The Salem Witch Trials

In January 1692, a mysterious affliction tormented the parsonage of Samuel Parris, the reverend of Salem Village parish. The minister’s daughter, nine-year-old Elizabeth (Betty), and niece, twelve-year-old Abigail Williams, exhibited uncontrollable and erratic behavioral episodes—uttering strange noises, throwing hysterics, contorting their bodies—followed by hours of stupefaction and paralysis. According to Reverend John Hale, a minister from the neighboring town of Beverly, these fits were “beyond the power of [epilepsy] or natural disease.” Reverend Parris summoned the local physician, Doctor William Griggs, who concluded that the girls were bewitched, suffering under an “evil hand.” As the diagnosis circulated, other young girls around Salem began experiencing similar symptoms, including twelve-year-old Anne Putnam and seventeen-year-old Elizabeth Hubbard, who reported “terrible attacks from invisible specters and apparitions.”

Frightened colonists undertook various approaches to countervail the rampant witchcraft. Ministers prayed for spiritual healing while medical doctors implemented what little skills they possessed to eradicate the supernatural. Others embraced more sorcerous methods. On February 29, Mary Sibley, a member of Parris’s congregation, secretly instructed the reverend’s slave, John-Indian, to bake a “witch cake”—a cracker-like substance made of rye flour and the afflicted girls’ urine—and feed it to a dog. As the canine chewed, the harassing witch would experience an intense toothache, thus exposing their identity. When Reverend Parris discovered that this magical procedure had been performed, he admonished Sibley and her diabolical experiment during his Sunday sermon. “By this means,” Parris proclaimed, “it seems the Devil has been raised amongst us and his rage is vehement and terrible, and when he shall be silenced, the Lord only knows.”

After several days of stressful interrogation, the bewitched girls implicated three women responsible for their suffering: Sarah Good, a pregnant beggar; Sarah Osborne, a petulant middle-aged woman embroiled in scandal, from inheritance disputes to forbidden romance with an indentured servant; and Tituba, an Indigenous slave from Barbados (also John-Indian’s wife) who frequently cared for the Parris children. On March 1, 1692, the accused were formally indicted and brought before magistrates Jonathan Corwin and John Hathorne. Osborne and Good denied any knowledge of witchcraft, all while their complainants made theatrical displays inside the public meetinghouse. When Tituba stood before the magistrates, she confessed, “the Devil came to me and bid me to serve him.” She described a malevolent cast of devilish characters employed to torture the girls of Salem Village. She painted elaborate images of black dogs, red cats, yellow birds, and a “tall man with white hair” who coerced her to sign his book under threat of death. While describing this wicked interaction, Tituba cried out before an awestruck crowd, “I am blind now. I cannot see!” The Devil had incapacitated her for revealing his secrets.

Although Tituba would later recant her compelling confession, local officials were convinced that a satanic conspiracy was afoot. They reinterrogated the previous two accused. While Sarah Osbourn maintained her innocence, Sarah Good changed her story. She adopted Tituba’s vivid imagery and dramatization, implicating Osbourn in the process—Sarah Osbourn would later die in prison on May 10, 1692, the first casualty of the Salem Witch Trials.

Armed with newfound credibility, the “afflicted girls” became more emboldened with their allegations, sowing the volatile seeds of paranoia and reprisal. Twelve-year-old Ann Putnam, Jr. became a primary accuser. She claimed to see the specters of Martha Corey and Rebecca Nurse—two covenanted members of the church and outspoken witchcraft skeptics—and Dorcas Good, the four-year old daughter of Sarah Good. According to Ann’s testimony, “I saw the apparition of Dorothy Good, who did immediately almost choke me and tortured me most grievously; and so she hath several times since tortured me by biting and pinching and almost choking me tempting me also to write in her book.” All those suspected of black magic were arrested and imprisoned, including young Dorcas, who spent eight months shackled behind bars. The terrifying ordeal irreversibly damaged the child’s cognitive development. “For the rest of her days,” one contemporary observer wrote, “[her father] had to pay a keeper to take care of her.”

Judges, Juries, and Executioners

“People were Accused, Examined, Imprisoned, and came to their Trials, where about Twenty of them

Suffered as Witches; and many others in danger of the same Tragical End: and still the number of the

Accused increased unto many Scores; amongst whom were many Persons of unquestionable Credit,

never under any grounds of suspicion of that or any other Scandalous Evil.”

