July 23: A resistance takes shape

Today in Salem: The seeds of resistance are fully rooted and beginning to grow.

In May the former deputy John Willard quit after arresting what he considered to be innocent people. In June a judge quit for the same reason. Soon after that, a group of ministers sent a letter to the judges in protest of spectral evidence.

This month grassroots protests have begun to take hold, with 11 people testifying on the neighborly Elizabeth How‘s behalf, and 39 signing a petition to the governor for the beloved Rebecca Nurse.

Now the harsh John Proctor writes a letter on behalf of his fellow prisoners to several influential ministers. Yesterday’s torture of the teenage boys (as well as Proctor’s own son) shows that confessions are being forced and accepted, even when they’re inconsistent. He and his fellow prisoners are condemned before they’ve even had their trials.

Proctor begs the ministers to attend the trials and see for themselves what’s happening. He asks them to intercede and have the trials held at the larger court in Boston, or at least replace the judges with more unbiased ones. Just as important, he begs for their prayers.


Tomorrow in Salem: A letter finds its way

July 20: Seeds of doubt take root

Today in Salem: People are catching their breath. Yesterday was a whipsaw of emotion, with cheers at the hanging of the beggar Sarah Good, loud support for that of the widows Sarah Wilds and Susannah Martin, confusion at the execution of the neighborly Elizabeth How, and bewildered grief at the death of the beloved Rebecca Nurse.

The doubt extends to one of the judges, who is also a well-regarded minister. “Are much perplexed per witchcrafts,” he writes, in a letter to his cousin. “Six persons have already been condemned and executed at Salem.”

With the Rev Cotton Mather and other ministers, he attends a fast at the home of Captain John Alden, who’s been in jail for longer than six weeks.

Who croweneth thee
With His tender compassion
And kind benignity

they sing, after a day of fasting and praying. It’s no small thing for a judge to pray at the home of an accused man, but the judge is a minister after all.


Tomorrow in Salem: SUMMARY: Paying respects

July 19: *** Sensitive Content: Death by Hanging***

Today in Salem: The Sheriff is choking on the hot dust rising around his cart as it jerks along the dirt road. Five women kneel in the cart, three of them elderly, their hands tied behind them.

With only a single horse to pull the heavy cart, it’s a slow journey to the hanging tree, where a minister waits on horseback, an unsure crowd shuffling behind him. He’ll pray, of course, but it’s also his job to urge each woman to confess and repent for her sin. It won’t change her fate. She will die. But her heart will be lighter.

The cart has hardly stopped when the deputies begin to pull the women off, one at a time, until they reach the beggar Sarah Good.

“Stay” one of them commands, and puts up his hand. The gesture isn’t lost on Sarah. She lurches forward as if to attack, but her hands are tied, and she falls back into the cart.

“Confess!” the minister says, loudly enough for those in the back of the crowd to hear. “Repent for your lies!” Sarah takes a deep breath and erupts in a rage.

“You’re the liar! Take my life, and God will give you blood to drink!” she roars, spitting and twisting away from the deputy who’s holding her back. A second deputy kneels to tie her petticoats and legs together, and the crowd cheers when he yanks the hood over her head and tightens the rope around her neck.

“May God forgive you,” the minister says. With that, the sheriff’s cart pulls away, hard, and Sarah jerks in the noose, her body emptying itself in one last insult.

The smells of waste and sweat are overwhelming, but the deputy doesn’t slow as he carries Sarah’s body to one of the graves, then turns toward the sharp-tongued Susannah Martin. She’s quieter than Sarah, but no less furious and will not, will not confess. She dies more quickly, but not without kicking, hard, then swaying, until she’s impossibly still.

The now-friendless Elizabeth How doesn’t need to be pushed or lifted into the cart. She bends and steps awkwardly into it on her own, her hands tied behind her. She looks at her husband, and for the first time is thankful that he is blind, that he will not see her die. But she’s also determined that he will not hear it, so she just shakes her head when the minister urges her to confess, looking at her wide-eyed daughter one last time as the hood is pulled over her head.

