Tag Archives: Ann Pudeator

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Sep 22: HANGED: Alice Parker, Ann Pudeator, Margaret Scott, Martha Corey, Mary Esty, Mary Parker, Samuel Wardwell, Wilmot Redd

Today in Salem: Just as there can be too much of a good thing, the people of Salem are beginning to think there’s too much of a bad thing. Of the 16 people who’ve been condemned, 8 are now squeezed into an ox cart, packed so tightly that they can only stand, not sit.

8 people, 8 nooses, 8 ladders.

This is the fourth hanging the crowd has witnessed, and the people are restive and unsure. So when the pious Mary Esty says an affectionate goodbye to her husband and children, nearly everyone begins to cry. Most of her children are grown, but her 14-year-old son is there, looking manly, breathing heavily and standing tall next to his father.

Next to her, the fortuneteller Samuel Wardwell tries to say he’s innocent, but he chokes on the executioner’s pipe smoke before he can finish.

The know-it-all Gospel Woman Martha Corey, with her husband Giles pressed to death only 3 days ago, is suddenly pitiable as she pleads her innocence once more, then prays sincerely.

The others – the fainting shrew Alice Parker, the widow Mary Parker, the nurse Ann Pudeator, the ornery Wilmot Redd, and the elderly beggar Margaret Scott – have scarcely finished their last words when the executioner pushes the ladders out from each one, all 8, until they’ve stopped kicking and are swinging slowly, lifeless.

“What a sad thing it is,” says the minister, “to see eight firebrands of Hell hanging there.”

Tomorrow in Salem: A clearing in the sky

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Sep 10: An escape and a plea

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.

Tomorrow in Salem: The Gospel Woman is Excommunicated

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Sep 9: A nurse and a lady on trial

Today in Salem: Twenty jars of grease. Granted, they’re small jars. No one denies that. But it’s suspicious. What is the grease for? The nurse Ann Pudeator has already explained this once, back in July, during her hearing. It’s for soap, not ointments. Why is this coming up again?

It hardly matters. The court already has two other accusations of real-world evil. When her husband’s first wife died suddenly, Ann was suspected of killing her. Then he himself died, and left Ann with considerable property. Did she murder them both for money?

As for spectral evil, her neighbors testify that they’ve seen her specter, which has pinched someone until they’re black and blue.

Finally Mary Warren, a confessed witch, says that Ann had made a man fall out of a tree just by looking at him.

The judges find her guilty.

The distinguished Mary Bradbury’s trial

The distinguished Mary Bradbury stands tall before the court. She is 77 and frail, but no less regal in her bearing. Her husband is a leader in the colony. Not only that, but his great-uncle had been the Archbishop of Canterbury under Queen Elizabeth.

She and her husband are widely respected. In fact, the judges have several petitions in her favor, one of them signed by 115 people, including a minister and several magistrates. But they don’t outweigh testimony that her specter tormented a man who is loathed for his assaults on women. As much as people detest him, though, spectral torment is still evil.

Mary is also accused of selling butter that turned rancid, and causing the death of sheep, horses, and even men.

The judges have made up their minds, though. Even with her pedigree and wide support, the judges pronounce her guilty.

Later she will plead ”not guilty” in writing.

The Answer of Mary Bradbury in the charge of Witchcraft or familliarity with the Divell I doe plead not guilty.

I am wholly inocent of any such wickedness through the goodness of god that have kept mee hitherto) I am the servant of Jesus Christ & Have given my self up to him as my only lord & saviour: and to the dilligent attendance upon him in all his holy ordinances, in utter contempt & defiance of the divell, and all his works as horid & detestible; and accordingly have endevo’red to frame my life; & conversation according to the rules of his holy word, & in that faith & practise resolve by the help and assistance of god to contineu to my lifes end: for the truth of what I say as to matter of practiss I humbly refer my self to my brethren & neighbors that know mee and unto the searcher of all hearts for the truth & uprightness of my heart therein: (human frailties, & unavoydable infirmities excepted) of which i bitterly complayne every day:/ Mary Bradbury

The condemned

It’s close to nightfall as the court scribe puts his notes together. Five women have now been sentenced: the fortuneteller and now shorn Dorcas Hoar, the shrew Alice Parker, the pious Mary Esty, the nurse Ann Pudeator, and the distinguished Mary Bradbury.

