On 25 May 2023, the Connecticut General Assembly approved the Resolution Exonerating the Women and Men Convicted for Witchcraft in Colonial Connecticut. The resolution reads:

“WHEREAS, the courts in the early British colonies of Connecticut and New Haven indicted at least thirty-four women and men for the alleged crimes of witchcraft and familiarities with the devil and convicted twelve of them, executing eleven, and it is now accepted by the historical profession and society as a whole that all the accused were innocent of such charges, and

“WHEREAS, legal procedures differed at the time and many practices of the Colonial courts would not meet modern American standards of proof, so that the miscarriage of justice was facilitated by such procedures, and

“WHEREAS, the status of women was radically different than it is today, and misogyny played a large part in the trials and in denying defendants their rights and dignity, and

“WHEREAS, community strife and panic combined with overwhelming fear and superstition led to these accusations of alleged witchcraft and the subsequent suffering of those accused.

“NOW, THEREFORE, BE IT RESOLVED, that all of the formally convicted and executed are absolved of all crimes of witchcraft and familiarities with the devil. The legislature specifically absolves the following people believed to have been convicted and executed for the crimes of witchcraft and familiarities with the devil: Alice Young in 1647, Mary Johnson in 1648, Joan Carrington in 1651, John Carrington in 1651, Goodwife Bassett in 1651, Goodwife Knapp in 1653, Lydia Gilbert in 1654, Mary Sanford in 1662, Nathaniel Greensmith in 1663, Rebecca Greensmith in 1663, and Mary Barnes in 1663; and one Elizabeth Seager convicted and reprieved in 1665.

“BE IT FURTHER RESOLVED, that those who were indicted for the crimes of witchcraft and familiarities with the devil, forced to flee, banished or even acquitted continued to live with their reputations destroyed and their family names tarnished, will have their reputations restored and no longer have disgrace attached to their names, now, being in good standing in the state of Connecticut. The following indicted for the crimes of witchcraft and familiarities with the devil who were not convicted but still suffered greatly after indictments were: Goodwife Bailey in 1655, Nicholas Bailey in 1655, Elizabeth Godman in 1655, Elizabeth Garlick in 1658, Margaret Jennings in 1661, Nicholas Jennings in 1661, Judith Varlet in 1662, Andrew Sanford in 1662, William Ayers in 1662, Judith Ayers in 1662, James Wakely in 1662, Katherine Harrison in 1668 and 1669, William Graves in 1667, Elizabeth Clawson in 1692, Hugh Crosia in 1692, Mercy Disborough in 1692, Mary Harvey in 1692, Hannah Harvey in 1692, Mary Staples in 1692, Winifred Benham in 1697, and Winifred Benham Jr. in 1697.

“BE IT FURTHER RESOLVED, that the State of Connecticut apologizes to the descendants of all those who were indicted for the crimes of witchcraft and familiarities with the devil, convicted and executed and for the harm done to the accused persons’ posterity to the present day, and acknowledges the trauma and shame that wrongfully continued to affect the families of the accused.”

Thanks to the Connecticut Witch Trial Exoneration Project and others who supported and voted for this long-overdue resolution.

On 28 July 2022, Elizabeth Johnson Jr. was officially exonerated by the Commonwealth of Massachusetts for the crime of witchcraft.

During the Salem witch trials, Andover neighbors and afflicted accusers claimed 22-year-old Elizabeth Johnson Jr. was a witch. At her examinations on August 10-11, 1692, Elizabeth confessed to signing the Devil’s book, participating in a mock sacrament, and afflicting numerous people. On 5 January 1693, the grand jury indicted her for afflicting Ann Putnam Jr. Elizabeth was convicted of witchcraft less than a week later. Fortunately, Governor William Phips gave a temporary reprieve to several condemned witches, including Elizabeth, shortly before their execution date (RSWH, pp. 541, 543-544, 771-772, 811).

However, those convicted of a capital crime lost their civil rights and liberties. On 13 September 1710, Francis Johnson petitioned for restitution for his sister Elizabeth Johnson Jr. He also submitted a claim for 3 pounds for providing Elizabeth with provisions during her six-month imprisonment. His request was noted but ignored.

