How to Kill a Witch: The Patriarchy's Guide to Silencing Women by by Zoe Venditozzi and Claire Mitchell

A lawyer and an educator meet at a mutual friend’s wedding. They’re both “quarrelsome dames” looking for a cause. They discover thousands of Scottish women have not received justice for being accused of witchcraft from the early 16th century to the mid-18th century. The two campaign for (1) apologies for the accused; (2) pardons for those convicted; and (3) a national memorial for the victims. in 2020, they create a podcast called Witches of Scotland, to interview experts on the Scottish witch-hunts. Their book, How to Kill a Witch, highlights much of what they learned through profiles of accused witches at different times and places throughout Scotland.

For me, Zoe Venditozzi and Claire Mitchell’s book revealed why the British witch trials were different from continental Europe’s. German cleric Heinrich Kramer’s Malleus Maleficarum (1486) was published years before the Witchcraft Act of 1563 became law in the British Isles and its colonies. England and Scotland each had separate rulers, laws, churches, and beliefs. The English hanged their witches, while the Scots typically strangled them and burned their bodies so the evil forces wouldn’t rise again.

In 1590, James VI of Scotland (1566-1625) attended the first major witch trials in Scotland, where Agnes Sampson and others were executed for using witchcraft against the king’s own ship. In 1597, James published his own treatise, Daemonologie, on witches, enchanters, and demons. Following the death of Queen Elizabeth I (1533-1603), James also became king of England. His book was reprinted for the occasion.

How to Kill a Witch explains the ways God and the Devil interacted, what courts considered a confession or proof of witchcraft, which torture methods were used, and how many of the victims’ names and stories were lost. It also recognizes how sexism and abuse of power erase people and history.

With humor and anger at the betrayal, condemnation, and execution of these Scottish women, Claire and Zoe help us envision the accused and the world they lived in while also recognizing the dangers of misogyny in our lives today.

Thanks to Sourcebooks for the ARC.

With a background in ancient history and literature, author Alexis Hannah Prescott explores how Greek and Roman gods and folklore transcend time and place in her book, The First Witches: Women of Power in the Classical World

The western world so admired the classical arts, culture, and history that centuries later schoolboys applying to the newly founded Harvard College in the 1630s had to be well versed in Latin grammar. And once enrolled, they studied Latin, Greek, and Hebrew. 

Curiously, students were reading classical texts imbued with the power of witches and witchcraft, which is incompatible to the Bible’s warnings. The Bible mentions forbidden practices such as divination, consulting with mediums or familiar spirits, interpreting omens, casting spells, and necromancy, though without much detail. The problem with witchcraft is in trying to manipulate spiritual forces instead of asking God for help. And the punishment for contacting demonic spirits is not being able to inherit the kingdom of God. 

In case you’re not a classical scholar, Prescott provides synopses of major works—like Homer’s Odyssey, Virgil’s Aeneid, Ovid’s Metamorphoses, and Lucan’s Erichtho—to explain the archetypes of Greco-Roman witches. As they transform from the strong, attractive but vindictive Greek witch to the bitter, haggard Roman one, Prescott mentions how dramatic social and political changes affected witches (and women’s) roles in society and in literature. 

The author also makes the point that witch hunts in Britain and the 13 Colonies were not based on the King James Bible (1611). Being able to read and have access to the Bible was mostly limited to the upper classes and to clerics. (Puritans in the Massachusetts Bay Colony, however, made education a priority. They learned to read so they could study the Scriptures.) King James himself was extraordinarily concerned about witchcraft—believing witches caused the tumultuous seas that delayed his bride Anne of Denmark’s arrival in England—so much so that he wrote Daemonologie (1597). 

At the Salem witch trials in 1692, judges and some of the jury attended Harvard. They studied Greco-Roman literature featuring attractive, alluring Greek witches with deadly streaks of hostility, and Roman hag witches who torture, maim, and sabotage men. Classical witchcraft, mixed with regional folktales and backed by the Bible, was real in the dark woods and villages of Massachusetts Bay. A cursing beggar woman, a healthy cow that suddenly drops dead, sleep paralysis while dreaming of your neighbor, or shapeshifters in the shadows—what else could it be except witchcraft?

