Escaping Salem: The Other Witch Hunt of 1692 (7 page)

Within a decade of their arrival the two brothers married two sisters, Abigail and Sarah Law, daughters of a wealthy townsman. Each received a house as dowry. Jonathan soon became an officer in Stamford’s militia and was given more land by the town as thanks for his leadership in the war against the Indians in 1676. He served regularly as an elected representative at the colonial assembly and for several years as a member of the governor’s council. The brothers purchased real estate in the area and inherited yet more land on the death of their father-in-law in 1686, becoming major property owners in and around Stamford.

The brothers’ mercantile business had prospered until 1689, when John and his ship were captured by the French, who had just declared war on England and its colonies—he was never heard from again. Jonathan was still reeling from this personal and financial blow, but he would not allow the family’s maritime business, built up over many years, to be undermined by this French outrage and so he had recently joined with one of his sons and three other men to buy a replacement vessel.

Jonathan Selleck had become a key player in local affairs and had close ties to the countywide network of leading families. It was becoming increasingly clear, much to Jonathan’s delight, that his two sons would marry the daughters of Nathan Gold, a good friend and prominent citizen in Fairfield. Nathan Gold had sat with Jonathan Selleck on the preliminary court of inquiry investigating Katherine Branch’s accusations; both men felt a keen sense of responsibility to defend Stamford against the threat posed by witches.

Yet how best to protect the town? Mister Selleck was well aware that allegations of witchcraft could multiply rapidly and plunge entire communities into crisis. In the early 1660s, soon after he and his brother moved to Connecticut, a witch scare in Hartford had resulted in formal indictments against eleven people. That investigation also began with mysterious fits that were blamed on local women. The Hartford witch hunt had become part of local lore. It now seemed darkly familiar in light of Kate’s torments and recent reports from Massachusetts, where a wave of afflictions and accusations threatened to engulf an entire county. Those reports were not encouraging as Jonathan Selleck and his fellow magistrates launched their own investigation. Mister Selleck knew that long-festering suspicions could resurface on such occasions. Mary Staples was a case in point: many years had passed since she sought restitution for being slandered as a witch, yet now the rumors were back to haunt her in old age. Katherine Branch claimed that the specter of Hannah Harvey had named Hannah’s grandmother, Mary Staples, as a witch.

Jonathan Selleck also knew that trying to prove an invisible crime in court was not easy and could lead to serious problems, both inside and outside the courtroom. Religious doctrine and the legal code invited accusations of witchcraft, yet court officials were often much less impressed by the evidence presented in such cases than were the accusers and their supporters. Ministers, magistrates, and ordinary townsfolk agreed that witches posed a real and serious threat, but agreeing on how to prove witchcraft in a court of law was quite another matter.

A number of controversial acquittals in Connecticut had caused friction between officials determined to uphold legal standards of proof and local residents convinced of a defendant’s guilt. Of the eleven women and men indicted during the 1662–63 Hartford witch hunt, only four were convicted, to the dismay of those who believed them all to deserve death. A few years later, in 1665, another Hartford woman, Elizabeth Seager, was convicted of witchcraft by the jurymen charged with her case. But the governor refused to carry out the sentence, declaring the evidence inadequate. Goody Seager was subsequently freed on the grounds that the jury’s decision to convict was legally indefensible. The jurymen were furious and those who believed that Elizabeth Seager was a witch, of whom there were many, made it clear that they felt betrayed. In 1668, Katherine Harrison of Wethersfield also escaped conviction after a prolonged and bitter trial. When the magistrates charged with that case overturned the jury’s verdict and released the accused woman, they insisted that she leave Wethersfield permanently, both for her own safety and for her neighbors’ peace of mind.

