A Letter from Reverend Hale

My Friend in Cambridge,

My pilgrimage to Salem to rid this town of either its superstitions or its daemons has fallen to its knees. These people are not afflicted by daemons so much as their own personal sins.

When I had arrived, I came with an expert eye towards the Devil’s wiles. Once I had seen my first patient, however, I recognize now that I myself had been beguiled. Not by the Ruler of the Depths, but by the hysteria that struck Salem. I was blinded by these hysterics, but soon I realized as much once I had seen what happened in court.

As you know, my friend, the both of us have been trained in the art of spotting Satan’s proxies. During these trials, this group of young girls would scream and cry that they were bewitched, that the one on the stand would bewitch them. Though with my eyes I saw nothing of what they did. Should the Devil truly be in the town, you know as well as I that there should be his proxy.

So after several of these trials, I decided to go by night to possible accused, and speak with them. I wanted to see myself if these people, good people who fear God in each, would be so far gone to Satan’s grasp that I could not retrieve them.

I visited Rebecca Nurse, you and I know her to be truthful in all she is. She was accused for bewitching a man’s pigs to die off, which was naught but falsehood. It was the man’s own incompetence in feeding and caring these beasts that ended their lives.

I visited many others, I’ll tell more detail once we meet again, but the most prominent would be John Proctor. His wife was accused by the leader of the group of girls, Abigail Williams. Looking back, he told me that this was for jealousy. During a hearing for his wife, John spoke that he had sinned, committed Adultery with Abigail of all women, and his words I knew to be true. He held back tears, his voice wavered. I could tell his repentance by his shaking hands and shaking