Tag Archives: George Burroughs

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Aug 19: *** Sensitive Content: Death by Hanging ***

Today in Salem: The pregnant Elizabeth Proctor wills herself to keep looking, not to blink, to keep her eyes wide, and to watch every movement of her husband as he climbs into the sheriff’s cart and prepares for his final journey. She memorizes John’s face, the set of his shoulders, the way he holds out a calloused hand to help the only woman who will be hanged today. He is innocent, and it confounds her, why God would allow this.

The cart sags under the weight of the condemned: three farmers, a minister, and another minister’s niece, and although the farmers might prefer to walk, it would be difficult with the throng of people surrounding them. An even larger crowd is waiting at Gallows Hill, though, twice as large as those at previous hangings. For as much as the hanging itself is sensational, it’s the minister George Burroughs that the crowd has come to see. Is it true? Is a minister — a minister — in league with the Devil? Worse, is it not true? Are they about to hang an innocent man?

A wooden ladder is leaning against the branch of the hanging tree, where several ministers wait to pray for the condemned if they ask. The prisoners stand up in the cart, and the former deputy John Willard steps to the front. He’d quit his position last spring when he began to think he was arresting innocent people. But now he knows it. “Please pray with us,” he says to the ministers. “We are innocent. Please pray that ours will be the last innocent blood that is shed.”

At that, John Proctor steps forward. “We are innocent, and yet we ask that God will forgive us all our sins.” He looks at the crowd. “We also pray that he will forgive the sins of our accusers.” The crowd starts to shuffle and bow their heads as the Reverend Cotton Mather begins to pray.

It’s now, when people are looking away or closing their eyes, that the Sheriff decides the order of execution, for when the crowd looks up, the outcast Martha Carrier already has the noose around her neck. If any of them are guilty it’s she, with a trail of death and smallpox behind her. Rev Cotton Mather has barely said Amen when the crowd begins to boo and jeer.

It’s easy to see her husband, standing a full foot taller than the men around him. But Martha is looking up at the sky. Does she not hear him begging her to confess? Or are his entreaties drowned out by the noise of the cheering crowd? Just like that, before she can look down, the Sheriff knocks the ladder away and she hangs, swaying in the swirling dust.

The elderly George Jacobs Sr. stands on a lower rung, having climbed with difficulty, not having the use of his canes. Jacobs has always been ornery, even vulgar, and now is no different. He has no last words except a string of his own accusations, of the girls lying, the judges ignorant, the Sheriff stealing. At that, the Sheriff kicks the ladder away and Jacobs hangs, as quickly as an 80-year-old man would.

The hangings continue, one after the other. The ladder creaks under the weight of the bold John Proctor. With his pregnant wife Elizabeth in jail, his oldest son is running the 700-acre Proctor farm and caring for the younger children. Still, he’s found a way to be there, and mirrors John’s stance, with his shoulders back and an angry look in his eyes.

The crowd is quieter now as the former deputy John Willard climbs the ladder easily. He stares hard at the Sheriff, who used to direct him in his arrests. Then he locks eyes with his wife, who holds their three year-old daughter on her hip, swaying the way mothers do. Willard isn’t a large man like Proctor, but he stands tall and doesn’t flinch or resist when the Sheriff kicks the ladder.

Finally it’s the minister George Burroughs who climbs the ladder and turns toward the crowd. “What say ye?” asks Cotton Mather. The ladder wobbles as the sheriff ties Burroughs’ hands and legs. “Our Father, Who art in heaven,” Burroughs says. “Hallowed be Thy Name.” He calmly finishes the Lord’s Prayer, flawlessly, with nary a stutter.

An uncomfortable buzz begins at the front of the crowd and moves to the back, and several women begin to cry. Everyone knows that witches and wizards cannot recite Scripture, most especially and in particular the Lord’s Prayer. And yet here he is, the minister they’ve accused, doing exactly what he should not be able to do.

