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 George Burroughs

A conversation between Tony Fels and Margo Burns about the confessions during the Salem witch trials. Read the original post, part 1, part 2, and part 3.

Margo Burns responds:

Tony: Thanks for your thoughtful reply, but I still don’t accept your claim that my argument is based on the “straw man.” It is very common in popular explanations of the trials to claim that people consciously confessed to save themselves. As for “No serious historian of the Salem witch hunt believes that the confessors thought that, in confessing, they had obtained a ‘get out of jail free card’ or had ‘caught on to the deal’ about how to handle the witchcraft interrogators,” here are four—Norton, Rosenthal, Baker, and Ray—who suggest that the confessors themselves believed that confession would spare their lives:

1) Mary Beth Norton, In the Devil’s Snare, p. 303: “By [August and September], as other scholars have pointed out, it had become clear to the accused that confessors were not being tried.”

2) Bernard Rosenthal, Salem Story, p. 151: “Some did manage to escape; those who could not generally opted to save their lives by confession.” p. 155: “On September 1, [Samuel] Wardwell, in a move that he had every right to believe would protect him, confessed to his witchcraft.”

3) Emerson W. Baker, A Storm of Witchcraft, p. 154: “So when [Samuel] Wardwell was questioned about witchcraft on September 1, he and others appear to have believed that confessing would at least delay their trial and execution, and might possibly even spare their lives.” p. 155: “[B]y the time [George] Burroughs was executed on August 19, it was clear that straightforward denials would be no use. Anyone who had pled not guilty was quickly convicted and executed .… Confession and cooperation at least gave the advantage of delay and offered some hope that the individual might ultimately be spared.”

4) Benjamin Ray, Satan & Salem, p. 123: “[Sarah] Churchill never formally retracted her confession. She almost certainly realized that to have done so would have forced the judges to put her on trial.” p. 125: “Hobbs and [Mary] Lacey clearly believed themselves to be free from trial because of their confessions.”

When I return to my original post in this thread, the point I was trying to make is that I do not accept the popular portrayal of those executed as martyrs. A martyr, by definition, is “a person who sacrifices something of great value and especially life itself for the sake of principle.” For this to be true, those who hanged would have felt or known that they had a choice that could affect whether they lived or died. That is just not true. This is all part of the general origin myth of America portraying our ancestors as noble. Then of course there had to be a reason why the condemned didn’t confess and save themselves, right? Maybe they were really principled Puritans, not willing to “belie” themselves. Really? This is not the case. Part of dismantling this whole portrayal is careful examination of what the accused could actually have known and when they could possibly have known it. The timelines of prosecutions and confessions don’t have any correlation, then or now. The confessions were coerced, which removes the possibility that the confessors knew what they were doing. The people who were executed are not martyrs, including my own ancestor, Rebecca Nurse. They were victims and it was tragic what happened to them, but they had no more agency in the outcome than the people who confessed had.

You are correct, Tony, that I put the blame and responsibility for the whole episode on the judges, because they controlled everything. They decided which legal precedents to follow and which to reject. From the start, local magistrates John Hathorne and Jonathan Corwin made multiple decisions to accept all accusations. They entertained spectral evidence as valid, and then held everyone over in jail without the option of being released on bond, against legal precedent. These and other local magistrates were the ones coercing the false confessions. As for the assertion that the judges were all elected, that was not the case. William Phips and William Stoughton received their commissions as Governor and Lt. Governor from King William & Queen Mary in the new charter. Phips handed the management of the legal system over to Stoughton—when precedent would have had put the Governor himself in charge of such a court. Stoughton processed all these cases rapidly and left no opportunity for the convicted to appeal their sentences to the General Court, again, against precedent. Stoughton had been a judge on a variety of courts across Massachusetts and Maine for two decades and had served on the bench during numerous witchcraft cases before this, and he chose to handle things differently in 1692.


Margo Burns is the associate editor and project manager of Records of the Salem Witch-Hunt (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.

Ann Foster examination, 1692

A conversation between Tony Fels and Margo Burns about the confessions during the Salem witch trials. Read the original post and part 1.

Margo Burns responds.

Tony, respectfully, it’s necessary to look at the historical data more closely—per case and on a timeline—before making claims about patterns that may have been discernable by the accused at the time they were accused. It’s simply not possible that the 11 people who confessed between February and May could have discerned any “pattern” about how their cases would be handled and made choices to confess. The magistrates easily forced confessions out of these people, people who were vulnerable and easily manipulated to say anything the authorities demanded of them—youths, people with low social status, or with some mental defect. And hardly people who were looking at some “big picture” or as some kind of “legal strategy.” No one knew anything about the plans or timing for prosecution anyway, or for certain who the Crown’s attorney or Chief Magistrate would be. At that point, June 2, over 70 people were in custody and 11 had confessed. Before then no one could have thought that confession might be some kind of get out of jail free card, especially considering that in the most recent witchcraft case in Boston, just three years earlier, with Stoughton on that bench. Goody Glover confessed and was hanged. Why would they think it would be different for them?