By now the people in the crowd have noticed the unmarked graves. No Christian burial for these lying witches. They turn to watch the proud Sarah Wilds as she’s pulled roughly into the cart. She, too, has seen the graves, but looks away, staring instead at her only witness, her son, who’s mouthing “Look at me. Look at me.” And so she does, even when the minister tells her to confess, even when she refuses and insists that she’s innocent, staring into her son’s eyes even as she is hooded, then hanged.

Only one more hanging is left, and the crowd grows quiet as the elderly and beloved Rebecca Nurse is lifted carefully into the cart. “Will you confess?” the minister asks. “No,” she says. “I am as innocent as the babe unborn.” Her voice trembles and she looks into the crowd, where she can see her husband, her eight children, their husbands and wives, and some of her grown grandchildren. Friends and neighbors are here, too, and others who know her from church, holding their hats in their hands. This time the deputy is gentle when he pulls the hood down, even when he tightens the noose around her neck. Rebecca’s shoulders begin to shake, but she barely kicks when she falls from the cart, and many in the crowd begin to cry.


Tonight in Salem: Two men row slowly, trying to soften the sound of the water splashing against their boat. Light from the half-moon guides them around the bend of the river to the ledge where the hanging tree cuts a silent, black silhouette.

The men slide the boat with a quiet scrape onto the riverbank. With shovels and blankets the two begin to climb, their shoes scrabbling in the loose dirt. To be seen would be to invite disaster, so they make quick business of it and carefully dig her out, wrap her in the blanket, and carry her back the way they came. She’s heavier than they expected, and it’s a precarious slide down the steep bank. But they’re determined to bring her home, to risk everything to bring the beloved Rebecca Nurse home for the Christian burial she deserves.


Tomorrow in Salem: Seeds of doubt take root

July 18: The last goodbyes

Today in Salem: The grave digger is alone with the stones and the clay, digging, pulling, and throwing dirt with his shovel, thinking about last night’s eclipse of the moon. Red, it had been. Blood red, he can’t help thinking it. But, while the red shadow had disturbed him, it was the white crescent of light at the edge, growing smaller and smaller, that he can’t stop thinking about.

Tomorrow five women – five witches, he corrects himself – will hang. But the jails are full, with so many more people still to be tried. And the magistrates are arresting more every day. Is it possible that all of them are guilty? How many more graves will he need to dig? Will this dark shadow ever pass?

In jail the now-friendless Elizabeth How touches her blind husband, who’s just paid her final jail bill. The sharp-tongued Susannah Martin, widowed years ago, paces and mutters to herself. The rebellious Sarah Wilds, also widowed, whispers with her only son. The beloved Rebecca Nurse prays with her husband, an elderly artisan. And the beggar Sarah Good huddles in a corner, alone except for her 4-year-old daughter, who tomorrow will refuse all comfort.


Tomorrow in Salem: ***Sensitive Content: Death by Hanging***

July 15: SAYING GOODBYE: the neighborly Elizabeth How receives a visitor

Elizabeth How’s daughter is galloping by horse to Salem jail. Her father sits behind her. He’s fully blind, and his daughter has been bringing him to the jail twice a week to visit his wife.

As usual he has a leather bag of bread and butter for Elizabeth, plus money to pay her jail fees. Next time he’ll be empty-handed. What will he say? What can he say, except he’ll visit again, one more time?


Tomorrow in Salem: DARKNESS: a lunar eclipse

July 12: REVOKED: the beloved Rebecca Nurse’s fate changes

Today in Salem: Revoked. Rebecca Nurse’s reprieve has been revoked. Chief Justice Stoughton unfolds the letter and skims the formalities until he sees the sentence that matters: In their Maj’ties name William & Mary now King & Queen over England etc. you are commanded to cause Rebecca Nurse to be hanged by the neck until she be dead.

The letter is written in someone else’s hand, but it’s the Governor’s signature and wax seal. Someone – who? – has convinced him to undo his earlier decision. No more waiting. With a steady and firm hand, Stoughton signs a warrant for the executions of all five women:

the beggar Sarah Good
the now-friendless Elizabeth How
the sharp-tongued Susanna Martin
the rebellious and flamboyant Sarah Wilds

and finally, the beloved Rebecca Nurse

They will be hanged one week from today.


