On an uncommonly balmy afternoon in late November, I peer out the window of the Springfield-Vandalia stagecoach. Whereas I should be full of excitement over attending my first session as a legislator, I can’t stop thinking about the embarrassment I suffered a few days ago in Judge Green’s makeshift courtroom. When Berry and I gave Billy Greene our note for the purchase of his store, he assigned it—without advising us—to Reuben Radford from whom he had previously bought the business. Radford then endorsed our note to Peter Van Bergen, a keen-eyed businessman, to satisfy a debt. When Radford failed to pay, Van Bergen brought suit against Berry and me. As I stood before Judge Green he lamented that he had no option but to award the tight-fisted Van Bergen a judgment against my horse and surveying tools. I’d have to come up with cash to pay him—nearly four-hundred dollars—or everything I owned would be sold at auction. Only my books escaped lien because Green ascribed no value to them; he winked at me as he rapped his gavel. But what good are books when my future is evaporating before my eyes? After jostling about in the stagecoach for nearly thirty hours, we are now approaching Vandalia’s post office in the heart of the capital. The smattering of log cabins that peek through dust clouds rising out of the town’s dirt streets are interspersed with occasional brick and clapboard houses. John Stuart, my mentor and a fellow anti-Jackson legislator, is seated across from me. His unperturbed countenance speaks of his familiarity with the proceedings soon to begin. I, on the other hand, expose my inexperience with a line of perspiration collecting along my newly starched collar. At the urging of several New Salem friends, Coleman Smoot a... ... middle of paper ... ...a bead of blood off her finger with my kerchief. “Is it better?” I ask. After hesitating, Fannie smiles. “Thank you, Abe. I believe you have the gift of healing.” Looking across the quilting frame at Mrs. Herndon I say, “I’m in a quandary and hope you can lend me some advice. Which of these two girls should I marry?” Annie glares up at me and proceeds to stitch with frenzy, staring straight ahead, not bothering to look down at her work. Noticing her long, irregular stitches I point to her oversight and say, “Why Annie, I think your needle has gone off on its own.” She jumps from her seat and throws her needle down on the quilt. I reach for her hand. She jerks it away. I beg her to sit down. “I was only teasing,” I say. Without acknowledging my awkward apology, she runs off crying. I stand, dazed as she disappears around the corner, my heart filled with shame.
This scandalous case centers on a woman named Katherine Watkins. On Friday, August 18, 1681, Katherine accused a slave by the name of John Long, also known as Jack, of rape. There was some evidence of violence, but there were also outstanding questions about her character and conduct. Those who testified, however, painted a different picture about certain events preceding the crime. They were John Aust, William Harding, Mary Winter, Lambert Tye, Humphrey Smith, Jack White (Negro), Dirk (Negro), and Mingo (Negro). Whether these individuals were so inclined because Katherine Watkins was a Quaker, rather than an Anglican, we can never really know. That certainly fueled the fire, though. The day in question involved an afternoon of cider drinking. Several of the witnesses in the testimonies recounted Mrs. Watkins sexual advances to multiple of Thomas Cocke 's slaves, particularly, a mulatto named Jack. John Aust pleaded that Katherine, at one point, had lifted the shirt of one slave and announced “Dirke thou wilt have a good long thing” (Sex and Relations, 53). She allegedly had thrown another on the bed, kissed him, and, “put her hand into his codpiece” (Sex and Relations, 53). The most interesting piece of evidence that Aust brings forward is that Jack was actually avoiding Watkins at the party, an apparent attempt at avoiding any intimate entanglement with her (Sex and Relations, 52). Finally, he reported that Watkins and Jack had gone into a side room (Sex and Relations, 53). Later in the trial, Humphrey Smith seemingly referred to Aust 's testimony. His deposition suggested that he and Aust had some reservations about Jack 's guilt (Sex and Relations 54). Clearly, the character of the plaintiff was considered important evidence in the trial of a slave for rape. The reasonable extenuating circumstances of the case might have granted the magistrates leave way
The author has a reputation for tough sentences, thus earning nicknames like "Ice Princess" and "25 to Life" among defendants. Several criminals who passed through her courtroom have threatened her life. Her family has had round-the-clock protection on several occasions. One chapter in this book is devoted to the judge's experience and perspective as a "victim" in regards to these threats.
