend to know just yet,” I said. “I must take the time to examine the girls further.”

The Reverend shook his head in disbelief. “It has been a week! Surely there is nothing left to examine?”

I sighed. The symptoms were the same as they’d been before. How could I possibly claim that witches are not present, when Reverend Morris, along with the rest of the town, knows of what happened in Salem? How could I deny the presence of witches without casting doubt upon my good name?

Upon hearing no response, Reverend Morris continued, “Jane Davis is sick, the same as those girls in Salem. Why is this any different? She and Martha Elwins are being afflicted every night, and they are certain that it is Goody Brown. Why isn’t she punished for her sins? Why does she continue to walk through this town, as though she has done nothing?

“Because she has done nothing!” I snapped. “They are lies, Reverend, all lies!”

Reverend Morris stood there, staring at me, confused and offended.

“There was no witchcraft in Salem,” I mumbled, more to myself than to Reverend Morris. “They were innocent, every last one of them.”

“But—” his eyes furrowed in confusion. “The girls, the ones afflicted—”

I shook my head. “All liars. Followers of Abigail Williams.”

“But what reason would they have to do that?”

“Abigail was in love with a married man, and seized the opportunity to rid the world of that man’s wife,” I said.

“You lie, sir!” Morris said, exasperated.

“Please, Reverend Morris, do not hold my authority is such low esteem. I have no reason to lie to you about this, and if you would just listen, I could prove it to you.”

“But you do have reason, if you’re working with the Devil!” Morris exclaimed. His look of fear and uncertainty had disappeared, and been replaced with confidence and frustration.

“You cannot be accusing me?” I was bewildered.

Reverend Morris’ voice shook in anger. “I have just as much authority in this town as you, sir. Though you are practiced in the art of discerning where the Devil may or may not be, it doesn’t mean I can’t see a traitor of God when he stands right in front of my eyes.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but decided against it. I had to have proof. I had to show Reverend Morris that he had made a mistake, and that I was speaking the truth. I shook my head, unable to believe what I was about to do. I stood up, and walked out the door. I knew this was my last chance, but it was risky. Depending on Reverend Parris in a situation as grave as this may have been suicide, but it was the only hope I had.

I walked into the Town Hall. “Get a message out to Reverend Parris of Salem. Tell him that he is needed here, immediately.”

The man nodded, and walked out the door. I sat down in an empty chair, exhausted.  What have I done? I thought to myself. A few minutes later, Reverend Morris entered with the local judge.

“I am sorry, Reverend Hale,” said Judge Reaney, “but you have to come with me. Until we can hold a proper trial for you, we must hold you in the local jail.”

“Then I’ve been accused?” I asked as calmly as possible, staring down at my feet.

He nodded, and I stood up and went with him to the jail.

I knew it would be at least a great number of hours before Parris came, but in fact, it turned out to be two days. Two days of waiting for him to arrive, locked up in the local jail of Groton, doing nothing but sitting.

“Hale?” Parris asked as he walked into the jail. “What’s going on? They say you’ve been accused of witchcraft.”

“Yes,” I said. “I told them the truth of what happened in Salem, but they didn’t take it very well. They think the only reason for me to deny the presence of witches like that is if I am one myself.”

“But that’s insane!”

I nodded. “I know.”

“Don’t they know that a Reverend cannot be taken by the Devil?” he asked.

“No, they do not believe it. But all they need is another reliable, well-known voice to assure them of the falseness of witchcraft. If you would only—”

“Tell them myself, I understand.” Reverend Parris finished for me. He paused, considering the idea.

“If you’re worried about being accused and hanged by my side, I tell you; it will not happen. They will not condemn two men of God, they simply won’t.”

“Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll tell them the truth of what happened in Salem.”

I smiled, for the first time in a good, long while. The relief was so great, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I watched as the Reverend walked out of the jailhouse, and once again, I was left in a position of waiting. I was left in a position of depending on one man – Reverend Parris – to save my life.

Parris soon returned with Judge Reaney and Reverend Morris by his side. I tried to read the expressions on their faces, but couldn’t.

“Reverend Hale, if you will come with us,” Morris said, as Reaney unlocked my cell.

Confused, but still hopeful, I walked behind them. We headed toward the village houses, and I saw one in particular. The house of Jane Davis, the little girl who had first brought the idea of witchcraft to Groton. They had told me that she’d been sick for weeks, but until they heard about Salem, they had no idea of the reason for her condition. Immediately after the town started crying out that it was witchcraft, Jane had called out the name of her first victim that she was accusing of witchcraft, and that is when they called me.

I walked up to Jane’s room, behind Judge Reaney. Reverend Morris came behind me, and as we entered the room, I saw something I was not expecting.

“Good morning Reverend Hale,” she said, her head bowed in respect.

Jane Davis was sitting in her bed, looking completely healthy, with a smile on her face.

“But, I don’t understand—” I started to say.

“Thank you Reverend Hale. You have saved me. You have saved all of us.”

I looked at the child with a blank expression on my face. What did she mean?

Before any of my questions could be spoken aloud, I was led back out of the room.

“What’s going on?” I asked suspiciously.

“The child is better, and she believes you are the reason. She believes you scared the Devil away from Groton,” explained Reverend Morris.

“But—”

“Don’t argue, Reverend Hale, it’s not worth it,” Parris said quietly to me. “You and I can go back to Salem now, and that’s all that matters.”

I shook my head, knowing that what he was saying was wrong. It wasn’t all that mattered. Letting the world know the truth was what mattered. But I knew there wasn’t much I could do. I knew that I could give my life for my cause and still not make a difference. I knew that the best thing to do now is to just sit and wait, hoping that no other towns will cry out “witches”.