Prescott covers the witch’s metamorphosis from classical antiquity to the modern day, using literary characters we may be more familiar with, like Snow White’s wicked stepmother, Dr. Frankenstein, and Shakespeare’s weird sisters in Macbeth. Since the 1960s, she notes, Wicca and other trends have changed the classical witch dynamic. 

Or maybe it’s the women taking back their power.

Thanks to Pen & Sword History for the ARC.

Sophie Saint Thomas’ latest book* tackles reproductive rights, systemic injustices, and lack of bodily autonomy issues for women throughout the ages. According to an old medical papyrus, she writes, it’s been proven that ancient Egyptians used birth control and emmenagogues or abortifacients. Through withdrawal, suppositories, barrier methods, and nature’s own herbal pharmacy, earlier peoples learned by trial and error how to limit or encourage pregnancies as needed.

While misogyny certainly existed back then, it grew exponentially with the Roman Empire converting to Christianity—and controlled by (purportedly) celibate, cloistered men. After all, German monk Martin Luther (95 Theses) said “let [women] bear children to death. … They were created for that.” Although Catholic church policy was against birth control, some leaders like Saint Augustine of Hippo believed abortion was acceptable before a clearly human shape formed or the “ensoulment” of a fetus occurred.

For witches, Saint Thomas includes French midwife, abortion provider, and fortuneteller Catherine Monvoisin, who also provided deadly poisons and performed Black Masses for her clients. She was burned at the stake for witchcraft in 1680. In more modern times, Laurie Cabot (b. 1933) was designated the Official Witch of Salem in 1977 by the Massachusetts governor.

For witch hunts, Saint Thomas relies on Stacy Schiff’s The Witches: Salem 1692—a book lambasted by Jane Kamensky in the New York Times—causing her to repeat debunked information. For example, trial documents refer to Tituba as an Indian servant. After being released from jail, she disappears from the historical record yet later becomes known as Tituba the Black Witch of Salem. Saint Thomas says, “this indicates that she was associated with black magic … [but] it could also have a more straightforward explanation: her skin color.” Fifty years ago, Chadwick Hansen proved that Tituba’s metamorphosis from an Indian to a Black person occurred and was based on prevalent 19th-century racism, which in turn made Tituba the scapegoat for the Salem witch trials (New England Quarterly, March 1974).

For centuries, witches have been associated with Satan, since the (female) witch’s power comes from her pact with the (male) Devil. Between Anton LaVey’s Church of Satan and the Satanic Panic of the 1980s, Saint Thomas shows how wild ideas about devil-worshipping sex groups, Black Masses, and child sacrifices became rampant in the news. And that’s how the Christian right uses Americans’ fears to demonize any person or movement supporting reproductive rights.

Written in a pop-history style, Saint Thomas makes accessible 4,000 years of health care. With Roe v. Wade overturned in 2022, reproductive justice is on the ballot in 2024. The difference between the Republican and Democratic platforms are starkly different. As a reminder, Saint Thomas points out that Justice Samuel Alito cited 17th-century jurist Matthew Hale when announcing the Supreme Court’s Dobbs decision: “Hale asserted that marital rape could not constitute a crime.” Your vote matters.

Thanks to Running Press for ARC.

*This book covers political issues, bodily autonomy, and religion framed within the historical and contemporary witch hunts context. It is a book review, not a political opinion piece.

    In Witchcraft: A History in Thirteen Trials, Marion Gibson argues that witch trials from the late Medieval period to today were motivated not by the Bible but by demonology.

    In the Massachusetts Bay Colony, the 1641 Body of Liberties laws do draw from the Bible, including “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live” (KJV, Exodus 22:18). But devils were destructive forces frequently mentioned in witch trials. Demonology mostly focused on women—the weaker sex—succumbing to the forked-tongue lies of Satan’s minions. Misogyny was rampant, especially in male-dominated arenas like religion and government. Over the last 700 years, in fact, the most common trait of a witch was being female (though not all the accused were).

    As Gibson discusses, German churchman and demonologist Heinrich Kramer (c. 1430-1505) failed in his first attempt to destroy the “witches” of Innsbruck, Austria. But afterwards, he wrote the exceptionally popular Malleus Maleficarum in 1487, also known as The Hammer of Witches. By 1600, about 45 demonology titles were published in Western Europe, including one by King James VI of Scotland (later James I of England). These books were widely circulated among churchmen, rulers, the upper classes, and scholars—including Judge William Stoughton and ministers Cotton Mather and Samuel Parris, all of whom influenced the Salem witch trials in 1692.