“Stop!” someone yells. “Stop!” The cry spreads through the crowd, growing louder and louder, until it seems like half of the people are raising their hands and shouting. Something has changed. The Sheriff hesitates, and looks at Rev Cotton Mather.

“It’s the Devil’s work!” cries one of the afflicted girls, and points at Burroughs. “The Devil is telling him what to say!”

Mather blinks and gives a nod; the tiniest, almost imperceptible nod. At that, the Sheriff turns away and kicks the ladder, hard, until the Reverend George Burroughs hangs.

The deputies bury the bodies quickly, this time in one large grave, so quickly that George Burroughs’ hand protrudes from the dirt, resting awkwardly on someone else’s foot. Tonight several men will float down the dark river, just as some have before them. They will take the bodies of John Proctor and George Jacobs, and bury them at home with dignity. The others will be left behind.

Tomorrow in Salem: A guilty granddaughter mourns

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Aug 18: A sobbing confession

Today in Salem: Sometimes a minister’s job is to preach and pray, and sometimes it’s simply to listen. But right now there’s no choice to be made. The girl in front of Rev George Burroughs is sobbing so hard that all he can do is listen.

Her words are punctuated by her sobs, and hard to make out. Lying. Dust. (Lie in the dust?) False. He. Used. Burroughs puts his hands on his knees, takes a deep breath, and waits. Grandfather Jacobs. Willard. You.

Ah. He rubs his knees and closes his eyes. He and the others are innocent, so of course they’ve been falsely accused. She’d even spoken against her own grandfather, George Jacobs Sr. But why is she here? And why now, the night before he and the others are to be hanged?

Please. For. Give. At last she looks up. Pray?

Burroughs hesitates. The stone in his heart is large. But there’s nothing to be gained by being harsh. Prayer has always been the way he begs forgiveness, the way he navigates through heartache, and loss. And so he prays, for both of them. For strength. For understanding. For light in the darkness.

Tomorrow in Salem: ***Sensitive Content: Death by Hanging***

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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 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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June 15: A most humiliating search

Today in Salem: While his panicked wife has abandoned his children and sold everything he owns, the minister George Burroughs stands naked before seven men, holding his head high and stretching his arms out as if he is a cross. He wills himself to breathe evenly as the men prod his armpits, pull at his ears, and examine his private parts. After what seems like forever, the men announce that they’ve found nothing, and Burroughs says a silent prayer of thanks.

The abusive George Jacobs Sr. isn’t as fortunate. The men have found three suspicious marks: a rough spot inside his right cheek, a wart on his right hip, and a growth on his right shoulder.

Do the marks have any feeling, as a natural part of his body? Or are they numb, not part of him, placed by an evil source? Jacobs gags and flinches when one of the men shoves a dirty thumb into his mouth, squeezing Jacobs’ cheek between thumb and fingers. The men agree: it’s obvious Jacobs felt pain. The rough spot is a wound of his own making.

The other two marks are different, though. “Look away,” orders the man who’d examined Jacobs’ mouth. One of the other men pushes a pin into the wart on Jacobs’ hip, but … nothing. Jacobs doesn’t even wince. The men look at each other silently, then stand up to peer at Jacobs’ shoulder. Is the small growth they’ve found a blister? a boil? a cyst? Or is it a witch’s mark? One of the men lances the growth, but no fluid oozes out. More important, Jacobs doesn’t react, even though it’s a lance. He feels nothing.

LEARN MORE: Why didn’t witch marks hurt?

It was common knowledge that the Devil placed marks on witches so their familiars could suckle. But those marks weren’t part of the witch’s body. They were foreign; attached to the skin, not growing out of it. Therefore, they wouldn’t hurt or bleed if they were pierced.

Piercing, known as “pricking,” was used throughout Europe and the colonies as one of several tests to identify a witch. There’s no record of deception in Salem, but not all examiners in Europe were honest. For example, some pricking tools had hollow wooden handles and retractable points. Push it “into” a person’s skin – even up to the hilt of the tool – and it would look like the suspected witch had been stabbed without bleeding or pain. Other tools included needles that were sharp on one end and dull on the other. A deceitful examiner could use the sharp end to cause pain and draw blood, or the dull end, to cause … nothing.