Tomorrow in Salem: War games

July 8: BRUISED: Elizabeth How

Today in Salem: The now-friendless Elizabeth How bunches her petticoats under her bruised knees and kneels to pray once again on the jail’s brick floor.

She’s been fasting and praying nearly every moment since she was condemned eight days ago. She knows she must die. God has ordained it. But she doesn’t know when, and the waters are rising fast around her. She has very little time to remove the stone in her heart, to prepare to meet God in peace.

So she prays to understand the judges, who were so quick to believe her accusers. Twelve people have testified on her behalf. How can the judges not see that she is innocent? Why hasn’t she been reprieved, like the beloved Rebecca Nurse?

She prays for the afflicted girls, who, for reasons she cannot begin to fathom, have turned on her so fiercely. Some of them are children, past the age of reason, but children nonetheless. Some are older, and seem to delight in their false accusations. Why? What has she done to wrong them?

Most of all, she prays for her neighbors, who’ve been so convinced for so long that she has hurt them. They are grieving for their young daughter, of course, and perhaps they are too afraid to blame God. But why her?

She cannot make sense of it. But she also cannot meet God with a hardened heart. So she stays on her bruised knees, hungry, seeking forgiveness.


Tomorrow in Salem: RESIGNED: the sharp-tongued Susannah Martin

June 30: GUILTY: the neighborly Elizabeth How and the flamboyant Sarah Wilds

Today in Salem: Three women have been tried for witchcraft this week, and one was hanged last month, but the court isn’t done yet. Two more trials are scheduled, both of them today: the neighborly Elizabeth How, and the flamboyant and aptly named Sarah Wilds.

The neighborly Elizabeth How stands trial

Elizabeth How walks quickly into the courtroom, energetic despite the dark circles under her eyes. She’s lain awake all night praying and trying to understand how she got to this point. But she knows the truth: though she’s surrounded by accusations, she is innocent.

Like always, the judges begin with the afflicted girls. They are swooning and seizing as usual, but recover when Elizabeth is forced to touch them.

Twelve or more people testify on Elizabeth’s behalf, including two ministers and her 94-year-old father-in-law. But it means little compared to the testimony of the two bereaved parents who are convinced she’s guilty. Several years ago, they’d watched helplessly as their ten-year-old daughter wasted away, growing smaller and thinner until she died two years later. During one fitful episode, the girl had accused Elizabeth of hurting her, but later took it back, even when prodded by her family. Still, there was no changing the parents’ minds. Who’s to say their daughter hadn’t recanted out of fear?

Other testimony follows, most of it from people who believe that she’d caused their cattle to die. But the courtroom crowd is shocked by one particular story: When a man refused to lend his horse to Elizabeth’s husband, the mare had stopped eating, her lips raw and swollen, and her tongue black and blue. When a treatment for belly-ache didn’t work, the man and his friend tried counter-magic: To attack any evil forces, they inserted a long-stemmed pipe of burning tobacco into the horse’s rectum. Immediately, a blue flame shot over the mare’s rump and flared toward the rafters of the barn. The next day the horse fell over dead. Clearly the magic of a witch – Elizabeth How – had triumphed over their counter-magic.

The support of a dozen people means nothing next to these statements. The judges pronounce Elizabeth guilty. She will be hanged.


The flamboyant Sarah Wilds stands trial

Sarah Wilds sashays into the courtroom, lifting her filthy petticoats just over her ankles. She’s pinched her cheeks until they’re rosy, and a wisp of hair curls out from her cap. She’s 65, and she’s been in jail for two months, but she will not let that change who she is. And she will not let the judges forget.

Sarah looks with disdain at the afflicted girls, already gasping and rolling on the floor, and points her chin when the judges say they have no accusations from “other” witches. What they do have, though, is story after story about her malicious acts, especially from the family of her husband’s first wife.

