Today in Salem: A naked judge stands before the fire, shivering and damp, wrapped in a rough woolen blanket and hoping for something warm to eat. He is the second most powerful man in the colony, the Chief Justice and next in command to the Governor. In this moment, though, he is in a borrowed bedroom with a borrowed blanket, cold and wet and without clothing, powerless over what has brought him here.
Bound for Boston, he’d left home in the early morning, riding into a rainstorm that quickly became a downpour and then a gusting deluge. The journey had been challenging from the start, but it’s become impossible to continue. So he’s sent his servant back to retrieve some dry clothes, and now has little to do but wait and think.
He is certain of one thing: The Devil is threatening the Church throughout all of New England, and is using witchcraft to do it. And he, the Chief Justice, has been fierce in the fight against it. He’s led 24 trials and authorized 24 executions. Nearly 100 other accused witches are in jail waiting for trials, with more accusations every day. Clearly there is much work to be done, and he will not stop until every witch in New England has been found and destroyed.
The Governor seems less committed, though. He’s spent much of the last few months in Maine, fighting the frontier wars. He hasn’t attended a single hanging. Reprieves are given and taken away impatiently, depending only on who he speaks with that day. He seems bored, anxious, and indecisive.
In four days the Court is scheduled to begin its next session, with several trials already scheduled. But rumors abound that the Governor will stop the Court from sitting. The Chief Justice has asked him several times whether the rumors are true, but the Governor has been evasive, changing the subject or avoiding him entirely.
Still shivering, the Chief Justice decides to confront the Governor forcefully, as soon as he gets to Boston. It’s a simple question: Yes or no? Will the witchcraft trials continue?
Today in Salem: The prominent minister Cotton Mather sends a manuscript to Chief Justice William Stoughton. The people were just short of an angry mob at the last hanging, and the tide has turned against the trials. They’re furious at the thought of innocent people dying because it was the Devil – not them – using their specters. In fact, the public is so angry that it might be too late to reform the court. It could destroy the judicial system altogether, or even lead to violence against the judges.
The ministers agree in part. All summer they’ve said that spectral evidence alone isn’t enough to find someone guilty and sentence them to death. Of course, those who’ve been hanged so far were guilty without question. Still, it’s possible that many innocent people have been swept up in the fervor and eventually will die, only because their specters have been seen doing evil. So the question remains: What if those specters are actually the Devil in disguise?
Mather knows that a guilty verdict requires three kinds of evidence: spectral, real-world evil, and recognition from confessed witches. But he isn’t sure that the citizenry knows that. Maybe it will calm things down if Mather writes about how careful the judges are being.
Earlier this summer he’d asked Chief Justice Stoughton about his idea. Did he agree with Mather’s representation? Would he write an endorsement? Stoughton does agree, in general. But he’s never wavered from one key point: that the Devil can disguise himself as an innocent person’s specter only if that person has given their permission. Unfortunately Mather thought the Chief Justice had changed his mind and didn’t follow up on it. Now the manuscript rests in Stoughton’s hands.
Today in Salem: The beggar Sarah Good is pleading with the pregnant Elizabeth Proctor for help. Sarah has always been an angry beggar, as likely to throw a stone as she is to say thank you. But today is different. She will be hanged in five days, leaving behind her four-year-old daughter Dorcas, who is also in jail. Will Elizabeth care for the little girl after Sarah is taken away? Make sure she eats? sleeps? says her prayers?
Sarah has chosen Elizabeth carefully. Being pregnant, Elizabeth is unlikely to be hanged soon. And, unlike most of the women there, she still has young children, and will know the needs of a four-year-old.
Still, Elizabeth hesitates. Dorcas hasn’t once left her mother’s side, hissing and scratching at anyone who draws near. A bite of bread, a wink, a scrap of string – nothing quiets or tempts her. What else can Elizabeth do, though? She gives a small nod. The girl will eat when she’s hungry and sleep when she’s tired. Prayers are unimaginable except on the little girl’s behalf, but Elizabeth can at least do that.
Meanwhile, a few doors down, the Governor is inhaling the aromas of roast fowl and boiled turnips, drumming his fingers on the table and bouncing his knee. He’s still giddy from yesterday’s military displays, impatient and eager to go north to fight the enemies on the frontier.
A feast extends from the head of the table, where he’s sitting, and ends at the other end, where the ponderous Chief Justice Stoughton sits, as still as the Governor is fidgety. Raucous men line each side, guffawing and drunk on rum. It’s a public thanksgiving, declared by the Governor, with gratitude to God for his recent safe return from London, recent victories over the war-mongering French and Indians, and so many other personal blessings in his life.
Today in Salem: Chief Justice Stoughton holds a candle under a block of red wax and lets it melt, dripping it onto the death warrant he’s just signed. He waits until the wax is warmly pliable, then presses his metal seal into it, hard.
He could have put his seal next to his signature, on the bottom of the document. Instead he’s chosen the middle of the wide blank margin, where no one can miss the red stain or his intent. Bridget Bishop is guilty of witchcraft, and it’s Stoughton’s duty to extinguish that evil.