    For the Salem story, Gibson focuses on “Tatabe,” Parris’ Indian servant who had a prominent but short-lived role early in the Salem witch trials. Under duress, Tituba (falsely) confessed to practicing witchcraft but was not executed, while the ones who claimed their innocence at trial were. Instead of the power of Tituba’s testimony and its many parallels to British witchcraft beliefs, Gibson concentrates on the hypothetical Arawak birth story from Elaine Breslaw’s Tituba, Reluctant Witch of Salem. Highlighting those parallels would have helped to debunk the voodoo myths surrounding Tituba, often told by misguided writers and tour guides who haven’t delved into the original records.

    Thirteen Trials includes cases from Europe, Africa, and the Americas, covering a wide variety of situations, cultures, and time periods. It’s a fascinating read, with each history connected to the underlying premise of misogyny and violence against women.

    Today, in Salem and elsewhere, “people who have redefined witchcraft and embraced the identity of ‘witch’” embody the medieval demonologists’ worst nightmares (ch. 13).

    But the struggle continues.


    See also: Tituba, Indian Servant of Mr. Samuel Parris

    A few of my short reviews of witch trial-related books, both fiction and nonfiction.

    Nonfiction

    Death in Salem: The Private Lives behind the 1692 Witch Hunt by Diane E. Foulds. Victims, accusers, clergy, judges, the elite all receive a 1-to-3-page biography. Author used a lot of secondary sources, some of which have been updated by other witch-hunt experts and genealogists, and she didn’t track that. The bios read like stories. No source citations for facts or conclusions, so not useful as a resource book.

    Records of the Salem Witch-Hunt by Bernard Rosenthal, et al. Painstakingly transcribed by experts in their field, RSWH includes all 977 Salem witch trial records known to exist in all known repositories. It easily surpasses the Boyer and Nissenbaum Salem-Village Witchcraft transcriptions. If you’re serious about the Salem witch trials, this book is a must-have. Plus, the first 100 pages with the general introduction, legal procedures, and principles (linguistical, editorial, and chronological) behind the project are not to be skipped. My much-used copy is always within reach.

    A Salem Witch: The Trial, Execution, and Exoneration of Rebecca Nurse by Daniel A. Gagnon. Best biography of one of the victims of the Salem witch trials. Gagnon is really good at debunking myths too.

    A Season with the Witch: The Magic and Mayhem of Halloween in Salem, Massachusetts by J.W. Ocker. I love Salem and I enjoyed reading this travelogue, history, and personalities book. Ocker and his family spent the month of October in Salem, Massachusetts, to write this book.

    Storm of Witchcraft: The Salem Trials and the American Experience by Emerson W. Baker. My top choice for reading about the Salem witch trials.

    Witch-Hunt: Mysteries of the Salem Witch Trials by Marc Aronson. Young Adult (YA) title that succinctly explains the events of 1692 and reviews the various theories and books written on the subject. I often recommend this book to people who are learning about the Salem witch trials.

    Fiction

    Conversion by Katherine Howe. The high-pressure, competitive life of senior girls at a posh private school manifests itself into physical illnesses, much like the 1692 outbreak in Salem Village. I really enjoyed this book.

    Deliverance from Evil by Frances Hill. Deliverance from Evil is an interesting yet frustrating novel centered on accused witch George Burroughs and his third wife Mary. Author Frances Hill admits she “invented [Mary’s] story, personality, and appearance. The part of the novel concerning her journey from Salem to Albany is pure fiction, as is the relationship between her and Peter White.” (And Peter White is a totally made up character.) Having written several nonfiction books on the Salem witch trials, I’d expect Hill to have done better research. Years before she wrote this book, well-respected genealogist David L. Greene discovered George Burroughs and wife Mary had a daughter Mary (b. 1690-1692) and after his death, his widow married (second) Boston, 13 July 1693, Michael Homer, and married (third) Cambridge, 5 February 1699/1700, Christopher Hall Jr. (The American Genealogist, January 1980). So much for the fictional Peter White and their happy ending!