He had married Sarah only seven months after his first wife died. The family might have shrugged it off if Sarah was a godly woman. But they were all too familiar with her scandalous past. He was a good man. What could have made him marry such a salacious woman, and so soon after he was widowed? He must have been bewitched.

As a young woman, Sarah had been thought of as glamorous. When she was 22, she was whipped for fornication. Then, in her mid-30’s, she was brought to court for wearing fancy clothes that were above her station.

Sarah’s stepson had said she was a witch, and then died. Other family members were quick to chime in. Ruined crops, dead cattle, mysterious cats, broken carts – proof of her evil was obvious and endless.

Guilty.

Sarah doesn’t flinch when she hears the verdict. She just releases her petticoats and brushes them with her hands, the way she might brush off the ashes from a hearth fire, then turns toward the constable so he can escort her from the room.


Tomorrow in Salem: SUMMARY: 5 women against the world?

May 31: JAILED: the Pilgrim’s son

Today in Salem: Captain John Alden is standing in front of the magistrates, the latest in the parade of accused persons. He’s standing tall and calm, as anyone of his station would, parrying with the judges when he can, and ignoring the swoons of the afflicted girls.

Wenches, he thinks. Playing their juggling tricks. Falling down, crying out. Staring in people’s faces. His parents arrived at Plymouth on the Mayflower. He himself is a military commander, sea captain, and merchant. None of it matters, though. The girls have accused him, and now he’s here.

One of the girls is so limp that a court officer is propping her up so she can stand.

“Who hurts you?” the cruel magistrate Hathorne asks. The girl is silent, and points weakly at another military man. But when the officer who’s supporting her whispers in her ear, she recovers her strength, puts her finger down, and proclaims “Alden!”

“Are you sure?” Hathorne asks. Well, she’s never actually seen Alden in the flesh, she admits. But she knows it’s Alden who’s been afflicting her. She just needed someone to point out who he is.

It’s so crowded in the meeting house that people are sitting on windowsills and blocking the light, so the magistrates order everyone outside in the sunshine to get a clearer look at Alden.

“That’s Alden,” says the same girl. “He sells powder and shot to the Indians and French, and lies with Indian squaws, and has Indian papooses.”

While this is true, more or less, it has nothing to do with witchcraft. He’s an adventurous man who’s spent much time on the northern frontier, and stories with a grain of truth have grown into scandal (some of which is deserved). Again, though, it’s hardly the kind of evil a witch would practice.

After a lengthy break, followed by angry give and take, the magistrates send Alden to jail in Boston to wait for future trial. But it marks a permanent shift for the the jail keeper. He’s heard of John Alden, and holds him in high esteem. How could this be possible? Perhaps others in the jail are just as innocent. It’s still his responsibility to contain the prisoners, but after today he’s a little more compassionate with them.


About 15 people are examined and jailed today. The neighborly Elizabeth How and the crabby Wilmot Redd are both examined and sent to jail, based on little more than the afflicted girls’ torments. The outcast Martha Carrier’s own relatives are relieved when she’s sent to jail, with her hands and feet tied so her specter can’t hurt anyone between the meeting house and the jail.

John and Elizabeth Proctor’s son insists he’s innocent. The judges take an especially ruthless stance and order that he be hogtied, bound neck and heels for 24 hours or until he confesses. A gushing nosebleed ends the torture early, though.


WHY is this important?

Five years after the Trials began, the merchant Robert Calef wrote an account called More Wonders of the Invisible World. In it, he said the Trials led to “a Biggotted Zeal, stirring up a Blind and most Bloody rage, not against Enemies, or Irreligious Proffligate Persons, But (in Judgment of Charity, and to view) against as Vertuous and Religious as any they have left behind them in this Country, which have suffered as Evil doers with the utmost extent of rigour.”

In this book, Captain John Alden provided his own account of what happened to him. It’s one of the few first-hand narratives that survive today.

Also, that the magistrates could churn through about 15 examinations in one day shows what a machine the process had become.


WHO was John Alden?

John Alden was the oldest son of John and Priscilla (Mullins) Alden, who’d settled in Plymouth Colony in 1620, arriving on the Pilgrim ship the Mayflower.