In 1711, a Reversal of Attainder nullified all witch trial judgments against George Burroughs, John Proctor, George Jacobs, John Willard, Giles Corey, Martha Corey, Rebecca Nurse, Sarah Good, Elizabeth How, Mary Easty, Sarah Wildes, Abigail Hobbs,* Samuel Wardwell, Mary Parker, Martha Carrier, Abigail Faulkner,* Ann Foster,* Rebecca Eames,* Mary Post,* Mary Lacy,* Mary Bradbury,* and Dorcas Hoar.*

Omitted from the 1711 act, on 19 February 1711/2, Elizabeth petitioned on her own behalf for a reversal of attainder and for restitution. No action was taken. When Elizabeth Johnson Jr. died on 3 January 1746/7, the weight of her conviction remained (RSWH, pp. 875-876, 887-888, 901).

In the 20th century, six more victims of the Salem witch trials were vindicated. Finally, in the 21st century, students from the North Andover Middle School took on Elizabeth Johnson Jr.’s case and she finally was acquitted of witchcraft.

Resolve relative to the indictment, trial, conviction, and execution† of Ann Pudeator, Bridget Bishop, Susannah Martin, Alice Parker, Margaret Scott, Wilmot Redd, and Elizabeth Johnson Jr. for “Witchcraft” in the Year Sixteen Hundred and Ninety-Two.

Whereas, Ann Pudeator, Bridget Bishop, Susannah Martin, Alice Parker, Margaret Scott, Wilmot Redd, and Elizabeth Johnson Jr. were indicted, tried, found guilty, sentenced to death, and executed† in the year sixteen hundred and ninety-two for “Witchcraft”; and

Whereas, The above named may have been illegally tried, convicted, and sentenced by a possibly illegal court of Oyer and Terminer created by the then governor of the Province without authority under the Province Charter of Massachusetts Bay; and

Whereas, Although there was a public repentance by Judge Sewall, one of the judges of the so-called “Witchcraft Court,” and by all the members of the “Witchcraft” jury, and a public Fast Day proclaimed and observed in repentance for the proceedings, but no other action taken in regard to them; and

Whereas, The General Court of Massachusetts is informed that certain descendants‡ of Ann Pudeator, Bridget Bishop, Susannah Martin, Alice Parker, Margaret Scott, Wilmot Redd, and Elizabeth Johnson Jr. are still distressed by the record of said proceedings; therefore be it

Resolved, That in order to alleviate such distress and although the facts of such proceedings cannot be obliterated, the General Court of Massachusetts declares its belief that such proceedings, even if lawful under the Province Charter and the law of Massachusetts as it then was, were, and are shocking, and the result of a wave of popular hysterical fear of the Devil in the community, and further declares that, as all the laws under which said proceedings, even if then legally conducted, have been long since abandoned and superseded by our more civilized laws no disgrace or cause for distress attaches to the said descendants or any of them by reason of said proceedings; and be it further

Resolved, That the passage of this resolve shall not bestow on the Commonwealth or any of its subdivisions, or on any person any right which did not exist prior to said passage, shall not authorize any suit or other proceeding nor deprive any party to a suit or other proceeding of any defense which he hitherto had, shall not affect in any way whatever the title to or rights in any real or personal property, nor shall it require or permit the remission of any penalty, fine, or forfeiture hitherto imposed or incurred.

Resolve of 1957, chapter 146 (approved 28 August 1957) as rewritten after amendments on 31 October 2001 and 28 July 2022 incorporated.

For related stories on Elizabeth Johnson Jr., see:


Footnotes:
RSWH: Records of the Salem Witch-Hunt by Bernard Rosenthal et al.
* not executed
† Elizabeth Johnson Jr. was found guilty but not executed for the crime of witchcraft.
‡ Elizabeth Johnson Jr. had no descendants and remained unmarried during her long life.

While researching Thomas Danforth (1623-1699), I discovered Paige’s History of Cambridge and Hutchinson’s Witchcraft Delusion of 1692 quoted from Samuel Sewall’s Diary on Danforth’s illness, death, and burial. Sewall visited Danforth on 28 October 1699 and recorded in his diary that Elizabeth (Danforth) Foxcroft informed Sewall that her father “was much indisposed the 22 inst., which was the beginning of his sickness.” Danforth was “much troubled with the Palsie”—which caused paralysis and involuntary tremors. Two entries later in his diary, Sewall wrote:

“Lord’s Day, Novr. 5, Tho. Danforth Esq. dies about 3 post merid. [p.m.] of a fever. Has been a magistrate 40 years. Was a very good husbandman, and a very good Christian, and a good Councilor: was about 76 years old.”