These acquittals doubtless pleased the accused and their supporters, but others were horrified. Elizabeth Seager’s and Katherine Harrison’s survival dealt a heavy blow to public trust in the legal system and its willingness to protect settlers from witches. Between 1669 and 1692, there had been no witch trials in Connecticut. Ordinary folk had by and large kept their suspicions of neighbors to themselves and magistrates had done nothing to discourage that. But now Daniel Wescot had unleashed a wave of public accusations as people came forward to testify against Elizabeth Clawson and Mercy Disborough—though not against the other women whom Kate had named. Mister Selleck may well have felt that he and his fellow magistrates were themselves on trial as local residents watched closely to see how they would handle the situation.

The magistrates’ task was complicated by doubts and disagreement among residents of Stamford on the subject of Katherine Branch. Jonathan Selleck knew that some locals suspected Kate of dissembling. As neighbors visited the Wescot home to observe Kate’s torments, opinions as to her credibility became ever more divided. Joseph Garnsey and Nathaniel Wyatt both swore that Kate told them she was possessed by the Devil, yet Lydia Penoir told the magistrates that Kate later denied having said any such thing. Goody Penoir, who was Abigail Wescots’ niece, heard her aunt declare that Kate was “such a lying girl that no one could believe a word she said.” Mistress Wescot had also remarked—with an edge of bitterness in her voice, no doubt—that her husband would believe their maid over the pastor, or the town magistrates, or herself. “Neither Mercy, nor Goody Miller, nor Hannah, nor any of these women whom she impeaches, are any more witches than I am,” proclaimed Mistress Wescot.

Daniel Wescot had apparently boasted that he could control Kate’s convulsions. Some townsfolk wondered if he was also influencing whom she accused. Others suspected that Kate’s naming of witches might have been influenced by her mistress. According to Joseph Bishop, Mistress Wescot told him in front of Kate that she thought Mercy Disborough was one of the women afflicting her. It was almost immediately after she made that remark that Kate named Goody Disborough. Mistress Wescot, confronted with the allegation that she was prompting her servant, replied that Kate was “in her fit” at the time and so could not hear her—she could tell from the way in which Kate’s eyes glazed over. Not everyone found that explanation convincing.

Many townfolk were convinced that Kate was bewitched, but it did not necessarily follow that her allegations against specific women were reliable. Assuming that Kate was getting her information from the specters afflicting her, could they be trusted?

Deposition given by Lydia Penoir
and dated 24 August
1692, from the Samuel Wyllys Papers. The deposition reads as follows:
“the testimony of Lidia penoir[:] shee saith that shee heard her a[u]nt abigail wescot say that her servant girl Catern branch was such a Lying gairl that not any boddy Could beleive one word what shee said and saith that shee heard her a[u]nt abigail wescot say that shee did not beleive that mearcy nor goody miller nor hannah nor any of these women whome shee had apeacht was any more witches then shee was and that her husband would beleive Catern before he would beleive mr bishop or Leiftenat bell or her self. The test[at]or is Ready to give oath to s[ai]d testimony Stanford, Aug[us]t 24th 1692”
(Source: Reproduced by kind permission of the Connecticut State Library.)

Ministers taught that specters were demons who assumed human form on instruction from Satan: when witches signed a covenant with him, the Devil agreed to send demons on request to torment their enemies. According to the clergy, witches had no occult power of their own; demons acted on their behalf, taking on the appearance of the witches for whom they acted. Most people assumed that a specter’s appearance matched the identity of the witch who wanted to harm the victim. But might specters appear as innocent people so as to incriminate harmless and virtuous individuals? In Massachusetts, a growing number of ministers and magistrates—learned and great men—were casting doubt on whether information collected from demonic sources should be taken on faith. Was not Satan the father of lies? The court would need evidence that was untainted by the possibility of demonic fraud. Given that the crimes in question were occult in nature, such evidence might well prove hard to come by.

Jonathan Selleck and his fellow magistrates faced an additional problem. One of the accused, Goody Miller, heard that she had been named and promptly fled to Bedford, New York, where her two brothers lived. One was a magistrate, the other Bedford’s chief military officer. This was a canny move on Goody Miller’s part—and not just because her brothers were influential men who might be able to protect her. Several Stamford families had moved away to found Bedford in 1680. The distance between the two towns was only ten miles and Bedford, though close to the New York border, was at the time under Connecticut’s jurisdiction. But in 1683 a revised boundary agreement shifted Bedford into New York. This meant that courts in Connecticut had no jurisdiction over Goody Miller, as long as she stayed with her brothers.