— Reverend John Hale

On May 27, 1692, newly-appointed Governor William Phips established a Special Court of Oyer and Terminer for Suffolk, Essex, and Middlesex counties to adjudicate the mounting number of witchcraft accusations. Magistrate William Stoughton, the Lieutenant Governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony, presided over this nine judge panel and expressed unwavering support for “spectral evidence”—testimony claiming that the disembodied spirits of suspected witches tormented or physically harmed their victims with help from Satan. The affidavits of the afflicted—witnessing apparitions only to themselves or experiencing painful sensations—added to the sensationalism, although the defendants could not disprove what was alleged. Stoughton’s lack of leniency exacerbated the severity of the trials and subsequent sentencing recommendations.

While many citizens were eager to accept spectral evidence as truth, others remained unconvinced. Reverend Cotton Mather, a prominent Boston minister who supported spectral evidence depositions, cautioned against its application in criminal proceedings, as the presumption of guilt would prejudice grounds for conviction. However, he simultaneously encouraged the Court to conduct a “speedy and vigorous prosecution” against those indicted for witchcraft.

The Court of Oyer and Terminer convened in Salem Town on June 2, 1692. The first case presented to the judicial panel was that of Bridget Bishop—a quarrelsome woman, twice widowed, known for her promiscuity and eccentric social habits. Circumstantial evidence also suggests her accusation was ulteriorly motivated by her disgruntled stepchildren. When Bishop’s second husband, Thomas Oliver, died of illness in 1679, she was named the main benefactor of his estate, which left Oliver’s three biological children with meager inheritance sums. Oliver’s descendants brought Bishop to trial, accusing her of bewitching their father to death, but she was acquitted due to lack of evidence. Given her reputation and legal history, Bishop may have been an easy target for the prosecution to convict. Multiple witnesses claimed Bishop’s specter was responsible for their torment, ranging from nightmares to the premature deaths of livestock and children. When asked if she committed witchcraft, Bishop responded, “I am as innocent as the child unborn.” Her defense proved unconvincing. Bridget Bishop was found guilty of witchcraft, a capital crime, and executed by hanging on June 10, 1692. Major Nathaniel Saltonstall, a panel judge on the Court of Oyer and Terminer, resigned from his position shortly after Bishop’s death, presumably dissatisfied with the decisive role spectral evidence played in her conviction.

The remaining magistrates were successful in obtaining dozens of confessions following Bishop’s execution. Many innocent people plead guilty and named other “co-conspirators” in order to avoid the hangman’s noose. Those who stubbornly maintained their innocence took their chances at trial.

Salem’s witchcraft hysteria spread like disease, infecting communities throughout the Massachusetts Bay Colony. In nearby Andover, alleged witches were identified via “touch test.” Suspects were blindfolded and led to the township’s meetinghouse, where two possessed victims writhed in agony. If a touch from the accused alleviated the victims’ convulsions, it proved their identity as a witch—the idea being that the vexatious apparition returned to its rightful corporality.

While in prison, suspected witches were repeatedly subjected to humiliating bodily examinations—their accusers looking for signs of the Devil. Prisoners were stripped naked and inspected for any suspicious growths or birthmarks, usually located around the genitals. Questionable blemishes were pricked with a needle—the absence of blood a damning sign of satanic sorcery.

On July 19, five more convicted witches were brought to the gallows: Susannah Martin, Elizabeth Howe, Sarah Wiles, Sarah Good, and Rebecca Nurse. A number of villagers petitioned the court to stay Nurse’s execution—originally found not guilty, she was retried at the behest of Judge Stoughton and ultimately convicted —but their pleas went unheard. Sarah Good, one of the first three accused, was dealt a death sentence despite her eventual admission of guilt; however, her execution was postponed due to her pregnancy. While incarcerated, Good delivered an infant daughter who died shortly after childbirth.

Some individuals took advantage of the witchcraft hysteria for their own personal gain. Many historians believe that the Putnam family, headed by patriarch Thomas Putnam, intentionally incriminated their economic competitors and social adversaries. Take, for instance, George Burroughs, the former reverend of Salem Village. Burroughs had borrowed money from the Putnams while acting minister (due to inconsistent salary payments from the parishioners) and although he eventually repaid his loan, it was not as expedient as the Putnams preferred, leading to a bitter rivalry. Burroughs left Salem Village during the spring of 1683, but resentment lingered in the house of Putnam. On April 30, 1692, Thomas Putnam lodged a criminal complaint against the reverend, accusing him of witchcraft and occultism. Burroughs, who had been living in Wells, Maine (the northern province of Massachusetts) for several years, was arrested and extradited to Salem, where his former congregants condemned him to death. On August 19, Burroughs—along with Martha Carrier, John Willard, George Jacobs Sr., and John Proctor—were brought to the gallows. Before his execution, Burroughs recited the Lord’s Prayer—an impossible feat for a witch to perform—prompting onlookers to demand his immediate pardon. He was hanged anyway.

