Category Archives: August

08/1692

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Aug 12: The doomed George Jacobs Sr. dictates a new will

Today in Salem: The jail keeper spits on the already filthy floor, then sits in the only chair at the table, pulling the paper, quill, and ink closer. George Jacobs Sr. looms over his shoulder, watching the jail keeper write the first words.

“Why are you doing this?” the jail keeper says, and dips the quill into the black ink. “There’s nothing left. You know that,” he says. But Jacobs just stares at him.

“Write it,” Jacobs says, and thumps his walking stick. One week from today he will meet the hangman, and there’s much to do.

The candles on the walls are nearly burnt to stubs, and the smell of hot wax underlies the stink of the jail. Now the jail keeper leans closer to the pahe per and writes in the flickering light as Jacobs dictates.

As with the harsh John Proctor before him, the sheriff has confiscated everything Jacobs owns except his property. Jacobs leaves it to his wife, whose wedding ring is now sinking into the Sheriff’s pocket, and adds a £10 legacy to his 16-year-old granddaughter. Who knows where that £10 will come from? Still, it’s far from a hollow gesture. Three months ago this granddaughter had accused him, then testified against him. Within days, though, she’d broken down, sobbing, and recanted. It had made no difference to the court. But it meant something to Jacobs.

“Nothing for your children?” the jail keeper asks. But Jacobs just shakes his head, once, and takes the pen, leaning in to make his mark.

Tomorrow in Salem: Rev Cotton Mather says what he thinks… again

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Aug 9: A question of logic

Today in Salem: One of the judges receives a letter from an esteemed man who’s worked with the courts for 40 years. He’d helped with the case of the sharp-tongued Susannah Martin, who was hanged less than a month ago. But now, as the next round of hangings approaches, he’s feeling uneasy. He’s compelled to ask: Is the court using the right methods to find and execute witches? Are innocent people being hanged?

Like all Puritans, he 100% believes that witches and witchcraft exist. And he doesn’t argue with the fact that witches must be executed. But the logic of the trials seems dangerously wrong, and he lays out his case point by point.

  • According to the Bible, anyone can be a witch, whether they’re virtuous or not.
  • A good reputation doesn’t mean a person is innocent. Likewise, a bad reputation doesn’t mean they’re guilty.
  • Satan can disguise himself as anyone’s specter, whether they’re guilty or innocent.
  • The judges say that Satan can’t impersonate an innocent person without their permission (which changes that person’s status to guilty). But what if that’s wrong? Isn’t Satan evil and powerful enough to impersonate someone without permission? How would the court know?
  • During the trials, the afflicted girls often say they can see the accused witch’s specter at that very moment, in the courtroom, causing harm. But why would a witch do that? Practicing witchcraft in front of the judges isn’t in her best interest.
  • According to the judges, accusations from another witch were proof of guilt. But why would a witch accuse others? The Bible says a kingdom divided against itself will fall. Aren’t the witches all part of the same kingdom? Doesn’t that give them more reason to protect each other?

Other objections to the trials have been based on interpreting scripture. This argument, though, is pure logic, intellectual in its approach. The judge tucks it away with his important papers to consider later.

Tomorrow in Salem: The doomed George Jacobs Sr. dictates a new will

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Aug 8: Fire and the fortuneteller

Today in Salem: The fortuneteller Samuel Wardwell is choking on the acrid smoke that’s pouring from a burning house. He can feel it in the back of his throat, stinging his eyes, brushing his face with hot ash. He’s seen a house burn once before, when the Proctor’s chimney caught fire. But that was at a distance, and now, close up, he’s surprised by the sharp smell, the sound of wood cracking in the flames, the wind of it in his hair.

It’s night time, but the flames are bright, and he can see his wife’s tears as she hits him with her tiny fists. She’s saying something, but he can’t hear her above the noise of the blaze and the shouts of the others. He doesn’t need to, though. The fire has interrupted the funeral for her brother, who, instead of being buried, is now being consumed by the fire.

Even Samuel, a fortuneteller, doesn’t know how the blaze started. He and the others had just discovered that gallons of funeral wine — gallons — had been stolen, when they heard triumphant shouts, footsteps running, followed quickly by the smell of smoke. But the questions would never be answered. Who started the fire? and why?

WHO was Samuel Wardwell?

Age 49. Dabbled in fortune telling as a young man. To save his life, he confessed & submitted a long and detailed story of his indiscretions. He later recanted and claimed innocence. Case files: Samuel Wardwell 

Tomorrow in Salem: A question of logic

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Aug 7: A letter from prison

Today in Salem: It’s a murderously hot Sabbath, and while the afflicted girls fan themselves in the meeting house, the minister George Burroughs perspires in his jail cell.

He touches his Bible and, with one finger, traces the cracks in the leather. Who knows how many more Sabbaths he will see? He turns the Bible over and rubs the cover with his thumb. He’s always kept a few sheets of blank paper tucked behind the final pages. Now he opens the back cover and pulls one out.

“Salem Gaol” he writes at the top, and then “My Dear Children.” He’s written to them several times from prison, with exhortations to pray and learn from scripture, to be obedient and well-mannered. This letter is much like the others except the hand is a little neater, the quill strokes firmer, and the wax seal more deeply impressed. This may be the last time he writes to them, and with a reminder to love the Lord with all their hearts, he signs his name with a period at the end.

Tomorrow in Salem: Fire and the fortuneteller

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Aug 6: GUILTY: the incredulous farmer and the flawed former deputy

Today in Salem: The tall and abusive George Jacobs Sr. is leaning forward on both of his canes, incredulous. This is his trial. His trial. He will live or die by this. But the judges have asked almost no challenging questions of his accusers, and they’re giving Jacobs almost no time to defend himself.

