How To Hang A Witch

From 1692 to 1693, the people of Salem, Massachusetts, accused 200 people of being witches and executed 20 of them in an event known as the Salem Witch Trials. It began when two young girls began having fits and contorting themselves, making strange noises, and throwing things. A doctor diagnosed supernatural causes, and the girls, including another from a different family, blamed their behavior on three women in the community: an enslaved woman, a beggar, and a poor elderly woman. The women were brought to court, where the enslaved woman, Tituba, confessed she had made a deal to help the devil to destroy the Puritans.

Accusations flooded in. Courts were established, and spectral evidence—or testimonies of people who claimed the spirit of the accused witch was trying to harm them through dreams and visions—was allowed instead of physical evidence. Those who confessed were generally allowed to live with the idea they were saving their souls, but those who pleaded their innocence were deemed unrepentant and sentenced to death by hanging; one man was pressed to death. Years later, a few accusers confessed to wrongdoing, including one of the original accusing girls, Ann Putnam, and one of the judges, Judge Sewell.

While no single reason explains the mass hysteria of the Salem Witch Trials, scholars consider multiple factors that created a perfect storm of conditions: Life was difficult in Salem, and that winter had been particularly challenging. Puritan life was spartan, restrictive, and unpleasant, and people had few outlets. Anxiety about neighboring towns and tense relationships with the native people also weighed on the community. There was an upturn in infighting regarding land rights and petty grievances. Some scholars even speculate a fungus called ergot in their grain might also have caused the original hallucinations and behavior of the girls.

Ultimately, the trials were an outlet for the community’s anxiety, allowing citizens could enact revenge for squabbles and fights. The trials were, as Adriana Mather writes, “like crazy reality TV and everyone got consumed by them” (208). Further, anyone standing up for the accused came under suspicion themselves, ensuring that the trials continued. Governor Phips dismantled the courts only when his wife was accused, and by May 1693, he had pardoned any remaining people accused of witchcraft.