Three bodkins used for “witch pricking.” The one in the center had a retractable needle.

Tomorrow in Salem: The coroner rules and the Governor dithers

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June 14: ABANDONED: the minister George Burroughs’ children

Today in Salem: News of the witch’s hanging has reached Maine, and the minister George Burroughs’ wife is panicking. Her husband has been in prison for five weeks. Is he condemned? Is she herself in danger? What about the children?

The entire town is already on edge. French soldiers and Wabanaki Indians have been attacking what seems like all of Maine, traveling the rivers and using the storms against the settlers. Today, though, the unexpected has happened: the brutal attackers have retreated, and the town is calm. It’s the eye of the storm, she thinks, and who knows what will happen tomorrow?

With no husband there to protect her, and with very little hope of his return, she needs to escape, fast. But she has no money. She thinks about her kitchen, the bedroom, the stables. What can she sell?

A new minister has replaced her husband, and now she pounds on his door.

“Will you buy George’s library?” she asks. Bewildered, he agrees, and hands her money. But she has no books with her. “Get them when you please,” she says over her shoulder, racing to a neighbor’s house. From door to door she knocks, selling everything: plates, linens, furniture, even the cattle.

Tonight, with a fistful of money and a baby on her hip, she considers her options. Her seven stepchildren will only slow her down, and her own baby needs protection more than they do. She flees with her infant and leaves the other children to shift for themselves.

Tomorrow in Salem: A most humiliating search

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May 9: JAILED: the Devil’s partner: the minister George Burroughs

Today in Salem: The minister George Burroughs is pacing in his room, hugging a Bible to his chest. In deference to his status as a man of God, four judges are questioning him in his tavern room before taking him to court.

man alone

Two of the judges are newly arrived from Boston, and they are a study in contrasts. While Samuel Sewall’s soft face and open expression look kindly at Burroughs, William Stoughton, with his sharp nose and permanent frown, is zeroing in on the smallest incriminating detail. Now, with the Salem judges Hathorne and Corwin, they tick down the list of rumors that have exploded in every tavern, home, and even the Meeting House.

Some of them are true, Burroughs admits. He hasn’t taken communion, though he’s had several chances. His oldest five children are baptized – but not the youngest three. And he would never be cruel to any of his wives. Never. And is his house full of ghosts, as rumored? the judges ask. Just toads, Burroughs says. No ghosts.

The judges are expressionless as they take him to the mayhem of court, where the afflicted girls are tormented as they offer a flood of details. He wasn’t just cruel to his wives – he murdered them, they say. He has poppets. He works with the Devil, not for him, and gives the Devil’s communion to other witches.

Three military men say they’d heard from others that Burroughs has lifted a heavy gun with one arm. They’d also heard the story about the barrel of molasses. The judges admit the testimonies, including the hearsay, into evidence. With three women who’ve also been indicted today, the judges send Burroughs back to confinement for future trial.

WHY is this important? Burroughs was a Puritan minister, whose role was to promote God’s glory while growing and protecting his flock. For weeks before today, though, the afflicted girls had reported several dramatic visions of a giant gathering of witches in the pasture next to the parsonage. There, 40 or more witches were partaking in a feast that mocked the Lord’s Supper, where they consumed red bread and red liquid, perhaps blood.

Organizing it was the specter of George Burroughs, who delivered a sermon reminding the witches of their one obligation: to help replace God’s church with the Devil’s. And, just to cement Burroughs’ authority, the Devil himself had proclaimed that Burroughs would be the King of Hell.

It was the greatest treason imaginable: that a minister of God’s church would partner with the Devil to destroy it.

It was the real-life Burroughs in particular, though, who was at the crystallized heart of it. 30% of the people accused of witchcraft were either ministers, related to ministers, or somehow connected to ministers. Burroughs, though, was the former minister of Salem, who had left a trail of bad feelings in his wake. Since Salem was the source of the witchcraft explosion, who would be more suspicious than a former minister with a grudge?