John was in his mid-sixties when he was accused of witchcraft, and was a member of the Boston elite. He was a merchant, military commander, and sea captain, making several government-sponsored trips up and down the New England coast.

Alden was no stranger to scandal and gossip. At that time, northern New England, including Maine, was in a three-way tug-of-war between the English, the French, and the Native Americans. Raids and attacks were common, and when English settlers were taken captive they were frequently sent to Quebec. Alden participated in many prisoner ransoms and exchanges in French Canada; in fact, he spent so much time there that he was rumored to be selling guns to the French and their allied natives (not to mention sleeping with native women and siring several illegitimate children). It didn’t help that his interactions with the English prisoners were sometimes harsh, with some claiming he’d even left them behind for no good reason.

A few months before the witchcraft hysteria began, Alden’s ship was intercepted by a French frigate who captured the entire crew – including his son. Alden was released and sent to Boston to raise a ransom and arrange for a prisoner exchange, leaving his son behind in Quebec. His efforts were almost spectacularly unsuccessful (he managed to secure only six prisoners instead of 60). It was in the midst of this situation that Alden received a summons to appear in Salem Village, having been accused of witchcraft, then was sent to jail for several months. The French, losing patience with the delay, sent Alden’s son to the Bastille in France. It would be years before he returned home.

Alden spent four months in jail before escaping. His case was later dismissed, and he later contributed his first-hand account of his experience to Robert Calef’s More Wonders of the Invisible World.

Alden died ten years later at age 75. Nearly 170 years later, an excavation in Boston revealed old bones and gravestones, including the stone that had marked John Alden’s grave. The location of his remains is unknown, but his gravestone can be seen at the Old South Church in Boston.


Tomorrow in Salem: A summary in 3 letters

May 28: SHOEHORNED INTO JAIL: 11 more arrests

Today in Salem: The cruel magistrate John Hathorne is sweeping the breakfast crumbs from his desk, preparing to sign eleven more arrest warrants.

Hathorne has just returned from Boston, where he’s seen firsthand the dire situation in the overcrowded jails. More precisely, they’ve heard about it. Seeing it would have required walking into the overwhelming filth of the prison, where the the vermin are running free, the air is indescribably foul, and the wails and shouting are beyond imagining.

three crows

Witches deserve no better, though, so he orders all eleven of them to be arrested. Three of them have especially damning accusations:

The outcast Martha Carrier brought smallpox to the town of Andover, where 13 people died (including several members of her family). She and her husband have been pariahs ever since.

The neighborly Elizabeth How has a pleasantly ordinary life except for one long-standing accusation from a neighbor whose 10-year-old daughter died. The girl had convulsions, felt like she was being pricked by pins, and said – just once – that she wouldn’t treat a dog the way Elizabeth How treated her.

The crabby Wilmot Redd is widely reviled. She sells butter and milk that’s moldy and sour, and curses her neighbors mightily when they object. (She even caused severe constipation in revenge for a neighbor’s complaint.) Worse: she’s threatened children repeatedly. No one feels a twinge of concern on her behalf when they hear she’s been accused.


WHO was Elizabeth How?

Age 55, née Jackson. Married to James How, who was fully blind, and had six known children. Compared to many people, Elizabeth was thought to be friendly and a good neighbor. During her trial, at least twelve people testified on her behalf.

Elizabeth’s accusers fell into two camps: first, a family whose ten-year-old daughter was very sick, and claimed that Elizabeth’s specter was to blame. She took back her accusation, but after two or three years of illness, the girl died, and her parents continued to hold Elizabeth accountable.

Second, church members who then suspected her of witchcraft and wouldn’t let her join the church. Their gossip increased the number and fervency of accusations. Case files: Elizabeth How

Elizabeth How’s descendants include British fashion designer Alexander McQueen.

WHO was Wilmot Redd?

Age around 55. Redd had a reputation for being ornery and unlikeable. Case files: Wilmot Redd 


Tomorrow in Salem: A TANGLED WEB: an afflicted girl lies, again and again