The first mittimus, in late May, to bring accused people back to Salem from jail in Boston for trial comprised a list of eight people who would ultimately put on trial that summer, plus Tituba, a confessor. While Tituba was the only one not tried that summer, she completely disappears from the legal record until she pops up again a whole year later to have her case dismissed. There is no way to figure out why. She is not part of any of the trials, including Sarah Good’s, for which she should have been a prime witness but she’s not there. The second best convictive standard as evidence in a witchcraft case was the testimony of a confessed witch—so why wasn’t Tituba called as a witness? By mid-July, this is all anyone knew about how things were going to unfold. A single data point, Tituba, does not make a pattern, and she wasn’t used as a witness against anyone.

By late June, before the court hanged 5 more people, the first prosecutor left, and frankly, a lot of things were up in the air about how the following cases would be handled. Ann Foster was interrogated five separate times in mid-July to produce a pretty amazing confession. How could she have concluded anything except that the authorities demanded a confession from her and would not stop until she had? And so she did. That is the purpose of interrogation: to elicit a confession to make prosecution easier. It’s hard to argue with evidence of someone speaking against their own self-interest. Before the Court had even convened in early June, only those 11 people had confessed. ALL the rest of the confessions, 43 of them, starting with Ann Foster’s, came from Andover residents or those who lived near enough to attend the church in Andover or were part of a family from Andover. You’d think that if there was a pattern to be discerned, people in other towns would have figured it out, too, to save themselves. Maybe you’d have some people who were already being prosecuted who would have caught on to the “deal” and recanted their claims to innocence at trial and thrown themselves on the mercy of the court, but no one did.

It’s also important to look at the recantations from several fully covenanted members of the Andover church who confessed in August under pressure and immediately recanted when the interrogations ended. Why would they recant? None of them claimed they’d confessed because they knew it would help them in any way, despite what they may have been told during the interrogations. For the rest of that summer, the interrogators used high-pressure interrogation tactics to coerce false confessions. The case of Samuel Wardwell in September is telling. He was the first confessor to be tried, and was hanged. When the time came for him to acknowledge his confession, he refused. He had discerned a pattern: everyone who was indicted end up being hanged. He knew that it didn’t matter if he confessed or not, and he knew his confession had been coerced. The court was going to hang him either way, so he recanted it.

In September, Dorcas Hoar possibly made a legal last-ditch effort to get some extra time before certain execution by confessing after she was sentenced. She probably did see that the four confessors sentenced to die got temporary stays, but it seems really unlikely that she was in a position to leverage four ministers to come to her aid to close the deal, unless it was in their best interest somehow, perhaps to show that it was still possible to save one’s soul.

I appreciate your effort to make the people who were executed “noble” for not confessing, but it’s revisionist history.

Continue to Part 3.


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.

#CommissionsEarned on Amazon links.

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!

seasonal magazines on Salem witch trialsEvery October it’s inevitable that new publications on the Salem witch trials are published. It’s odd because the witches of our Halloween imaginations have nothing to do with the innocent people hanged in 1692. This time one of the new entries, The Salem Witch Trials: The True Witch Hunt of 1692 and Its Legacy Today, you’ll find tucked between other seasonal special issues on the magazine shelves.

The Time-Life branded magazine covers a broad sweep of history in its 96 pages, from European origins and witch hunts of today to Arthur Miller’s play, The Crucible, and modern witchcraft. Like many ideas designed to make a quick buck, this one is rife with mistakes big and small. To be fair, that’s one of the most difficult problems with telling the Salem story: for more than 300 years, this one event has been cloaked in embarrassment while physical and historical details have been lost. Not having a witch-hunt historian to oversee or edit this project results in all sorts of difficulties.

Let’s hit on the easy mistakes. The trials occurred in Salem, now a city, though the first accusations of witchcraft happened in Salem Village, now known as the town of Danvers. Throughout the magazine, this geographic distinction is so confused that even the House of the Seven Gables is misplaced (94).

While the witch trials did make Salem the epicenter and focus of tourism, it’s not accurate to repeatedly say Salem has “embraced its history.” The city is known for its maritime trade, its literary scene, its unique and Far East-inspired architecture, its influence on education, and so much more, but it’s the dark shadow of the witch trials that not all the Salemites “embrace.” Of course, Salem has a plethora of witch shops and witch-related attractions, which some locals like and others hate—especially in October.