“…Sixth day, Nov. 10, 1699. Mr. Danforth is entombed about 1/4 of an hour before 4 p.m. Very fair and pleasant day; much company. Bearers on the right side Lt. Governor, Mr. Russell, Sewall; left side, Mr. W. Winthrop, Mr. Cook, Col. Phillips. I helped lift the corpse into the tomb, carrying the feet. Had cake and cheese at the house. Col. Hathorne, Mr. Corwin, Bro. Sewall were there from Salem. Councilors had rings, ministers gloves, Mr. Mather and Brattle scarfs and rings: so had the bearers.”

Both books ended their quotes with the list of mourning gifts the family gave to honored guests and casket bearers. But wait. Where was Danforth buried? Even though Danforth lived in Cambridge, Massachusetts, I searched Boston’s Historic Burying Grounds Initiative database first. Ten Danforths were listed, but not the Thomas who died in 1699. So I tried the Find a Grave database, narrowing down the search to Cambridge. Still nothing.

But what if Sewall said something more in his diary? And he did!

The entry continued: “Cambridge Burying Place is handsomely fenced in with boards, which has not been done above a month or six weeks.”

Thanks to Samuel Sewall’s diary, we know where Hon. Thomas Danforth’s mortal remains lie. While it doesn’t explicitly say which tomb Danforth is in, and none are labeled with his name, he’s definitely buried in an unmarked tomb at Old Burying Ground in Cambridge. His wife and possibly other family members may be buried there too. I added a memorial for Danforth at Find a Grave, not knowing one already existed with an “unknown location.” The duplicate listings were merged into Memorial 240442382.

Danforth and the Salem witch trials

As deputy governor, Thomas Danforth observed the examinations of accused witches Elizabeth Proctor and Sarah Cloyce at a meeting of the Court of Assistants in Salem in April 1692. Local magistrates, John Hathorne and Jonathan Corwin, handled the questioning, while Rev. Samuel Parris transcribed the session.* This experience no doubt led to Danforth’s disapproval of the judicial proceedings.

In a letter dated 8 October 1692, Thomas Brattle, an outspoken opponent of the witch trials, wrote: “But although the chief judge, and some of the other judges, be very zealous in these proceedings, yet this you may take for a truth, that there are several about the Bay, men for understanding, judgment, and piety, inferior to few, if any, in [New England], that do utterly condemn the said proceedings, and do freely deliver their judgment in the case to be this, viz., that these methods will utterly ruin and undo poor N. E. I shall nominate some of these to you, viz., the Hon. Simon Bradstreet Esq.; the Hon. Thomas Danforth Esq.; the Rev. Mr. Increase Mather, and the Rev. Mr. Samuel Willard….”

With the Court of Oyer and Terminer disbanded, Tuesday, 6 December 1692—“a very dark cold day,” Sewall reports—was “the day appointed for choosing of Judges.” William Stoughton was unanimously chosen Chief Justice of the new Superior Court of Judicature with 15 votes, while Thomas Danforth received 12 votes, and John Richards, Waitstill Winthrop, and Sewall received 7 votes each. Only 15 Assistants were present. Apparently, Danforth didn’t want anything to do with the witch trials, which would be a significant focus of the new court with so many accused witches still in jail. Two days later, Sewall’s diary says, “Mr. Danforth is invited to dinner, and after pressed to accept his place.” After Lecture on Thursday, December 22, Stoughton, Richards, Winthrop, and Sewall received their commissions as Judges and took their oaths. Danforth, having been “pressed,” later joined them on the bench.

The Salem witch trials started again in January 1693. Of the 56 indictments for witchcraft, true bills were found against 26 but only three were found guilty—Elizabeth Johnson Jr., Sarah Wardwell, and Mary Post. Without the use of spectral evidence in court and possibly because of Danforth’s influence, the court quickly brought the trials to an end. Then, Governor Phips issued pardons for the three convicted women as well as others convicted from the previous court.

Thomas Danforth remained on the supreme court until his death in 1699. On November 7 of that year, Sewall wrote, “Mr. Stoughton, in his speech to the Grand Jury, takes great notice of Judge Danforth’s death. Saith he was a lover of religion and religious men; the oldest servant the country ever had; zealous against vice; and if had any detractors; yet was so much on the other as to erect him a monument among this people.” Then there was a sharp reminder from the Puritan minister, Mr. Willard, who “in his prayer mentioned God’s displeasure in his removal; and desired the Judges might act on the bench as those who must shortly go to give their account.”

