vain."[27a]

Those were harsh times, and many a man or woman showed heroic qualities
under the strain. The editor of Sewall's _Diary_ makes this comment upon
the silent heroism of the martyr, Giles Cory: "At first, apparently, a
firm believer in the witchcraft delusion, even to the extent of
mistrusting his saintly wife, who was executed three days after his
torturous death, his was the most tragic of all the fearful offerings.
He had made a will, while confined in Ipswich jail, conveying his
property, according to his own preferences, among his heirs; and, in the
belief that his will would be invalidated and his estate confiscated, if
he were condemned by a jury after pleading to the indictment, he
resolutely preserved silence, knowing that an acqittance was an
impossibility."[27b]

In the case of Cory doubtless the majority of the people thought the
manner of death, like that of Anne Hutchinson, was a fitting judgment of
God; for Sewall records in his ever-helpful Diary: "Sept. 20. Now I
hear from Salem that about 18 years agoe, he [Giles Cory] was suspected
to have stamp'd and press'd a man to death, but was cleared. Twas not
remembered till Ann Putnam was told of it by said Cory's Spectre the
Sabbath day night before the Execution."[28]

The Corys, Eastys, and Putnams were families exceedingly prominent
during the entire course of the mania; Ann Putnam's name appears again
and again. She evidently was a woman of unusual force and impressive
personality, and many were her revelations concerning suspected persons
and even totally innocent neighbors. Such workers brought distressing
results, and how often the helpless victims were women! Hear these
echoes from the gloomy court rooms: "September 17: Nine more received