Of English traditions

In the 17th century, Massachusetts Bay Colonists were not exactly “European immigrants.” As an English colony, most people came from England. Plus, English witch hunts were much different from European ones. In Europe, witchcraft was considered heresy, which is why the Catholic Church and the pope-appointed Inquisitors rooted out witches and punished those found guilty by burning them to death. During Queen Mary Tudor’s reign, 1553-1558, English Protestants and other nonconformists who opposed her Catholic rule were charged with heresy and burned to death. However, English witchcraft accusations percolated up from the people to the courts and was a capital offense, punished by hanging (10-29).

Witchcraft and folk magic were very much a part of everyday life (6, 34). Puritans—from Harvard graduates and ministers to farmers, merchants, and sailors—believed in witches. Some were skeptical about the accusations, but notables like Puritan minister Cotton Mather and Judge William Stoughton believed witches were making pacts with the Devil to destroy their communities and take down their churches. Using occult magic (tarot cards, palmistry, dowsing, astrology, predicting the future, etc.) was fraternizing with the Devil to gain goods or knowledge that only God should have, while maleficent witchcraft (like cursing, casting spells, giving the evil eye) used the Devil to harm individuals, animals, crops, and cause other devastations.

Being a Puritan

All Massachusetts Bay people were required to attend church and could be punished if they did not. But only members were allowed to receive communion, baptize their children, and hold positions in the church (and in the government before the 1692 charter). Church membership required evidence of a personal conversion experience that confirmed to themselves that they were “elect” in the eyes of God, followed by the men sharing their conversion experience in front of the congregation, and a vote by members on whether they believed that person was qualified to join the ranks of members. (Women sometimes had church leaders speak for them.)

Each household was required to pay their share of the minister’s annual salary whether they were members or not, Puritan or not (9). Salem Village had three ministers within 16 years, a high turnover rate caused by village conflicts that meant members could not afford to be too picky when ministerial applicants interviewed. That’s why they accepted Samuel Parris, who never finished his Harvard education, had little ministering experience, and lacked the training to unify people. He had the upper hand, driving a hard bargain as far as his salary and demanding that the congregation ordain him as a minister (42).

Individual details

Tituba was a Native American and is referred to as an “Indian” and “servant” throughout the trial records. During the 19th century, revisionists turned her into an African American who practiced voodoo and lured young girls with stories of island life and magic. This unlikely circle of girls didn’t hang out in the Parris kitchen; they had plenty of chores to keep them occupied. Tituba most likely lived in Barbados before coming to Massachusetts, but her testimony is full of English demons and witches, not native beliefs and superstitions (38, 42, 43, 44, 57).

Tituba—and everyone else who falsely confessed to witchcraft—avoided execution not from confessing but because the trials started to wind down before they were tried (45). Judge Stoughton was ready to hang all the confessors. As the accused witches from Andover learned, people who had confessed were still in jail while some who cried innocence were dead. They may have been counting on the advantage of time to reprieve them. Tituba remained in jail because she confessed and was considered guilty. She, and everyone else who was not released on bail, stayed in prison until the general gaol (jail) delivery in spring 1693—which required them to pay their jail fees before being released (51).

Sarah Good and Sarah Osborne were not “condemned … when they refused to confess” (38). The court used spectral evidence, the afflicteds’ reactions to the accused, and the statements of others to convict. Osborne died in jail before her trial, so there was no verdict to execute her.

Sarah Good’s baby girl was born in December 1691, before her incarceration (38). Her 4- or 5-year-old daughter Dorothy Good was charged (not “convicted”) with witchcraft and jailed to await her trial. Her name was not “Dorcas”—a mistake made once and corrected in the trial records—which is not a nickname for Dorothy (46).

Philip and Mary English of Salem were arrested and jailed on charges of witchcraft. After weeks of being in the Boston jail, they escaped (52).

Salem witch trials
Gov. William Phips

Sir William Phips did not know of the witch-hunt crisis before coming to Massachusetts. He arrived to start a new government based on the new charter by William & Mary that curtailed some of the activities that the colonists previously enjoyed. In October 1692, Phips allowed some of the prisoners in jail, mostly children, to be let out on bail, to be recalled at a future date for trial. Prisoners who had been jailed based on spectral evidence still needed to wait for their trials to be held before being judged innocent. Only people whose verdicts were guilty and were sentenced to hang needed to be pardoned by Governor Phips (47, 51).