Salem’s End

Thomas Danforth is also known for giving 800 acres of land to families who wanted to escape Salem and memories of the witch trials. Previously known as Danforth’s Farms, the town was incorporated in 1700 as Framingham, Massachusetts, named after Framlingham, Suffolk, England, where Danforth was baptized in 1623. The section where the Salem refugees lived is still known as Salem End.


*This line has been edited from the original post. Based on several 19th-century authors, I had written: “Rev. Samuel Parris was in charge of the interrogations that day, and Danforth recorded the session.” After Marilynne K. Roach commented, and I replied back, I went back to the books and revised my thinking. See Comments, below, for more details.

Examination of Elizabeth Johnson Jr.

By Tony Fels

On July 28, 2022, the Commonwealth of Massachusetts formally exonerated the last innocent victim of the infamous 17th-century Salem witch hunt. Elizabeth Johnson Jr., known to her contemporaries as Betty, was a 22-year-old resident of Andover, Massachusetts, when she got swept up in the frenzy of accusations, judicial examinations, jailings, trials, and executions that convulsed the communities of Essex County in 1692. All of the witch hunt’s other victims had already been exonerated by previous legislation. For some, the process began shortly after the trials ended. By 1711, 14 of the 20 who were executed at Salem had had their names cleared and their legal rights restored. A 1957 state law added one more name, and the act’s 2001 amendment added the remaining five executed suspects. 

But Betty Johnson fell into a different category of victims. She was one of 11 individuals who had been convicted of witchcraft but, for a variety of reasons, never executed. Betty’s trial occurred in January 1693, at the first proceedings of a new court established to take the place of the original but now discredited witchcraft court and to dispense with the remaining witchcraft accusations. Just three individuals were convicted under the revised rules of this later court, but the governor granted them last-minute reprieves, and they were soon pardoned and released along with those convicted by the earlier court who were still alive. In subsequent years, two of the three witchcraft suspects convicted in January 1693, along with the other eight convicted by the earlier court, had their names cleared and their legal rights restored. Despite petitioning herself to the Massachusetts legislature for legal restitution in 1712 (paralleling a claim filed two years earlier by her brother, Francis, for monetary compensation for her six months spent in jail), Betty Johnson, alone among all those convicted at Salem, never did receive such a simple declaration of justice—until now.

Confessions of witchcraft

What larger lessons does Betty Johnson’s story hold for understanding the Salem witch hunt? The most interesting one for me stems from the fact that Johnson had confessed. Over the course of roughly a year, the panic yielded over 150 suspects who were formally accused of witchcraft, fully one-third of whom confessed to the crime, some before they were even arrested. Since it is well established that nobody in eastern Massachusetts at that time was practicing witchcraft in any meaningful sense of the term (attempting to harness supernatural power to harm others), the question arises why so many of these individuals falsely admitted to committing a felony that carried the death penalty.

In Betty’s case, her two statements of confession were made back to back on August 10 and 11, 1692, the first to the local Andover justice of the peace, Dudley Bradstreet, and the second to an examining board led by John Hathorne, the Salem town magistrate who sat on the colony’s special witchcraft court and who was one of the prime movers in the witch hunt. What is most striking about Betty’s confessions is how stereotypical they are. She simply drew from the known lore about witchcraft, including being baptized by Satan, who appeared to her in the form of two black cats, in order “to pull down the kingdom of Christ and to set up the Devil’s kingdom,” taking these common notions on herself as if she were an avid follower. She claimed she had hurt a number of her neighbors by having her invisible specter sit on one’s stomach, by pinching or sticking pins in cloth likenesses of several others, and by invisibly attacking yet another with a spear made of iron or wood (though she wasn’t sure which). She said she had a “familiar” (left undescribed but typically thought to be an invisible animal) who nourished itself by sucking on her knuckle and at two other places, one behind her arm, that examining women corroborated by noting two little red specks on her body.

Throughout her confession, Betty cited as her criminal accomplices individuals who had already been named as suspects, including her relative Martha Carrier, the most prominent of the Andover suspects, a woman long believed to be a witch by many of her neighbors, and George Burroughs, the former minister from Salem village, who was widely regarded during the panic to be the witches’ ringleader. Carrier and Burroughs were both tried and convicted in early August, just one week before Betty’s confession, and both were executed on August 19, a little more than a week after Betty turned herself in.