The abnormally high conviction rate prompted local clergymen to anonymously publish “The Return of Several Ministers”—an essay expressing their dissatisfaction with the court’s reliance on spectral evidence. Nevertheless, the trials continued, despite this travesty of justice. The Puritans viewed the large number of convictions as mass allegiance to Satan, which only heightened paranoia and engendered more accusations.

Perhaps the most horrifying fate of Salem’s accused was that of 81-year-old Giles Corey—the husband of Martha Corey—who was charged with witchcraft on April 18, 1692. Corey refused to enter a plea, knowing that, if convicted, the government would seize his estate, thereby depriving his heirs of any inheritance. In an attempt to coerce a confession, Corey was subjected to peine forte et dure—an archaic form of punishment where a prisoner is pressed beneath an increasing load of stones. For two agonizing days, Corey held his tongue, standing mute as the oppressive weights slowly crushed him to death. Giles Corey finally succumbed to this torturous trauma on September 19, 1692. His wife, Martha, was executed three days later, along with Mary Eastey, Ann Pudeator, Samuel Wardwell, Mary Parker, Alice Parker, Wilmot Redd, and Margaret Scott.

During the autumn of 1692, Reverend Increase Mather, the President of Harvard College and father of Cotton Mather, published “Cases of Conscience Concerning Evil Spirits Personating Men, Witchcraft, Infallible Proofs of Guilt in Such as Are Accused with This Crime”—a lengthy theological treatise that details his disapproval for spectral evidence. Mather contended, “It were better that ten suspected witches should escape, than that one innocent person should be condemned.” The reverend’s moral and public authority proved influential. On October 29, Governor Phips, whose own wife was accused of witchcraft, prohibited any further arrests and dissolved the Court of Oyer and Terminer.

In January 1693, the Salem Witch Trials resumed under the reorganized Superior Court of Judicature. William Stoughton remained Chief Justice. In the absence of spectral evidence, the majority of the accused were acquitted. Those convicted—Elizabeth Johnson Jr., Sarah Wardwell, and Mary Post—were granted pardons by Governor Phips following payment of their jailor’s fee.

More than two hundred people across Massachusetts were indicted during the Salem Witch Trials. Tragically, twenty-five perished from the hysteria. Even animals fell victim to the witchcraft craze. In Andover and Salem Village, colonists killed two dogs believed to be demonic familiars. As for Tituba, whose melodramatic testimony spurred malicious conspiracy, she remained in a Boston prison throughout the Witch Trials because Parris refused to pay for her release (approximately £7). In April 1693, Tituba was sold to an unknown person and was never heard from again.

After the Witch Trials, Reverend Parris’s relationship with his Salem congregation devolved into a complicated mess of quarrels and lawsuits. Dissenting parishioners refused to attend his services out of protest, to which Parris issued civil penalties for those complicit. On February 16, 1693, Parris’s opponents presented a list of reasons for his withdrawal, including heresy, fear of further witchcraft accusations, lack of charity, unwarranted methods of interrogation and judicial procedure, and offensive sermons. Parris responded with his own paper entitled “Meditations for Peace,” in which he acknowledged his errors, stating that “in that sore hour of distress and darkness, I may have [spoken] unadvisedly.” Reverend Parris clung onto his clerical duties until October 1696, when he was finally forced out of Salem.

The Massachusetts Bay Colony sought penance in the years following the Salem Witch Trials. Numerous judges, jurors, clergymen, and accusers issued public apologies, claiming they were “sadly deluded and mistaken.” On January 14, 1697, the Massachusetts General Court ordered a “Day of Prayer with Fasting throughout the Province…So that all God’s people may put away that which hath stirred God’s Holy jealousy against His land; that He would…help us wherein we have done amiss to do so no more; and especially that whatever mistakes on either hand have fallen into…referring to the late tragedy, raised among us by Satan and his instruments, through the awful judgement of God, He would humble us therefore and pardon all the errors and people that desire to love His name.” In 1711, the colonial legislature passed a bill restoring the good names of many accused witches, as well as granting £600 in combined restitution. As recent as July 2022, the Massachusetts government has issued subsequent legislation exonerating the wrongfully convicted—the real victims of the Salem Witch Trials.

Primed for Hysteria

The Salem Witch Trials represent an intriguing, yet often misunderstood chapter of American history. Many intricate details, key actors, and significant events encompassing the witchcraft hysteria have been gradually obscured by romanticism and folkloric mystique. The exact motives behind this gross miscarriage of justice remain uncertain, but contemporary scholars posit several compelling theories that scrutinize Salem’s socioeconomic and political predispositions.