Ministers were on both sides of the witch trials debate. It was only Judge Nathaniel Saltonstall who “express[ed] doubts about the process” and resigned from the Court of Oyer and Terminer in June 1692. A change of heart did not happen when the new court handled the witch trials cases in January 1693; instead, the judges were told they must disregard all spectral evidence. Besides Judge Samuel Sewall (in 1697), no other judges publicly apologized, though 12 jury members during the witch trials asked pardon of God, of “the living sufferers,” and of “all whom we have justly offended” in Salem (51, 55).

Ann Putnam Jr., one of the major afflicted accusers, sought church membership in 1706 in the Salem Village church, now Danvers (55). She was received into full communion, with the support and guidance of Rev. Joseph Green.

Only the victims and their families who petitioned received financial reparations (55). Most did not. Businessman Philip English, whose goods and fortune were stolen by Sheriff George Corwin, received very little money for all that he lost (55).

Hundreds (maybe even thousands) of writers, “historians, psychologists, and scientists” have spent years trying to understand why the witch hunts happened (57).

History matters

Politicians today misuse the term “witch hunt” not because they are innocent victims but to flip the blame on those who expose the politician’s wrongdoings. Taking a broad look at this political trend is interesting, especially when you have Life photographs to fill the pages. Producing a full-color magazine to grab that short sale at the checkout line seems disingenuous.

Salem is a weighty subject, with layers of inaccurate details that accumulated over the centuries. Even though Salem has the best collection of witch trial records available, it’s hard to separate fact from what we learned in school, The Crucible, TV and film productions, tourist attractions, and modern witchcraft. These details trip up unwary writers and editors who have not spent years studying the witch trials.

Note: I am not pointing out every error I found, nor did I read the accompanying articles (modern witchcraft, The Crucible) in the magazine. This post follows up on an article in the Salem News, “Historians critical of magazine on Salem witch trials” (4 Nov. 2018) for which I was interviewed, along with historian and public speaker Margo Burns and Kelly Daniell, curator for the Peabody Historical Society and Museum.

If you’re looking for one of the most up-to-date and historically accurate read on the Salem witch trials, the best book currently on the market is Emerson W. Baker’s A Storm of Witchcraft (2015).

Note: This article was published in November 2018 and refers to the magazine issue that came out in 2018. I’ve seen the same magazine cover on bookstore shelves since then and I do not know if the latest version has been updated since 2018.

When the witch hunt started in Salem Village in February 1692, the Massachusetts colonists were waiting for Rev. Increase Mather to return home from England with a new governor, Sir William Phips, and joint monarchs William & Mary’s new charter. In the interim, four magistrates held examinations (hearings) to see if any of the accused should be held for trial. The jails in Salem, Boston, Ipswich, and elsewhere were filled with accused witches when Governor Phips arrived in May 1692. In short order, he established the special Court of Oyer and Terminer to handle the witchcraft cases, before heading northward to handle military issues with the Native Americans.

Led by Lieutenant Governor William Stoughton, the Salem court had an imposing job set before them: Discover witches during unruly public meetings filled with afflicted accusers, scared or disbelieving townspeople, and bewildering stories of possession, strange occurrences, unexplained deaths, animal familiars, black Sabbaths, and the like.

Following the Rules?

In December 1641, the Massachusetts Bay Colony published the Body of Liberties. These 100 rules, which were based on both English law and Biblical law, were intended to be the foundation of the colony’s court system.

Under rule 94, Capital Laws, number 2 it says:

“If any man or woman be a witch, that is, hath or consulteth with a familiar spirit, they shall be put to death.”

Deuteronomy 18:10-11 had a much larger definition: “There shall not be found among you any one that maketh his son or his daughter to pass through the fire, or that useth divination, or an observer of times, or an enchanter, or a witch, or a charmer, or a consulter with familiar spirits, or a wizard, or a necromancer.” But the Salem judges specifically were looking for Sarah Good’s yellow bird or Bridget Bishop’s cat.

So, let’s look at some of the other legal points and see how they pertained to the Salem witch trials.

26. Any man that findeth himself unfit to plead his own cause in any Court, shall have the liberty to employ any man against whom the Court doth not except, to help him provided he give him no fee or reward for his pains. This shall not except the party himself from answering such questions in person as the Court shall think meet to demand of him.

On 9 September 1692, sisters Sarah (Towne) Cloyce and Mary (Towne) Estey petitioned the court to allow testimony on their behalf, “seeing we are neither able to plead our own cause, nor is council allowed to those in our condition” (Records of the Salem Witch-Hunt, p. 620). These two eloquent women were fit to plead their cases, but clearly were not allowed to in the Salem court. They had no defense attorney and the judges were acting as prosecutors.