Burroughs’ appearance in court today meant the judges had snared the linchpin; the person at the very center of the Devil’s plans. It’s no wonder that more people attended his hearing than any other: His capture was electrifying, sensational, and scandalous all at the same time.

Samuel Sewall's signature

WHO was Samuel Sewall?

Age 40. He was a printer and local politician when he was appointed to the Court of Oyer and Terminer, which was created by the governor to try the witchcraft cases. Sewall is perhaps best remembered as a diarist who kept a journal throughout his adult life. His diary during the Witchcraft Trials is one of the most important documents we have, as it isn’t a court record as much as personal observations.

Samuel Sewall's portrait
Samuel Sewall

Five years after the Trials, Sewall stood before the congregation of the South Church in Boston while the Rev. Samuel Willard read his confession.

Samuel Sewall, sensible of the reiterated strokes of God upon himself and family; and being sensible, that as to the Guilt contracted upon the opening of the late Commission of Oyer and Terminer at Salem (to which the order of this Day relates) he is, upon many accounts, more concerned than any that he knows of, Desires to take the Blame and shame of it, Asking pardon of men, And especially desiring prayers that God, who has an Unlimited Authority, would pardon that sin and all other his sins; personal and Relative.

Sewall was an early abolitionist, and wrote The Selling of Joseph, the first anti-slavery tract published in New England.

Samuel Sewall died in 1730, at age 77. His grave can be found in the Sewall family tomb at Boston’s Granary Burying Ground. Case files: Samuel Sewall

WHO was William Stoughton?

A 61-year-old magistrate in Boston who began his powerful role in the Trials by helping with Salem’s local examinations. When the Governor arrived from England to find an explosion of witchcraft hysteria, he created a new court that was responsible for trials and executions, and appointed Stoughton as Chief Justice.

William Stoughton's portrait
William Stoughton

Stoughton’s approach was controversial because he accepted “spectral evidence” — testimony that a person’s specter had committed evil-doing, not the person themselves. His acceptance of spectral evidence was at least partly responsible for every single execution.

After the 19th hanging, the governor reorganized the courts and told Stoughton to disregard spectral evidence. As a result, many cases were dismissed due to a lack of evidence, and the governor vacated the few that weren’t. He also stopped the executions of several pregnant defendants who’d been convicted before the courts were reorganized. Stoughton, feeling angry and undermined, briefly quit the Court in protest.

William Stoughton's seal
William Stoughton’s seal

Before and after the Trials, Stoughton was the acting governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony, and served as Chief Justice of the Massachusetts Supreme Court for the rest of his life. Unlike some of the other magistrates, Stoughton never admitted that he’d made a mistake in accepting spectral evidence, nor did he apologize for his role in the Trials.

The town of Stoughton, Massachusetts is named after him. Case files: William Stoughton

Tomorrow in Salem:  ***Sensitive Content*** DEAD: the sickly Sarah Osborne; ARRESTED: the abusive George Jacobs Sr. DISTRAUGHT: the servant Sarah Churchill

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May 8: GOSSIP fans the flames

woman peeking through hole

Today in Salem: Two women huddle over a table in the tavern. They’ve heard the rumors about George Burroughs. He fancies himself a minister, but his own children aren’t baptized. And he never takes communion. Him! a minister! And so cruel to his wives, two of them dead now, and who knows why or how.

One woman leans in. Her husband is in the militia, and his friend told him that Burroughs can lift and aim a heavy 7-foot gun with just a finger in the end of the gun. Oh, and he also lifted a large barrel of molasses from an unsteady canoe – alone – then carried it up a slippery river bank.

Obviously George Burroughs is no ordinary minister. If the rumors are correct – and of course they are – he’s the Devil’s minister. If the witches have a ringleader, it’s Burroughs.

The women sit up and signal the tavern owner’s wife. Burroughs will be in court tomorrow and they’re not going to miss it, not for anything. Time to pay up and get home so they can make an early night of it, and be ready in the morning.