Tomorrow in Salem: An escape and a plea

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July 2: JAILED AGAIN: the healer Ann Pudeator

Today in Salem: The healer Ann Pudeator is incredulous, standing in the tavern where a crowd has gathered to watch the judges question her. It’s the second time they’ve dragged her in for a hearing, and another step toward a life-or-death trial if she can’t answer their questions.

This time the judges want to know about the mysterious healing ointments the Constable has found in her house. There are more than a nurse or midwife needs. What exactly are they?

Ann waits a few seconds before answering. They’re not ointments, she says. It’s just grease, for making soap.

Now it’s the judges turn to be disbelieving. Grease? In numerous jars, all partly filled, when one jar would hold all of it? And why were the jars found throughout her house? Ann is adamant that it’s just grease for soap, but she’s vague about the jars.

Mysterious jars of ointment aren’t enough to hold her, so the judges turn to the usual 3 categories of evidence: afflicted girls (yes, they’ve seen her specter), disgruntled neighbors (the Constable, whose sister-in-law died mysteriously under Ann’s care), and accusations from confessed witches (the on-again off-again Mary Warren is now clinging to her confession and points to Ann).

Three kinds of evidence, three accusations, plus the mysterious ointments. The judges send Ann to jail to wait for trial.

Tomorrow in Salem: EXCOMMUNICATED: the once-beloved Rebecca Nurse

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May 26: ***Sensitive Content (infant mortality)*** the beggar Sarah Good loses her baby

Today in Salem: No one has ever heard the beggar Sarah Good cry. They’ve heard her snarl, curse, and complain, and even when she’s quiet her eyes look angry. But today her eyes are wet and her breath is strangled as she looks down at her baby, impossibly still, lifeless since last night.

“Hand the baby to me,” the jail keeper says, and holds his arms out. But Sarah just looks away and pulls the thin bundle of blankets close. For three months now Sarah has held the baby’s head against her neck so they could sleep, to her breast for suckling what little she could, and in the crook of her arm for comfort. She’s held her baby every minute that she’s been in jail, every minute of every day, and she’s not about to stop now.

Sarah’s four-year-old daughter Dorcas crouches behind her and stares with saucer eyes at the jail keeper.

“Right now,” he says, and motions with his hands. His voice is firm but not unkind. “Give it to me.”

“Mercy,” Sarah says, and looks up. “Her name is Mercy.”

The jail keeper leans down and reaches for the baby, but when Sarah twists away, the healer Ann Pudeator steps between them. She may be elderly and wretched from her own imprisonment, but she’s midwifed more than a few women, and she knows her way around a mother’s pain.

Ann glares at the jail keeper until he steps back, then sits on the floor in front of Sarah. She puts her hands on Sarah’s shoulders and leans in.

“Mercy is with God now,” Ann says quietly, and caresses Sarah’s arms. “Let me hold her for a moment. Just for a moment,” Ann says, and moves her hand from Sarah’s arm to the blanket. Sarah begins to sob and rock, but Ann just keeps her hand on the blanket and waits quietly. A long minute goes by before Sarah kisses the top of the baby’s head and looks up. It takes many tiny movements, but she finally hands the baby to Ann, who slowly stands up while Sarah keens, her arms bent inward as they’ve been for all of Mercy’s short life.

Tomorrow in Salem: Preparing for trials

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May 12: CLOSING RANKS: the afflicted girls snare the shrew Alice Parker and the healer Ann Pudeator

red and white flowers

Today in Salem: 12yo Ann Putnam and 11yo Abigail Williams are rubbing the palms of their hands where yesterday pins had stabbed them and drawn blood. It was day two of George Jacobs Sr.’s examination, but it didn’t last long. The afflicted girls were convulsing as always, but when Ann and Abigail suddenly screamed and found bloody pins stuck in their hands, the judges quickly ended it and sent Jacobs to jail.