Reasons for a false confession

Why did she take this step of falsely accusing herself? Although Betty came from a prominent Andover family—she was the granddaughter of the town’s elder minister, Francis Dane—the extended Dane family, itself part of the larger and more significantly targeted Ingalls clan, had already been attacked by the young and middle-aged people who began accusing their Andover neighbors of witchcraft starting in mid-July. Even more directly, Betty’s confession was preceded (on the same day, August 10) by those of two of Martha Carrier’s children, 8-year-old Sarah and 10-year-old Thomas, both of whom implicated Betty Johnson as a member of the witches’ “company.” 

Most likely, Betty knew that she would be named by her second cousins, the Carrier children. All three may have thought, in the context of accusations that were wildly whipping around their community, that by confessing they might increase the chances of being treated with leniency. This was not an unreasonable assumption, since the Puritans valued repentance, even as they also showed determination to rid their communities of those they believed had allowed the Devil to grant them the power to practice witchcraft. Twenty were executed before the witch hunt effectively came to an end in mid-October, but significantly none of these 20 came from the ranks of those who had confessed, even though this association was probably not discernible until mid-July and, even so, could never be guaranteed.

Confessions also tended to deflect blame. In Betty’s case, she made clear that it was the 42-year-old Martha Carrier who had “persuaded her to be a witch.” Carrier, Betty said, had also “threatened to tear [her] in pieces,” if she didn’t do as she was told. Betty probably hoped that this aspect of her statements would also be protective, even though she must have equally known that confessions were regarded as the highest form of legal proof of actual witchcraft.

The role of Puritanism

Beneath all these likely strategic motives, however, lies the fact that members of the Puritan communities of early Massachusetts could readily convince themselves that in some way or other, perhaps at a moment of weakness, they really had allowed Satan into their lives. A form of strict Calvinism, Anglo-American Puritanism held out virtually impossible standards of piety for its followers to live up to. Puritans sought to live in the truest, loving fellowship of Christ but one in which even a stray thought to get back at someone for a perceived grievance or to fail to carry out one’s dutiful role as husband, wife, parent, or child might occasion deep anguish. 

There is no explicit sign of such religious self-doubt in Betty’s own confessions, but other confessions during the witch hunt were filled with such self-recriminations. Fourteen-year-old Abigail Hobbs, for example, began her witchcraft confession with the admission, “I have been very wicked. I hope I shall be better if God will help me.” Collateral evidence suggests that Hobbs was referring to having been disobedient to her parents, lying out in the woods at night, pretending to baptize her mother, and not caring what anybody said to her.

When Abigail (Dane) Faulkner, Betty’s aunt, confessed at the end of August, she acknowledged that all the accusations made against her kinsfolk had led her to “look with the evil eye” on those doing the accusing, “consent that they should be afflicted,” and “kn[o]w not but that the Devil might take that advantage,” even as she asserted that it was he, not her, who had done the afflicting. In one of the saddest examples of self-recrimination leading to a witchcraft confession (though this episode was not part of the Salem events), Mary Parsons of Springfield, Massachusetts, imagined that she had entered into a pact with the Devil so she could see her deceased child again.

As the power and momentum of the Salem panic began to recede, many of those who had confessed to the crime of witchcraft recanted their earlier confessions. While there is no remaining record of Betty taking this step, as there is for a number of the Andover confessors, we do know that she pleaded not guilty at her January trial, proof that she no longer held to her confession of August 10-11. The people of Essex County were coming back to their senses. Historical records suggest that Betty did well in her later years, apparently successfully selling lands in 1709 and 1716 that she had inherited from her father and living until the age of 77. By that time—the 1740s—Puritanism itself was well on its way toward softening its spiritual message through on the one hand the rise of evangelical piety and on the other hand the emergence of the Enlightenment’s rational faith that would soon become Unitarianism.

updated 31 August 2022


To learn how middle school students pushed for Betty Johnson’s exoneration, see also: Civics in action: Exonerating Elizabeth Johnson Jr. and Last witch’s conviction. For the legal case, see: Last convicted Salem witch exonerated.

Tony Fels is Professor Emeritus of History at the University of San Francisco, where he taught for 29 years. At USF he taught, among other courses, American religious history and historical methods, the latter of which centered on the historiography of the Salem witch hunt. His book, Switching Sides: How a Generation of Historians Lost Sympathy for the Victims of the Salem Witch Hunt, was reviewed on Witches of Massachusetts Bay. For more about Tony Fels, go to https://www.tonyfels.com/.