His lazy servant says he’s beaten her with his canes. (Never.) A neighbor says ghosts have told him that Jacobs had murdered them. (Ridiculous.) A confessed witch says she’s seen him at witches’ meetings. (Heresy.) The judges finally turn toward him and press him to confess, but Jacobs will not plead guilty, he will not belie himself, no matter how threatening the judges are.

But the judges are impatient. Another trial is waiting, and they have no time for prolonged lies from someone who’s obviously guilty. The jury retires but comes back so quickly it’s hard to believe they spoke a single word to one another. Guilty, they say. Jacobs will hang for his sins.

John Willard: A violent and principled man

Now the former deputy John Willard is standing in court, gritting his teeth and trying to unclench his fists. Yes, he tells the judges, when they ask about his occupation. Everyone knows he was a deputy, until two months ago. What’s wrong with that?

More problematic: Yes, he’d quit his job in protest. People were accused of witchcraft, but he knew, he knew they were innocent. He couldn’t bring himself to arrest them, so he’d defied the judges, ministers, and law men and walked away from his job.

None of this is new. But now the shrieking accusers have turned on him, and the judges only nod in assent. Willard himself must be in league with the Devil. Why else would he want people who were obviously guilty to go free?

And now his in-laws are testifying about his greatest flaw. He brings evil into his home, they say. Only the Devil could make someone so cruel to his wife. He’s beaten her more than once, and they, her parents, have helped her many times. Once he’d beaten her so violently that she’d hidden in a stairwell all night before escaping by horseback to her parents’ home.

He has no answer for that, but then his abused wife stands up and pleads his case. She’s been visiting him regularly in both prisons, in Salem of course but even in Boston, a full day of riding out and back. She takes care to bring him food and clean clothing. And she needs his help to raise enough food for their children. Doesn’t that count for something?

Maybe it does, but it’s not enough. John Willard is declared guilty, and sentenced to hang.

Tomorrow in Salem: A letter from prison

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Aug 5: GUILTY: the minister George Burroughs

Today in Salem: Prominent ministers have arrived from Boston, an unusually large number of witnesses are ready to testify, and the crowd is nearly overflowing the courtroom. This is the trial they’ve been waiting for. George Burroughs is no ordinary citizen. He’s a minister, pretending to lead his own church while scheming with the Devil to destroy them throughout New England. Burroughs doesn’t work for Satan. He works with him.

The afflicted girls lead off with sensational convulsions and seizures, more dramatic than ever before. They choke and cry and show bite marks on their wrists. They tell how Burroughs’ specter murdered his first two wives. And not just that! They point to a prominent minister at the front of the crowd. “His, too!” they shriek in unison. “Burroughs killed his wife and child, too!”

Eight people, each one of them a confessed witch, testify that Burroughs led large meetings of witches, that he forced them to torment people with thorns and poppets.

Nine more people testify that Burroughs is also suspiciously evil in person, in the real world. For one thing, he’s extraordinarily strong for such a short man. They repeat the stories from his hearing three months ago, that he held a 7-foot rifle with nothing but his forefinger stuck in the barrel; that he single-handedly lifted a barrel full of molasses from a wobbling canoe. And not just that: He was so barbarous with his wives that he nearly killed them, then made the people who saw it promise not to tell.

Finally the judges turn toward Burroughs, who reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper that he hands to them. There is no such thing as a witch, it says. It’s impossible to make a pact with the Devil, or to make the Devil follow orders. But the judges recognize what he’s written. He’s plagiarized it, from a highly controversial book no less.

At first Burroughs denies it. He would never copy someone else’s work, he says. Cornered though, he finally admits to it, and the judges wonder: has he been lying throughout his entire trial? The jury agrees. Guilty.

Burroughs will not go quietly, though, and he continues to expound on his innocence. He can see why the court has declared him guilty, he says, especially given the mountain of evidence before them.

“But they’re lying,” he says. “The witnesses are lying, and I will die because of it. I will die because of their lies.”

The court will have none of it. The minister George Burroughs will hang.

Tomorrow in Salem: GUILTY: the incredulous farmer and the flawed former deputy

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Aug 4: GUILTY: John and Elizabeth Proctor

Today in Salem: The harsh John Proctor and his pregnant wife Elizabeth are standing trial.

Most of the testimony against John is from the afflicted girls, especially his servant Mary Warren. She’s been accusing him for months, but today her testimony carries more weight. Until now she’s been flip-flopping, sometimes saying she’s being tormented by specters, and sometimes confessing to witchcraft herself. Now she’s saying both at the same time – that she’s afflicted and she’s a witch herself. It’s hard for the judges to argue with that.

John wills his heartbeat to slow down as he presents his last chance. A few days ago, the governor denied his request for more thought, and the ministers from Boston have declined to witness his trial. Now he hands two petitions to the judges; an affidavit signed by 32 friends and family who knew him growing up, and a letter signed by 20 other people, saying none of them has ever suspected the Proctors of witchcraft.

The opinion of 52 people doesn’t outweigh the complaints of the afflicted girls and sickly neighbors. John is declared guilty.

Elizabeth’s accusers are more numerous: the afflicted girls complain about torment and even murder, and one neighbor tells sensational stories of shrieking and fighting at the Proctor home. So it’s no surprise that Elizabeth is declared guilty.

Elizabeth puts a hand on her stomach and pleads for a delay. “I’m with child,” she says. “Please.” It doesn’t change the verdict, but the judges do postpone her execution until after she gives birth.

Tomorrow in Salem: GUILTY: the minister George Burroughs