The Massachusetts Bay Colony maintained a precarious existence during the latter seventeenth century. Political uncertainty stemming from the English Restoration (1660 – 1689) precipitated the revocation of its colonial charter. Militaristic turmoil associated with the subsequent Glorious Revolution, specifically King William’s War (1689 – 1697), only intensified the atmosphere of panic amongst the colonial population.

King William’s War describes the North American theater of a larger conflict known as the Nine Years’ War or War of the Grand Alliance—a power struggle between Bourbon France, Williamite England, and their respective allies. Although much of the fighting took place on the frontiers of upstate New York, Nova Scotia, and Quebec, refugees flooded the Massachusetts Bay Colony, straining already scarce resources. This, along with a surging smallpox epidemic, accentuated the harsh realities of colonial life and aggravated existing rivalries between poor farmers and wealthy merchants. This contentious socioeconomic dynamic perfectly describes the contemporary relationship between Salem Village (now Danvers) and Salem Town.

Salem Village was an agrarian settlement founded by Puritans—a denomination of English Protestants who spurned the Anglican Church as “a product of political struggles and man-made doctrines beyond reform.” Salem Town, just east of the Village, was a prosperous maritime community engaged in international commerce. The town’s seafaring success fostered the development of an elite mercantile class, which exacerbated the sociopolitical polarity between neighboring agricultural and commercial lifestyles.

Tensions between Salem Village’s traditional Puritan livelihoods—based on piety and communal welfare—and Salem Town’s progressive capitalist proclivities devolved into deep-seated, litigious rivalries. Some Puritans complained of “declension”—a waning of godly ideals—as Salem Town grew more secular. As a result, western villagers grew more intolerant of their nonconformist eastern counterparts.

The municipal schism widened in 1672, when Salem Village formed its own church; however, the new parish faced its fair share of interpersonal challenges. The first two ministers, James Bayley (1673 – 1679) and George Burroughs (1680 – 1683), departed due to insufficient salaries. A third cleric, Deodat Lawson (1684 – 1688), left after he was denied ordainment. On June 18, 1689, Salem villagers named Samuel Parris—a former sugar merchant and plantation owner from Bridgetown, Barbados—the next reverend of the parish. Almost immediately after Parris’s arrival, several congregants voiced concerns about the reverend’s controversial benefits, specifically ownership of the parsonage, and refused to supplement his income. By the winter of 1691, Parris was running out of money and firewood.

Reverend Parris offered his parish little sympathies while deliberately deepening village division. He sought to exercise “iniquitous behavior” from his congregation, publicly punishing churchgoers of the smallest infractions. Instead of resolving social fears, Parris stoked catastrophic revelations, declaring that “if ever there were witches, Men and Women in covenant with the Devil, here are multitudes in New England.” This “fire and brimstone” approach was adopted by many Puritan clergymen to warn their parishes of God’s displeasure. The declination of religious faith potentiated an attack by the Devil. Such inflammatory preaching galvanized Salem’s witchcraft craze, framing the apparitional infestation as divine providence—a sign from God underscoring how the colony has strayed from a rightful and devout Puritan lifestyle.

From a pathophysiological standpoint, there are two medical diagnoses that could explain this mass hysteria event. First is convulsive ergotism, a condition caused by the fungus ergot, which grows on cereal grains (like rye) in cool and damp environments. It produces hallucinatory effects, causing its victims to suffer from vertigo, paresthesias, headaches, and seizure-like muscle contractions. The second possible affliction is encephalitis lethargica—a viral infection that causes inflammation of the brain. Symptoms include headaches, fever, lethargy, double vision, neck rigidity, behavioral changes, tremors, and nystagmus. In the absence of sophisticated medical techniques, this diagnosis could have easily been overlooked; however, most pathologists and historians agree that neither condition singularly explains the extent of the crisis.

Witch Trial Attractions

Salem has become synonymous with the macabre and mysterious due to its witch trial notoriety. While the hysteria consumed numerous townships across Massachusetts, Salem witnessed the overwhelming majority of accusations, in addition to all legal proceedings and executions. Although the landscape of Salem has changed considerably over the past three centuries, its controversial legacy endures.