On 26 May 2022, the Massachusetts State Senate passed Amendment 842, part of the process to clear the name of Elizabeth Johnson Jr., the last convicted witch from the Salem witch trials. Now it will go to a conference committee made of senators and representatives who will create a compromise budget.

Twitter, 26 May 2022

Watch: The Last Witch: A Documentary 330 Years in the Making

Watch: Diana DiZoglio’s Senate Floor Speech on the Exoneration of Elizabeth Johnson Jr.

Read previous post: Civics in action: Exonerating Elizabeth Johnson Jr.

On 10 August 1692, 22-year-old Elizabeth Johnson Jr. of Andover, Massachusetts, was arrested for witchcraft. Probably influenced by 7-year-old Sarah and 10-year-old Thomas Carrier’s confessions, she told Justice Dudley Bradstreet that she too was baptized by Martha Carrier and participated in the big witch meeting in Salem Village. The daughter of Lieut. Stephen Johnson (b. c. 1640, d. 1690) and Elizabeth Dane (b. c. 1643, d. 1722), Elizabeth Jr. was called “simplish at best” by her grandfather Rev. Francis Dane. Along with many other Dane relatives, she was jailed for months.

On 11 January 1693, Elizabeth was found guilty of covenanting with the devil and three days later Judge William Stoughton signed her death warrant. Fortunately, Elizabeth and several others were reprieved at the last minute by Governor William Phips. Today, she remains the only condemned witch who was not exonerated from the 1692 witch trials in the last 300-plus years.

Civics in action

While researching his book, In the Shadow of Salem: The Andover Witch Hunt of 1692, Richard Hite discussed with Carol Majahad of the North Andover Historical Society how Elizabeth Johnson Jr. was never cleared like the other convicted—but innocent—witches from 1692. Working with local teacher Carolyn LaPierre, they put hundreds of 8th-grade students in North Andover Middle School on the case during 2020-2021. The students were involved in research and in the process of creating a bill to propose that Elizabeth’s guilty verdict be lifted.

Presented by Senator Diana DiZoglio (D-First Essex), Bill S.1016 seeks to add to chapter 145 of the Resolves of 1957 of the General Court of Massachusetts, as amended by chapter 122 of the Acts of 2001, the name of Elizabeth Johnson Jr. The original title from 1957 reads: “Resolve Relative to the Indictment, Trial, Conviction, and Execution of Ann Pudeator and Certain Other Persons for ‘Witchcraft’ in the Year Sixteen Hundred and Ninety-Two.” Without specifically naming “certain other persons,” the 1957 resolve did not provide the reversal of attainder for the five “other” women. In 2001, the words “one Ann Pudeator and certain other persons” were replaced with “Ann Pudeator, Bridget Bishop, Susannah Martin, Alice Parker, Margaret Scott, and Wilmot Redd.”

As of late October 2021, the bill remains referred to the Joint Committee on the Judiciary. From there, it will go before the Senate and House to be voted on before the governor signs it. It’s not expected to be a contentious issue, since the previous one was signed in 2001, but it’s just one bill among many for the 192nd Session. The bill needs to be approved by the end of July or else the whole process of submitting it will need to be done again. Richard Hite and others would like to get the bill signed on a significant date, like January 11, when the court said Elizabeth Johnson Jr. was convicted of witchcraft, or February 1, when she and the other last convicted witches were scheduled to be hanged.

Like many other victims of the Salem witch trials, under pressure, Elizabeth did confess to witchcraft but she was innocent of the charges. Elizabeth died, unmarried and without descendants, on 3 January 1746/7 in Andover. No headstone or memorial remains to tell her story. It’s time to clear Elizabeth Johnson Jr.’s name.

Stay tuned for more!

Written with information from the 28 October 2021 Zoom session, Civics in action: Exonerating Elizabeth Johnson Jr., hosted by the North Andover Historical Society with Carol Majahad, and featuring Richard Hite and Carolyn LaPierre.

Chapter 145, Resolves of 1957:

Massachusetts, 1957 Resolve, Chapter 145

Tituba's testimony, 1692

After publishing “Traditional Understanding Overshadows Academic Explanations at Rebecca Nurse Commemoration” by Tony Fels, a fascinating discussion ensued in the Comments section between Tony Fels and Margo Burns. Since readers often skip the Comments section, I wanted to share this important conversation about the meaning of the Salem confessions. As Tony put it, “The Salem witch hunt is one of those subjects that simply crosses the boundaries between what interests academics and what interests the general public. We’re all involved in its meaning simply as people, as evidenced again and again by events like the 400th anniversary of Rebecca Nurse’s birthday.”