In June 1692 Daniel Wescot visited Bedford. He wanted the magistrates there to send Goody Miller back to Stamford for interrogation. But Goody Miller’s brother refused even to question her, let alone order her removal. He told Daniel Wescot bluntly that he knew what would become of his sister if she returned to Connecticut. Another local magistrate agreed at first to arrange for Goody Miller’s return, but changed his tune after consulting with her brothers. He did promise to discuss the matter with New York’s attorney general, James Graham, but that gentleman also refused to cooperate (perhaps out of loyalty to Goody Miller’s brothers or friends who had sided with them, perhaps because he was loathe to cooperate with Connecticut, or perhaps because he believed that Goody Miller was innocent).

Daniel Wescot was not alone in trying to influence officials across the border. Jonathan Selleck hoped to bring Goody Miller back through the personal intervention of Colonel Caleb Heathcott, an influential landowner in New York and a close friend of the governor. Jonathan Selleck and Caleb Heathcott had known each other since the early 1670s, but there were no guarantees that their acquaintance or Caleb Heathcott’s friendship with the governor would ensure Goody Miller’s extradition.

Meanwhile, preparations were underway to prosecute the five other women whom Kate had named: Elizabeth Clawson, Mercy Disborough, Mary Staples, Mary Harvey, and Hannah Harvey. Capital offenses, including witchcraft, were tried by the Court of Assistants, a judicial body of twelve men elected each May by the colony’s representative assembly. (Lesser crimes were tried in local county courts.) The Court of Assistants met in Hartford, Connecticut’s center of government, some sixty-five miles away from Stamford. For people who lived in Stamford and Compo to make that journey in order to testify would mean an absence of several days from their farms and families, with all the in-convenience and expense that such a trip would involve. The logistics of transporting to Hartford all those who had volunteered information about the case would be daunting; the prospect of having to make that journey would most likely discourage other potential witnesses from coming forward.

There was an immediate precedent at hand for dealing with a situation like this. When the recent crisis in Salem had produced a deluge of accusations along with scores of witnesses, the Massachusetts governor appointed a special judicial commission to try the accused locally in Salem Town, even though Boston, the seat of government in Massachusetts, was much closer to Salem Village and the other affected communities than Hartford was to Stamford. Connecticut’s representative assembly decided to follow the example set by its counterpart in Massachusetts and so on 22 June created a Court of Oyer and Terminer (meaning to “hear and determine”). The special court would meet in Fairfield to adjudicate the cases arising from Katherine Branch’s accusations, “which are not so capable to be brought to a trial at the usual Court of Assistants by reason of the multiplicity of witnesses that may be concerned in the case.” The court included Governor Robert Treat, Deputy Governor William Jones, and five of the Assistants, John Allyn, John Burr, Andrew Leete, Moses Mansfield, and William Pitkin—an impressive group that would surely inspire respect and confidence. Jonathan Selleck and the three other local magistrates who had presided over the initial court of inquiry may well have been relieved to hand over responsibility for these cases to the special court. In its hands now rested the fate of the accused women.

When the special court convened two and a half months later, in mid-September, the magistrates dealt swiftly with the allegations against Mary Staples, her daughter Mary Harvey, and her granddaughter Hannah Harvey. The depositions amassed throughout the summer included hardly any mention of these women, other than testimony from Katherine Branch and those who reported what she said. On Friday, 15 September, the Grand Jury presented Goody Staples, Goody Harvey, and little Hannah to the court on suspicion of witchcraft. The jurymen took the position that Kate’s testimony was in and of itself sufficient to justify a trial, but the magistrates were reluctant to rely upon Kate’s allegations: even if she herself was telling the truth about what the specters told her, they knew from the controversy brewing in Salem that this was a dangerous foundation on which to build a legal case.