45. No man shall be forced by torture to confess any crime against himself nor any other unless it be in some capital case where he is first fully convicted by clear and sufficient evidence to be guilty. After which, if the cause be of that nature, that it is very apparent that there be other conspirators or confederates with him, then he may be tortured, yet not with such tortures as be barbarous and inhumane.

According to accused witch John Proctor, 18-year-old Richard Carrier and his 16-year-old brother Andrew Carrier, “would not confess anything till they tied them neck and heels till the blood was ready to come out of their noses” (Robert Calef, More Wonders of the Invisible World, 1700). The Carrier brothers had not even been indicted, much less been charged guilty before being tortured.

46. For bodily punishments we allow amongst us none that are inhumane, barbarous, or cruel.

It goes without saying that peine forte et dure, or being pressed to death like Giles Corey, is “inhumane, barbarous, or cruel.” Once the rocks were placed on his prone form, even if the 70-year-old Corey changed his mind and started talking, he’d probably die from the internal injuries anyway. It took him hours to die.

47. No man shall be put to death without the testimony of two or three witnesses, or that which is equivalent thereunto.

Since witchcraft meant being in league with the Devil, it’s surprising that the justices did not rely on the opinion of several prominent ministers who were against using spectral evidence—visions seen only by the afflicted accusers—as the main reason to charge a person. Nor did the justices find conflict in accepting the words, visions, and bodily contortions of the afflicted accusers that one could say were possessed by the Devil themselves. The afflicted accusers often supported each other’s testimonies or mimicked each other during the trials. The people in the court house became witnesses of the afflicted accusers.

Confessed witches sometimes claimed to have seen other accused witches at witch meetings. Since the court was using confessors to find more witches, the confessors were spared until a later date (that never came). In most circumstances, confessing to a crime was as good as or better than having two witnesses. Yet none of the confessors were hanged before Governor Phips stopped the trials.

94 Capital 11. If any man rise up by false witness, wittingly and of purpose to take away any man’s life, he shall be put to death.

After the trials were over, we don’t hear much backlash against the accusers or the judges and jury. Some disappear from the records, while others, such as Judge Stoughton, continued to be prominent members of society. However, Judge Samuel Sewall, numerous jurymen, and accuser Ann Putnam Jr. publicly asked for forgiveness for their part in the trials.

reposted from Genealogy Ink

Sometimes you’re so sure your ancestor is buried in a certain cemetery, but you can’t find any proof. Unfortunately, someone went too far.

Besides the obvious lines to keep the lettering straight, you can tell by the B, the Y, and the shape of the numbers that someone added inscriptions on these stones centuries after the originals were carved. Until 1752, Massachusetts records often used double dating to account for the difference between the Julian and Gregorian calendars. While not every gravestone would show double dating, it’s worth mentioning that Thomas was baptized 28 February 1610/11 and died 16 March 1694/5. For married women, gravestones said “wife of” or “daughter of” if the maiden name was used (for example, “Mary Perkins, wife of Thomas Bradbury,” or “Mary Bradbury, daughter of John Perkins”). Plus, Mary’s dates are wrong.

In 2007, Chester and Julia True printed Burials in some cemeteries in the towns of Salisbury, Amesbury, and Merrimac, in Essex county, Massachusetts. The two markers shown above, whose photos were taken at a later date, are not listed in the book. However, in the Old Burying Ground in Salisbury, you will find the couple’s grandson, Thomas Bradbury (1674-1718). And that’s an original gravestone.

Mary on Trial

On 26 May 1692, Ann Putnam Jr. and others were attacked by specters on Lecture Day, including the specter of Mary Bradbury of Salisbury. A month later, Mary was arrested. Despite friends and neighbors from Salisbury and Ipswich attesting to Mary’s good character, on 10 September 1692, Mary and five others were found guilty of witchcraft and sentenced to hang. From the existing records, it appears Mary escaped jail before the hangings occurred 12 days later.

On 14 January 1693, Judge William Stoughton signed death warrants for five condemned witches from the previous Court of Oyer and Terminer, including Mary Bradbury. In his report to Governor William Phips, however, King’s Attorney Anthony Checkley was of the opinion that the earlier cases were much like the cleared cases before the new Supreme Court of Judicature, being based on spectral evidence. On 1 February 1693, Gov. Phips sent a reprieve to the Salem court, which infuriated Judge Stoughton, but saved the lives of Mary Bradbury and seven others who were expected to be hanged that day.

For many 17th-century people, their gravestones do not exist today. But, Mary, we remember you.