Margo Burns responds to original post:

Something that I can’t get through to people, both those who adhere to the traditional understanding as well as academic explanations, is that the notion that confession somehow spared people is simply not accurate. Just because no confessors were hanged does not mean it was the intention of the Court to spare confessors—that’s a historian’s fallacy. The Chief Magistrate wrote a warrant for the execution for several confessors in January, but they and the rest of the people sentenced to die then were all spared by the Governor.

Confession was the gold standard of convictive evidence in witchcraft cases in that era, mentioned in all the contemporary books about witchcraft, and it was not controversial legally the way spectral evidence was. The belief that a confession, even a false one, could spare one from being hanged in 1692 makes it easier to then cast those who were executed as martyrs. They had a way to save themselves but they refused to tell a lie even though it would save them from hanging. So noble! It’s a nice story, but it is not based on historical facts.


Tony Fels responds:

I can’t agree with Margo Burns on this point. She’s technically correct: Confession was the best of all evidence of witchcraft, and those who confessed would have had no assurance that they would not ultimately be hanged for the crime. Indeed, six confessors were convicted by the first witchcraft court and three later on by the second court. But all those trials and convictions occurred late in the witch hunt (mid-September 1692 and then January 1693).

Meanwhile, Tituba had confessed back in March 1692, followed by Abigail Hobbs in mid-April, Deliverance Hobbs a couple days later, Margaret Jacobs in May, Ann Foster and her daughter Mary Lacey Sr. in mid-July, and then a great many more from Andover. A pattern must have been discerned that the confessors were at least being held temporarily without trial in order to name others or to rid the community of the more dangerous, recalcitrant suspects first. Thus, to confess at least bought a suspect time.

By contrast, those suspects who early on proclaimed their innocence, even as they were brought to the first trials in June, July, and August, refused to take that step of falsely confessing. We can surely sympathize with those who were intimidated into confessing, but the actions of those who resisted such pressures do present us with a noble story!

Continue to Part 2.


Margo Burns is the associate editor and project manager of Records of the Salem Witch-Hunt (Cambridge University Press, 2009), the most complete compendium of the trial documents. She’s been the expert featured on several Who Do You Think You Are? TV episodes and regularly speaks on the Salem witch trials at History Camp, historical societies, and libraries. Check out her 17th-Century Colonial New England website.

Tony Fels is Professor Emeritus of History at the University of San Francisco, where he taught for 29 years. At USF he taught, among other courses, American religious history and historical methods, the latter of which centered on the historiography of the Salem witch hunt. His book, Switching Sides: How a Generation of Historians Lost Sympathy for the Victims of the Salem Witch Hunt (2018), was reviewed on Witches of Massachusetts Bay. For more about Tony Fels, go to https://www.tonyfels.com/.

Giles Corey pressed to death. Unknown artist.

A follow-up to the post Richard Francis: From Sewall biographer to Salem witch trials storyteller.

In Olde England as well as New, hangings were a public spectacle. Despite the grim proceedings, executions drew large crowds. In Massachusetts Bay Colony, hangings may not have had a carnival-like atmosphere, with vendors offering meat pasties and barkers selling broadsides of the convicted’s confessions. Still, farmers, clergy, merchants, gentlemen, sailors, servants, housewives, and children attended the Salem witch trials and executions.

Two miles from the prison, Proctor’s Ledge was chosen as a place where crowds could gather and still see the victims swinging from the rope. And if the convicted witches had strong voices, like Rev. George Burroughs, those gathered could clearly hear his perfect rendition of “The Lord’s Prayer.”

Silent protest

Giles Corey was never convicted of witchcraft. He pleaded “not guilty” in the Salem court but would not agree to stand trial. In consequence, the judges chose to inflict peine forte et dure (French for “strong and hard punishment,” or pressing to death with heavy weights). Perhaps after a night or two in the already crowded Salem prison, the judges expected Corey to change his mind. For two days, Samuel Sewall wrote, the Court, Captain Gardner of Nantucket, and other friends begged Corey to agree to be tried by the judges and a jury of his peers. He remained mute.