Starkey, Marion L. The Devil In Massachusetts: A Modern Inquiry Into The Salem Witch Trials. London: Robert Hale Limited.
Donna M. Campbell. "The Salem Witch Trials." wsu. n.p., 2010. Web. 18 February 2014. .
Carlson, Laurie M. A Fever in Salem: A New Interpretation of the New England Witch Trials. Chicago: Ivan R. Dee, 2000. Print.
“The Salem witchcraft trials,” a phrase not too often heard these days in everyday conversation. Witches burning at the stake, or drowning in a tub of water, and perhaps the most humane way of their execution, hanging. This piece of American history is a prudent example of how everyday people can, and were, be lead astray from what would normally be considered ridiculous and preposterous ideas, into something that warrants these horrible means of human demise. What or more importantly who was responsible for this catastrophic loss of life? The Quaker society of colonial America was where these events took place. The term Quaker refers to a member of a religious sect called The Society of Friends, which had significant religious influence in the northeastern parts of America, perhaps too much influence. The man who played a great part in these events was Cotton Mather.
In the past, the word Salem has always been somewhat synonymous with the infamous witch trials. Thanks to works such as Arthur Miller’s “The Crucible”, many people find it hard not to envision a community torn apart by chaos, even though Miller’s play was not so much about the witch trials but instead a commentary on the rampant McCarthyism going on at the time he wrote it. Paul Boyer and Stephen Nissenbaum, however, see a very different picture when the Salem witch trials are mentioned. Rather than overlook the “ordinary” people living in the towns in which they write about (in the case of Salem Possessed, the town of Salem, Massachusetts), they instead take the instance of the witch trials of 1692 and springboard from them into a detailed inquisition into the entire history of the small village of Salem; or, in their own words, Boyer and Nissenbaum have “exploited the focal events of 1692 somewhat as a stranger might make use of a lightning flash in the night: better to observe the contours of the landscape which it chances to illuminate” (xii). That is to say, the authors strive to show how the witch trials were not simply a completely spontaneous event, but rather a long, horrible process by which individuals were singled out, tried, and executed in order to vent emotions of hostility towards change. The way in which the authors go about this, however, is in a somewhat difficult to comprehend style that goes back and forth between the years, forcing one to rethink all the facts thus far each time a new chapter is introduced. In addition, the authors tend to focus mostly on the social and economic aspects of witchcraft, with little to nothing as far as further explanation of the actions of the women accused.
In 1692 the area of Salem town and Salem village became very vulnerable to conflict. Severe weather such as hurricanes had damaged land and crops, the effects of King Phillips War began to impact New England society, and colonists were being forced off of the frontiers by Native peoples. The Church and the government were in heavy conflict. And those residing in Salem began to grow suspicious of one another when some prospered and others hadn’t (Marcus, p13).
The Salem Witch Trials was indeed one of the most disturbing events to have ever occurred in history. Though the madness was short-lived, it left a devastating impact on the village that rippled through all Massachusetts. One of the most prominent figures who hastened the end to this climate of hysteria is none other than Giles Corey. A simple and uneducated farmer, Corey serves as a paradigm of unparalleled fortitude and resolve; a hero who lived for what he believed in until the absolute end.
In this research she finds that almost all of the accused had ties to the Indian war (King Williams War). Many of the people who were accused were participants or family members of those in the war. The loss of their richness was God's punishment, which lead the town to be filled with fear and finding a way to escape. The community indication of panic, uncertainty and delusion is what made the author questions if these conflicts are what lead the events in Salem to develop.
Rice Jr., Earle. The Salem Witch Trials. San Diego, Ca: Lucent, 1997. Print. April 2011.
During his life John was a well respected and influential individual within the town of Salem. From humble beginnings, John had been a farmer throughout his life and eventually married Elizabeth Proctor. He had three boys with Elizabeth, all whom loved their father dearly. While loving and caring to his family, John was also a stern man who wasn’t easily swayed. His words often resonated with those around
Levin, David. What happened in Salem? 2nd ed. New York: Harcourt, Brace and World Inc, 1967.
Katherine accepted the blood, gulping it down with a fervor. "You could've put a straw in it," she snickered, rolling her shoulders, the stiffness in her muscles still present.
“I’m not sick. It’s just the blood. It makes me a little queasy,” I said, waving them away, “but it’s alright now. I’m fine.”