They’d spent the rest of yesterday questioning George Jacobs Sr.’s granddaughter, Margaret. She’d been afflicted for a time, then was “cured.” Now the other girls have accused her of witchcraft – just as they had two other girls. Confess, the judges had said. Confess and save your life. Did they mean her spiritual life, as some would say later? It didn’t matter. Out of pure terror, Margaret confessed. She also agreed with everything else the judges said, accusing her grandfather Jacobs and several others.

That was yesterday. Now, this morning, Ann and Abigail’s hands still itch and sting from the pins. But two more sudden arrests and examinations take up the day.

The shrew Alice Parker is known to scold her husband publicly, and to faint without warning. Now the judges hear testimony from the Proctor’s servant Mary Warren and George Jacobs’ granddaughter Margaret Jacobs. Alice denies the accusations, and says she wishes the earth would open up and swallow her if one word of it is true. The judges send her to jail instead.

The elderly healer Ann Pudeator is a well-to-do widow who’s suspiciously good at her trade. Now the servant Mary Warren accuses Ann’s specter of killing her two husbands, throwing a man from a cherry tree just by looking at him, and trying to bewitch the magistrates’ horses to prevent their reaching court in Salem Village. Ann is also sent immediately to jail.

Meanwhile, the constable can’t find former deputy John Willard anywhere. He’s been carrying Willard’s arrest warrant with him for two days now.

WHY is this important?

Right now there are two broad groups of people: those who are protesting against the witchcraft hysteria (citizens and family members), and those who are pushing back (judges and accusers). The harder one group pushes, the harder the other pushes back.

Everyone knew that George Jacobs Sr. had disrupted a town meeting and shouted that the girls were lying. Now, with him in court, the girls have pushed back. They’re not just fainting and wailing. They’re also being injured by mysteriously appearing objects like pins. Are the girls intentionally upping their game? Maybe not consciously. The girls who were stuck with pins were only 11 and 12.

The afflicted girls have also now closed ranks. Three of them have tried to leave, and each one has had the same experience:

1. She’s afflicted like the other girls.
2. She leaves the circle when she’s cured. Sometimes she says the other girls are lying.
3. Her former friends accuse her of witchcraft.
4. She confesses to witchcraft, then returns to the circle and is afflicted again.

All three girls are occupying a precarious middle ground, confessing to witchcraft and yet being afflicted at the same time. They are the Proctor’s servant Mary Warren, George Jacobs Sr.’s servant Sarah Churchill, and his granddaughter Margaret Jacobs.

Note that two of these girls were the main accusers in today’s examinations. Were they panicking?

WHO was Alice Parker?

Alice was about 60, forthright and even aggressive in her speech. She had no children of her own, though her husband had children from an earlier marriage.

Alice may have suffered from catalepsy, an ailment that causes sudden unconsciousness and rigid posture. One month before the first girls began suffering from unknown torments, Alice was found by neighbors, lying in the snow, seemingly dead. A group of men were there, but they were nervous about picking her up. One of the women assured them that Alice had lost consciousness several times before, but it still took a few minutes before one of them was brave enough to pick her up and hoist her over his shoulder. But she didn’t regain consciousness, not even when the man lost his hold and dropped her. At last they got her home and to bed, but while the men were taking off her shoes she suddenly sat up and laughed. Case files: Alice Parker

WHO was Ann Pudeator?

Ann was in her early seventies, a nurse and midwife, as well as a widow with property and means. But her neighbors were suspicious of exactly how she’d attained them. Years before the Trials, she was hired by a prosperous man to look after his wife in her last days. The wife was a drunkard, described as delirious and out-of-control. She died suddenly under what was thought to be mysterious circumstances, and both her husband and Ann were there. Could they have “helped” her die? The case went to court, but nothing came of it.

If that wasn’t enough, Ann then married the widowed husband, who was twenty years younger than she was. He died soon after they were married, and left everything to her — and it was quite a lot. Did she have something to do with his death as well? Case files: Ann Pudeator

Tomorrow in Salem: Summary: Act II Begins: the first death, pins and needles, mounting pressure