Located at 310 Essex Street, the Witch House (c. 1675) is the only surviving structure in Salem with direct ties to the witchcraft trials. This gabled domicile belonged to Judge Jonathan Corwin who, alongside Judge Nathaniel Hathorne, received initial accusations and conducted preliminary examinations related to Salem’s diabolical witchcraft conspiracy. Historians speculate that some relevant testimonies may have been deposed inside this home; however, no direct evidence exists to support this claim. While originally omitted from the Court of Oyer and Terminer, Corwin was instated following the resignation of Nathaniel Saltonstall. According to the historical record, Judge Corwin was the only magistrate not to issue an apology for his role in the hysteria—a defiant conviction that contributes to the home’s mystique. Since 1948, the Witch House has served the Salem community as a historic museum, exhibiting seventeenth-century architecture, Puritan paraphernalia, and material culture.

Upon his death in 1718, Judge Corwin was buried in Broad Street Cemetery, the second-oldest burial ground in Salem. Established in 1655, Broad Street Cemetery contains nearly 700 headstones (and perhaps more unmarked burial sites). Tourists are free to walk through this historic necropolis along the marked paths.

For many years, Gallows Hill was considered the execution site for those condemned during Salem’s witchcraft hysteria. However, in 1921, local historian Sidney Perley concluded that the hangings actually occurred on a small hill called Proctor’s Ledge. Perley’s postulation prompted city administrators to purchase this “Witch Memorial Land” in 1936, although this decision was merely symbolic in the absence of sound evidence. In 2015, researchers from the University of Virginia and Salem’s Gallows Hill Project finally confirmed Perley’s hypothesis after an exhaustive investigation through archival data and primary source materials. On July 19, 2017—the 325th execution anniversary of convicted witches Sarah Good, Elizabeth Howe, Susannah Martin, Rebecca Nurse, and Sarah Wildes—the Proctor’s Ledge Memorial was ceremoniously installed, commemorating the lives lost during the Salem Witch Trials.

Several other witchcraft attractions stand in the neighboring town of Danvers, including the Rebecca Nurse Homestead. In March 1692, Rebecca Nurse—an elderly woman and respected member of the Puritanical church—was accused of witchcraft by members and associates of the Putnam family, who disputed her family’s property rights. Rebecca’s husband, Francis, organized a staunch legal defense, obtaining signatures from numerous neighbors attesting to her innocent and pious nature. The overwhelming character testimony persuaded the jury to find her not guilty; however, after the verdict was announced, Ann Putnam Jr. writhed in a “grievous fit,” claiming Rebecca’s invisible specter was tormenting her. The Court of Oyer and Terminer urged the jury to reconsider their decision. After a short redeliberation, they came back with a guilty verdict. Rebecca Nurse was executed on July 19, 1692.

Like many individuals executed for witchcraft, Rebecca’s body was unceremoniously dumped into a shallow mass grave known as ‘the crevice.’ Her corpse was reportedly retrieved by one of her sons—a dangerous task that carried a death sentence if caught—and reinterred in the family graveyard. A granite obelisk commemorating her martyrdom was installed in 1885. Another victim of hysteria, George Jacobs, whose remains were recently discovered on his former property, also lies buried in the Nurse cemetery—his grave is the only known burial site of a condemned Salem witch.

Located behind 67 Centre Street lie the stone foundations of the Salem Village Parsonage—the origin of Salem’s witchcraft superstitions. It was here, in January 1692, where Betty Parris and Abigail Williams first exhibited manic behaviors and convulsive episodes, telltale signs of bewitchment according to Dr. William Griggs and Puritan minister John Hale. As the Salem Witch Trials progressed, however, Reverend Hale expressed growing doubts about the accusers’ legitimacy and the court’s overreliance on spectral evidence. He authored the famous retrospective “A Modest Enquiry into the Nature of Witchcraft”—published posthumously in 1702—which analyzes the Puritan community’s complex social and religious beliefs concerning occultism and black magic. Reverend Hale’s farmstead (c. 1694) can be found in Beverly, Massachusetts.

"Witch City" possesses a plethora of witchcraft-related tourist attractions; however, it is important to note that many of these establishments sacrifice historic accuracy for shock value. Other businesses, such as the Salem Witch Museum and Witch Dungeon Museum, while generally authentic in their historical accounts, are plagued by long queues, underwhelming displays, and overpriced admission fees. Salem thrives on spooky tourism, especially around Halloween, but sightseer beware when searching for factual information.

The Salem Witch Trials denote a dark period in Colonial America—a time when delusion eclipsed reason and prejudice provoked punishment. Religious zeal and sociopolitical turmoil were the harbingers of irrationality, mistrust, and trepidation. Yet, amidst all this bigotry and instigative tub-thumping, a satanic evil did infiltrate Salem; not witches, but the unjust executions of innocent people. Perhaps that atrocity was Satan’s goal all along.