The Tenth day of this instant month of June between the houres of Eight and twelve in the afternoon of the same day You [are commanded to] safely conduct the s’d Bridgett Bishop alias Olliver from their Maj’ties Gaol in Salem afores’d to the place of Execution and there cause her to be hanged by the neck untill she be de[ad] …
And this shall be [your] Sufficient Warrant Given under my hand & Seal at Boston.
Stoughton is already shuffling through other papers when the Sheriff appears. He hands him the warrant, but looks up only briefly. He’s a busy man.
The seal William Stoughton pressed onto Bridget Bishop’s death warrant
LEARN MORE: See Bridget Bishop’s original death warrant.
Today in Salem: It’s a miserably hot day, as humid as it is hot, and the women in Boston Jail are fanning themselves with their caps while the grieving Sarah Good seems not to notice. 300 feet away, the Governor and his council of advisors are at the Town House, building the Court that will hang the guilty witches.
More than 50 people are crowded into the rank jails of Salem, Boston, Ipswich, and Cambridge. Some have been there for months, shackled and chained, and as more people are arrested and jailed, it’s only getting more crowded, rank, and impossible. One person has already died from the conditions, and more are sick.
The only one way out is through a trial, which, given the judges’ assumption of guilt, will probably end badly. But even that exit is blocked, because trials can’t happen without a court. There hasn’t been a court in eight years, not since the King revoked the last Charter. Now, though, now the Charter is back, with a new governor who is wasting no time setting up a government.
After meeting with his Councilors, the royally appointed Governor Phips announces the formation of a new court: the Court of Oyer and Terminer (meaning “to hear and determine”). Its sole purpose is to clear the backlog in the jails, using strict English law rather than the more flexible colony laws. He puts the conservative, tough-minded William Stoughton in charge as Chief Justice, leading eight other judges.
WHY is this important?
Four big wheels were set in motion today, which together made a straight and slippery path from jail to the hangman’s noose.
1 – Witchcraft was now officially a capital offense, according to English law. There was no more room to question a death sentence or debate shades of gray.
2 – The court of Oyer and Terminer wasn’t restricted to a recurring schedule. Judges could hold court whenever and as often as they wanted to.
3 – Appointing William Stoughton as Chief Justice was almost like putting the fox in charge of the hen house. It wasn’t obvious at first that he would be so ruthless. But, as a conservative Puritan with no legal background, he was zealous in finding and eliminating witches, and often deviated from normal courtroom procedure. In addition to admitting questionable spectral evidence, he allowed accusers and judges to talk privately, let spectators interrupt trials, wouldn’t allow the accused to have lawyers defend them, and let judges interrogate witnesses and otherwise play the role of prosecutors.
4 – Governor Phips was now free to attend to what he really cared about: the Wars in Maine. Later he would write that when he’d returned from London he’d found the province “miserably harrassed with a most Horrible witchcraft or Possession of Devills.” But during the fateful summer of 1692, he didn’t attend a single trial or execution. Instead he spent the summer recruiting troops and gathering supplies to build a fort in Maine, and left Massachusetts entirely for about two months. It wasn’t until his own wife was accused that he turned his attention fully to Salem.
WHO were the Judges and Officials of Oyer and Terminer?
William Stoughton (Chief Justice) – age 61; the only bachelor on the court. He’d studied for the ministry at Harvard and Oxford, and had preached successfully both in England and in Massachusetts. He left the pulpit without being ordained to enter a life of politics, and, despite lacking any legal training, became the Chief Justice of Massachusetts. Served as a justice under an immensely unpopular Governor .
Nathaniel Saltonstall – age 53; a militia leader who resigned from the court in protest after the first hanging. He was replaced by Jonathan Corwin, age 52, a merchant and magistrate at the early examinations in Salem.
Wait-Still Winthrop – age 50; a militia leader and trained physician who attended Harvard for one year.
Peter Sergeant – age 45; a merchant and former constable.
John Richards – age 40; a military officer, businessman, and merchant who’d worked his way up from a position as a servant.
Samuel Sewall – age 40; educated for the ministry at Harvard, but entered business. His diaries are among the most important documents that show us life through Puritan eyes. He would be the only judge to apologize for his role in the Trials.
Bartholomew Gedney – age 52; a trained physician. Served as a justice under an immensely unpopular Governor. a magistrate, physician, town selectman. merchant and the colonel of the Essex County militia.
John Hathorne – age 51; a merchant and magistrate known to be ruthless and even cruel in his questioning. He was one of the magistrates at the early examinations in Salem.
Clerk of the Court: Stephen Sewall. Samuel Sewall’s brother. It was his family that was caring for Rev Parris’s daughter 9yo Betty, one of the first afflicted girls. Parris had sent her away to protect her from the chaos.
King’s Attorney General: Thomas Newton. Anglican. He’d probably participated in another witchcraft trial several years earlier.
Sheriff: George Corwin. Related to three of the judges. As Sheriff, he replaced the Marshall, who’d arrested several of the suspects.
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.
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.
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
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
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
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.