    The Heretic’s Daughter by Kathleen Kent. My top recommendation for fiction is this richly detailed, historical novel on the life of accused witch Martha Carrier. Well written and researched. In the end, you’ll wish that little red book was real.

    The Lace Reader by Brunonia Barry. Set in Salem, this is one of those books where I reached the end and I wanted to read it again, immediately.

    The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane by Katherine Howe. This book answers the question: What if some of the accused were witches during the Salem Witch Trials? (BTW, they weren’t!) I really enjoyed this book. But I was disappointed that the author decided to change history and have Deliverance hanged with the other witches. In real life, she was released from prison and survived.

    Tituba: The Intentional Witch of Salem by Dave Tamanini. Since Rev. Parris’ servant, Tituba, was Native American—not Black as portrayed in this book—I couldn’t get past that fact, especially for a book published in 2020. Curiously, this novel won an award from the Afro American Historical and Genealogical Society.

    The Witch of Blackbird Pond by Elizabeth George Speare. Reading this Newbery Award-winning novel again, I was struck by the stark differences between Kit Tyler’s life in Barbados compared to hers in Connecticut: The colors, the beautiful and stylish clothing, the sunny attitude and freedom of island life compared to the austere, forboding disapproval of the countryfolk. It made me think: How did Samuel Parris adjust as he moved from Barbados to Boston and Salem? This story is vibrant with 17th-century details, memorable characters, and swirling accusations.

    Curious what plants were well-known by the 17th-century Massachusetts Bay colonists, I delved into Michael Brown’s new book, Medieval Plants and Their Uses. Planting and harvesting were essential to the survival of communities. Besides food and medicinal purposes, though, could plants have been involved in the Salem witch trials? After all, one widely debunked hypothesis claimed ergot poisoning could have caused the witch hunt.

    According to Brown, during wet weather a parasite caused fungus to grow on rye. Since grains were processed at the local mill, ergot poisoning could spread far and wide. Ergot-related mass casualties occurred in continental Europe but notably not in England, where wheat was the popular grain.

    Also known as St. Anthony’s Fire, ergot poisoning could cause “hallucinations, convulsions, erratic behavior, or gangrene; death was common.” While some of these symptoms were apparent in the Salem courthouse in 1692, their underlying causes could be many different health issues. Plus, not every local household or family member displayed symptoms—which would happen if they shared bread—so it’s unlikely that ergot poisoning was a cause of the witch-hunt.

    Planting the colony

    From the start of the Great Migration, ships came from England with plant cuttings and seeds to grow crops and herbs for food, flavorings, and medicines. Recipes were passed down and shared, like making tansy tea for worms; using vinegar, salt, and honey for cleaning and sterilizing a wound; and eating dandelions to encourage urine flow.

    Living on Will’s Hill, the tightknit Wilkins clan may not have been privy to the diuretic dandelion remedy. Patriarch Bray Wilkins reported “my water was sodainly stopt, & I had no benefit of nature, but was like a man on a rack” and accused his grandson-in-law John Willard—an outsider—of causing his bladder issue and his grandson Daniel Wilkins’ death. When a “skillful” woman’s remedies didn’t work, she asked Bray if any “evil persons” did him damage. He said he was “sore afraid they had.” Afflicted accuser Mercy Lewis even said she saw John Willard on his grandfather Bray’s belly. Bray later claimed it was not him “but the testimony of the afflicted persons and the jury … that would take away [John Willard’s] life if any thing did, & within about 1/4 hour after this I was taken in the sorest distress & misery my water being turned into real blood, or of a bloody colour & the old pain returned excessively as before which continued for about 24 hours together” (RSWH 528). It’s clear Bray’s urine retention was a real illness, such as an enlarged prostate, and not a witch’s curse. Yet John Willard was executed for witchcraft on 19 August 1692.

    Brown also covers plants with religious associations and magical powers. For instance, Rev. John Hale could have put calendula under his pillow to reveal in dreams that Dorcas Hoar was stealing from him. Saint John’s wort could have expelled the demons from Rev. Samuel Parris’ home while mugwort could have kept ghosts and evil spirits away.

