Today in Salem: The jail keeper clenches his jaw and closes his eyes as the fire in the hearth gutters and flares. It’s nighttime, cool with an early autumn breeze, and while normally it would be a pleasant enough evening, the jail keeper is too distracted to notice.
Just yesterday, the 77-year-old Mary Bradbury was found guilty and condemned for witchcraft. But she is distinguished, and her husband’s family is connected to English royalty. Given her station, she was allowed to roam freely during the day, as long as she returned by night. Now it’s obvious she isn’t coming back. She’s escaped, disappeared, vanished like smoke from a fire.
Dorcas Hoar grasps at straws
In a basement cell, the fortuneteller and now shorn Dorcas Hoar cries and rubs her hand over her nearly shaved head. Lying is a terrible sin, and God will surely punish her for it. But confession is the only way she herself can escape the noose. So she asks to see the judges, and tells them that she does, indeed, practice witchcraft. What’s more, she can identify other witches. I can help you, she cries.
Her performance is less than convincing, though, and the judges leave her in her cell, condemned as before.
A list is finalized
In his rooms, Chief Justice Stoughton signs the death warrants for all six of the women tried this week: the gospel woman Martha Corey, the pious Mary Esty, the shrew Alice Parker, the nurse Ann Pudeator, the fortuneteller Dorcas Hoar, and the elderly and distinguished Mary Bradbury.