In Crane Pond: A Novel of Salem, Richard Francis said Corey’s pressing death occurred at Proctor’s Ledge—the site of the witch hangings. Given that at any moment Corey could put a stop to his punishment and agree to be tried, it’s highly unlikely that he was carted all the way to Proctor’s Ledge. Besides, the crowds would not see much of a spectacle from their vantage point, and watching an old man being crushed to death was agonizingly slow. (It was not as slow as two days,* but stubborn and silent Giles Corey may have survived two or three hours as the rocks piled up, his ribs cracked, his lungs collapsed, and his last breath escaped.)

Where did Giles Corey die?

In 1867, Charles W. Upham asserted Corey’s torture occurred “in an open field somewhere between Howard Street Burial Ground and Brown Street.” Other authors—and tour guides—mistakenly claimed Corey was pressed to death at Howard Street Cemetery near the prison. In 1692, however, the land was privately owned and only became a burial ground in 1801. More recently, Marilynne K. Roach suggested Lieutenant Thomas Putnam’s lot bordering the prison yard would be a likely spot, especially agreeable to Thomas since his daughter Ann Jr. was one of the major witchcraft accusers.

Sidney Perley believed rocks were carried inside the prison to be placed on top of Corey’s prone body. I believe the answer is much simpler: In the prison yard. While no contemporaneous writers described the location, the prison yard had enough space—and rocks—to carry out the deed without drawing large crowds. After all, the laws of the colony did not permit such “inhumane, barbarous, or cruel” torture as inflicted on Giles Corey—at least not publicly. While people did witness his punishment, they were not able to stop it. And if they tried, he’d probably die of his internal injuries anyway.


* Thanks to Professor Tony Fels for correcting me in his comment to my previous post, Richard Francis: From Sewall biographer to Salem witch trials storyteller. Tony is the author of Switching Sides: How a Generation of Historians Lost Sympathy for the Victims of the Salem Witch Hunt, which I wrote about here.

“Where Was Giles Corey Pressed to Death?” by Marilynne K. Roach (American Ancestors Magazine, 15.4:36-39)

Diary of Samuel Sewall

Cotton Mather wrote the only government-approved book about the Salem witch trials.

A student interview with Professor Emerson W. Baker on the triumph and tragedy of the 1692 Salem witch trials as part of the 2019 National History Day contest. (Missed Part 1, Part 2, or Part 3?)

Kayleigh: As you said in your book, A Storm of Witchcraft, Governor William Phips created one of the first large-scale government coverups in American history by curbing free speech [about the Salem witch trials]. This happened again, during World War I, etc. Why do you think the government seems to repeat the same problems over and over again? Is it because they don’t learn from history or they forget about the past?

Dr. Baker: I don’t really think history repeats itself but I do think sometimes it burps itself back up. Part of it is that most politicians are not good historians. I also think too that unfortunately, it’s sort of a self-preservation reaction to try to cover something up. It’s an instinctive thing to muzzle the press, to quiet dissent. It’s weird because on the one hand, you know, it’s such an American thing to have dissent and to have freedom of speech and open opinion. It’s also part of a self-preservation mode to try to quash that, to control that.

Frankly, you can see that today in this whole bit about fake news. The president can’t control free speech, he can’t issue a public speech ban the way William Phips did, but what he can do as much as possible is to control the media by saying they are speaking falsehoods. To me, it’s the same kind of process. What’s interesting to me—and this is where Salem is so fascinating—is that every generation has that version, that incident of Salem: the Red Scare, McCarthyism, or earlier on, the treatment of Loyalists, or the issue of slavery. Every generation has its political fight where one group or multiple groups try to restrict the freedom of speech, the freedom of the press, of other groups, for political ends. Ultimately, unfortunately, it almost seems to be part of human nature and it’s something we have to be constantly on guard for and to fight against.

At the end of my previous book, The Devil of Great Island, which is another case of witchcraft in New Hampshire in the 1680s, I say, unfortunately, as long as we have hatred and prejudices and racism and bigotry and persecution and scapegoating, we’re going to have some form of witchcraft. And we’re also going to have some kind of effort to restrict people’s freedoms. It’s not the most optimistic, uplifting note. But to me, it’s why studying this stuff is so important because it rings true today and it alerts us to the dangers of any efforts to restrict a free society.

———

Emerson (“Tad”) W. Baker is a historian and professor at Salem State University and the author of A Storm of Witchcraft: The Salem Witch Trials and the American Experience (2014), The Devil of Great Island: Witchcraft & Conflict in Early New England (2007), and The New England Knight: Sir William Phips, 1651-1695 (1998).

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 5
Part 6

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.