    Besides offering insight into historic diets and medical remedies, this book covers common, everyday usage of plants for housekeeping, laundry, animal health care, beauty treatments, and even aphrodisiacs. Well illustrated with photos, Medieval Plants and Their Uses concludes with a few original medieval recipes, a list of plants (their medical and/or practical uses, name variants), and suggested reading.

    Brown provides an accessible and fascinating insight into the uses of medieval plants.

    Prerelease book provided by NetGalley and Pen & Sword Books Ltd. for review consideration.

    When you visit Salem, Massachusetts, you discover the city has many modern witchcraft shops, especially in the tourist areas of Essex Street and the wharf. It’s odd because the 20 people executed in 1692 for the capital crime of witchcraft were not, in fact, witches.

    In Teaching Witchcraft: A Guide for Students and Teachers of Wicca, Miles Batty says witchcraft is not Devil worship or Satanism. Yet that’s what they were convicted of in 1692, even the stoutest of Puritans. The convicted witches were accused of harming people and animals, signing the devil’s book, or even trying to overthrow the Puritan church.

    In contrast, present-day witches follow a rule to harm none. They celebrate seasonal changes, nature, the moon and stars, the god and goddess, and/or pre-Christian deities. Despite the blend of pagan ideology, Batty explains, their practices were not passed down through the centuries. Modern witchcraft began in the late 19th century, was influenced in the 1920s by the (largely discredited) works of Margaret Murray, expanded through the teachings of Gerald Gardner, and captured the imagination of the 1960s. Today’s witch has nothing in common with the accused witches of 1692.

    Batty provides an interesting overview of the development from pre-historic to monotheistic religions, followed by intentional acts to wipe out Pagans, Druids, heretics, magicians, wisewomen, and witches. What the conquerors couldn’t destroy, they converted for the own use (altars, relics) or absorbed (festivals and celebrations).

    A collection of folkways, a lifestyle & philosophy

    The second half of Teaching Witchcraft is more like a manual, providing the basics for incorporating different elements into a personal practice, either as part of a group or as an individual. Although designed for classroom or personal study, the book works well for curious readers like me who want to understand Wiccan beliefs, the cornerstones of magick, the meaning of rituals. Interspersed with charts and drawings, the book serves as a guide to the Wheel of the Year, the sabbats and esbats, moon cycles, signs and symbols, stones and crystals, amulets and talismans, auras and chakras.

    Teaching Witchcraft is set up as lessons, each one ending with a series of questions and recommended reading. It closes with final exams and teacher resources.

    The book is a solid introduction to modern witchcraft, whether you’re on that path or wondering what all those witches do in Salem.

    Prerelease book provided by NetGalley and Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd. for review consideration.

    Want to learn more about Charter Street Cemetery? Pick up If These Stones Could Speak: The History and People of the Old Salem Burying Point by Daniel Fury. Learn about the people who lived and died in Salem. Black-and-white grave photographs accompany profiles of some of the dead, along with their gravestone inscriptions.

    Compiled from many sources and checked against extant gravestones and vital records, the burial index is the most comprehensive list yet. To help you find your way around the burying ground, the book is divided into family groups and sections, with maps included. And if you’re unfamiliar with the symbols, terminology, and funeral practices of early Salem inhabitants, Daniel added helpful information on those topics too.

    While none of the victims executed during the Salem witch trials are buried at Old Salem Burying Point, their memory lingers there. Behind the Samuel Pickman House, now the Charter Street Cemetery Welcome Center, the 1992 Salem Witch Trials Memorial features stone benches engraved with each victim’s name and death date. Every time I visit, I whisper their names as I follow the path. Near Bridget Bishop’s stone, you’ll find an entrance into the cemetery.

    Besides an overview of the witch trials and the memorial, the book provides biographies of the 20 witch-hunt victims executed and those who perished in jail as well.

    A resident of Salem, author Daniel Fury is a proprietor of Black Cat Tours and a founding member of Friends of the Downtown Salem Historic Cemeteries.


    Read more: Salem’s Old Burying Point: Old photos by Frank Cousins

    No doubt Samuel Sewall never anticipated his private diaries would be widely read and quoted by historians and others interested in the minutiae of his life. As a family man, merchant, and part-time judge, Sewall faced common challenges that rocked his world, from his fitful children dying young to his religious doubts of being elect. He wrote so often about attending funerals that it seemed like penance for making bad decisions that reverberated beyond hearth and home.