LEARN MORE: What was the role of gossip in the Salem Witchcraft Trials?

There’s no doubt that the “grapevine” was a major source – sometimes the only source – of communication between the people of Salem. While newspapers and pamphlets were available, they were typically found only in the libraries of the elite. For more ordinary people, church sermons, town meetings, and talking were the only sources of information.

Then as now, gossip also served as a “social lubricant,” which could quickly become salacious. There was one life-threatening difference, though: Today, gossip and rumors rarely make it as far as a court case, and when they do, they’re inadmissible. During the Salem Witchcraft Trials, though, rumors were accepted as evidence. Even worse, the rumors were often about someone’s specter, which was also evidence.

Imagine standing in front of a judge. He assumes you’re guilty unless proven innocent (the opposite of today’s assumptions). Now imagine a witness saying they’d heard a rumor that your specter broke the law. There’s no way to defend yourself against that, never mind prove yourself innocent. It’s no wonder that people who were arrested immediately assumed they would die. Once you were in the system, it was almost impossible to get out.

Tomorrow in Salem: JAILED: the Devil’s partner George Burroughs

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May 5: UNFLINCHING: the minister George Burroughs

Today in Salem: Wet, exhausted, and muddy, the minister George Burroughs arrived in Salem last night and was immediately brought to a private room in a local tavern. He’s a prisoner, yes, but he’s also a man of God, so he’ll stay here, away from the filthy jails and apart from the other prisoners.

After two days of riding through drenching rain, wind, and lightning strikes, Burroughs slept without moving all last night and most of today. Now he’s ravenous when the tavern owner’s wife brings him boiled cod, bread, and butter; the same supper that she and her husband are eating.

Burroughs is swiping the last smear of butter from his plate when a visitor knocks. The man takes his hat off and looks at the floor, shifting from foot to foot, then finally looks up at Burroughs.

”Is it true then?” His voice shakes. He’s just had a vociferous debate with a militia leader from Maine, who knows how Burroughs has protected and fought for his flock in the face of relentless Indian attacks. The military man is rock solid sure that Burroughs is innocent, and has challenged this man to see for himself.

The man just keeps turning his hat in his hands, nervous but not going anywhere. Rev Burroughs sets his mouth and stares back, unflinching. He is a minister, not an oddity, and will not speak to such disrespect. Later the unsettled man will remember this one-sided conversation, and the strange visions it conjures up that night in the darkness.

Tomorrow in Salem: HIDING: the wealthy Philip English

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May 3: A storm rages around George Burroughs

lightning

Today in Salem: The constable is choking on the acrid smell of burning wood, squinting his eyes in the stinging smoke, and pulling hard on the reins to keep his horse under control. The other horses are rearing in all directions, and the constable’s men are holding on tight. A shrieking bolt of lightning has struck a nearby tree with impossible precision, and now an entire stand of trees is on fire. In the chaos, the prisoner George Burroughs struggles with his own horse, but stays close.

The lawmen have been galloping through thunder & driving rain since dawn, bringing the accused Reverend Burroughs to Salem. They’d burst into his home last night and arrested him in the middle of supper, with his eight children watching. They’d left this morning with only two days to make a three-day ride, and there’s no time to spare. Until now, even the powerful storm hasn’t slowed them down.

fog

Now the constable can hardly see past the fog, heavy rain, and falling branches, and he’s shocked when he realizes that George Burroughs is still with them. Burroughs has his own horse, and there was every opportunity to break free and escape. Why hasn’t he fled? At first the constable is impressed with his prisoner’s integrity. But he quickly remembers that this is no ordinary prisoner. Burroughs has been accused of witchcraft. But that’s not the end of it. He’s accused of partnering with the Devil to lead the witches in an organized attack on the church.

There’s only one explanation to the constable: The Devil – the Prince of the Air – must have sent the storm to wrench Burroughs free. But the Devil has failed. He cannot stop the men of God.

Tomorrow in Salem: UNFLINCHING: the minister George Burroughs