    As his biographer, Richard Francis knows Sewall’s daily habits, his relationships, worldly concerns, and eternal worries, all of which were written in his journals. What Sewall rarely mentioned was the Salem witch trials, for which he’s best known. And so, Francis extrapolates from the diaries how Sewall’s character would react by writing Crane Pond: A Novel of Salem as historical fiction. Interspersed with court actions and executions, Francis reminds us that Sewall is not just a judge, he’s a man with a full and busy life. As an author, Francis helps the reader experience Sewall’s world, from the ferry trips from Boston to Salem with a meat pasty in his pocket to his first encounter with witchcraft and how it “was awful to see how the afflicted persons were agitated.”

    Though Sewall agreed with the sentencing—there are no court documents that tell otherwise—in his diary he showed ambivalence toward the witch trials. For instance, Sewall participated in a fast and prayer meeting for his friend—and accused witch—Captain John Alden. He was relieved when Alden escaped from jail. On August 19, Sewall wrote: “This day George Burrough, John Willard, Jno Procter, Martha Carrier, and George Jacobs were executed at Salem, a very great number of spectators being present. [Ministers] Mr. Cotton Mather was there, Mr. Sims, Hale, Noyes, Cheever, &c. All of [the convicted] said they were innocent, Carrier and all. Mr. Mather says they all died by a righteous sentence. Mr. Burrough by his speech, prayer, protestation of his innocence, did much move unthinking persons, which occasions their speaking hardly concerning his being executed.” In the margins, Sewall wrote: “Dolefull! Witchcraft.”

    Francis succeeds in creating believable dialogue and in building relationships. Judge William Stoughton talked like a formidable ally—or enemy. As expected, Sewall showed him the proper deference. With his daughter Hannah, Sewall was an attentive father, crawling into the closet where she hid to help her deal with her fears. After years of being consumed by his own role in the Salem witch trials, Sewall apparently did not think how the other judges would take his public apology in 1697. As Francis shows, he didn’t expect Waitstill Winthrop to sharply rebuke him outside the meeting house for speaking out of turn. The author also helps us understand Sewall’s struggles to be a noble father, a worthy citizen, a fair judge, and a faithful Puritan.

    Using Sewall’s diary definitely adds substance to Francis’ novel. But the author slips on occasion, like referring to Rebecca Nurse—one of the most well-known victims—as a widow, though her husband died three years after she was hanged for witchcraft. He locates the site of Giles Corey’s pressing death at Proctor’s Ledge (where the convicted witches were hanged), though no contemporaneous source suggests it. And Francis claims that if a convicted witch made a confession before the hangman did his job, they would have an immediate reprieve. Ministers asked victims to confess to witchcraft—believing them to be real witches—but only so they could meet their maker with a repentant heart.

    By telling the Salem story from a judge’s point of view, Francis offers a multidimensional perspective of the trials. I also suggest reading the author’s award-winning biography on Sewall.

    Crane Pond: A Novel of Salem by Richard Francis

    Judge Sewall’s Apology: The Salem Witch Trials and the Forming of an American Conscience by Richard Francis

    Post edited 15 June 2021 to correct the length of time it took for Giles Corey to die under torture. Thanks, Professor Tony Fels!

    Wicked Salem by Sam Baltrusis covers 300-plus years of history and people in three categories: the Witches, the Murderers, and the Cursed. The book includes stories about Bridget Bishop, George Jacobs Sr., and Mary Estey; self-confessed Boston Strangler Albert DeSalvo, Giles Corey, and Captain White’s murderer, Richard Crowninshield; Rev. Cotton Mather, Sheriff George Corwin, Nathaniel Hawthorne, and Harry Houdini. According to Baltrusis—a tour guide and paranormal researcher—each person profiled has a particular “haunt” in Salem.

    Despite his scaredy-cat persona, Baltrusis tells intriguing stories filled with detailed information about actual people and places in Salem, intermingled with his personal and professional experiences. He interviews modern-day practicing witches, including Laurie Cabot the Official Witch of Salem and tour guide Thomas O’Brien Vallor. And in case readers get confused, Vallor adamantly explains: “The victims of the witch trials were definitely not witches.” The book also includes sidebars—most notably with Margo Burns, project manager of Records of the Salem Witch-Hunt, and Kelly Daniell, archivist for Peabody Historical Society—for historical perspective.

    In many instances, Baltrusis judiciously uses the word “allegedly,” especially in reference to oft-repeated “quotes” from long-dead people. In retelling a ghost sighting at the Samuel Pickman House, he admits, “after doing exhaustive historical research, I found no real proof to suggest the story of the murder or the supposed demonic infestation at the house is true” (17). I’m curious why it’s included, even if it’s a hotspot of paranormal activity. Baltrusis said he “made a concerted effort to stick to the historical facts, even if it resulted in debunking an alleged encounter with the paranormal” (235).

    Lingering Lore and Legends

    Baltrusis claims Wicked Salem is about “correcting the misinformation associated with the witch trials hysteria of 1692. Over the past decade, I have noticed a shift toward untangling these historical inaccuracies, but we still have a long way to go” (240). Yet much of the book, Baltrusis admits, came from updated excerpts from his nine previous books and published articles. (That must be why 18 pages about the U.S.S. Salem’s haunted attraction in Quincy was included, though the ship had nothing to do with the city of Salem.) In addition, he conducted interviews, read paranormal books on Salem, and checked out related blogs and websites for this volume.

    However, Baltrusis repeats myths that have been corrected ages ago by historians and genealogists. Here are just a few:

    • Joanna Chibbun “declared that [Sarah] Good, who was pregnant in 1692 and lost her unborn child in Ipswich, actually murdered the infant” (72). Good’s infant daughter was born 10 December 1691, before she was charged with witchcraft (see New England Historical & Genealogical Register 157:9, published 2003).
    • In 1981, David L. Greene sorted out the identities of accused witches Bridget Bishop and Sarah Bishop (The American Genealogist 57:129-131). Although acknowledging the confusion, Baltrusis writes: Bridget “lived in Salem Village (present-day Danvers) but owned property on the eastern side of Salem’s current Washington and Church streets … that she sometimes leased out to tenants” (26, 41). Sarah Bishop and her husband ran an unlicensed tavern in Salem Village while Bridget Bishop lived in Salem Town. That’s why, regarding her Salem Village accusers, Bridget explicitly said: “I never saw these persons before; nor I never was in this place [Salem Village] before.”
    • On Bridget Bishop’s hanging, one of Baltrusis’ interviewees claims: “They could have just put the noose around Bridget’s neck and killed her instantly. But they didn’t. The executioners actually positioned the noose so she would die a slow, horrible death. She was hanging in the gallows—convulsing and losing control of her bowels—in front of a crowd of people. They were publicly shaming her before they killed her” (28-30). That’s not exactly true. Yes, hordes of people attended such a public spectacle, believed to be for their own edification. While we don’t know if the victims were hanged using the gallows or a tree, a quick death only happened if the victim’s neck snapped as their bodies dropped. That rarely happened; it often took “up to 20 minutes for the victims to die” by strangulation, as Margo Burns explains (67). And, yes, after death, the spontaneous relaxation of muscles sometimes caused bodily fluids to seep out.
    • Howard Street Cemetery is not where Giles Corey was crushed to death (18, 104, 106). The obstinate Corey suffered the medieval torture of peine fort et dure at the now-demolished 1683 jail at the corner of Federal Street and Prison Lane (now St. Peter’s Street). Like many of the witch trial victims, we don’t know where Giles Corey’s broken body was buried. But it’s not at Howard Street Cemetery, where the first burial occurred in 1801. (American Ancestors Magazine 15.4:36-37, published 2014)

    More Weight

    Throughout Wicked Salem, Frank C. Grace’s photographs capture the essence of the city’s past, while Baltrusis offers educational and entertaining stories—without the profound weight of history.

    Granted, I’m not the intended audience of Baltrusis’ works. I’m skeptical about the existence of ghosts and paranormal phenomena. I’m disturbed by the continual misappropriation of the Salem witch trials with Halloween, Haunted Happenings, and horror thrills. And I have a penchant for being a mythbuster when it comes to innocent people accused of witchery.