09: The Woods
[BACK]
A PRODUCT OF THE WHISPERFORGE: SOUND & STORY, BROUGHT TO LIFE
[[MUSIC: “Lakeside Path” by Blue Dot Sessions]]
KATE: Hello, and welcome to Remarkable Providences, the podcast about refugees and revelations, massacres in Maine, and, of course, the Salem Witch Trials. I’m your tour guide, Kate Devorak.
Last time, we took a closer look at Tituba’s life and potential indigenous origins, specifically focusing on Puritan views on slavery and “the other”. The colonizers of New England had a pretty dicey relationship with the native populations of the region, and, given that they were in the midst of a large-scale war with the French and their indigenous allies in 1692, that wasn’t improving any time soon.
The vast influence of King William’s War is a bit too much to tackle in one episode, so I’ll be narrowing it down to links between the accusers in Salem and the War’s effect on how the Puritans saw the indigenous people of New England.
By the way, when I start discussing the wars, there are going to be some pretty graphic descriptions of violence, so I’ll give you a heads-up for that. Check the show notes if you want specifics.
The Europeans in the region would have come into contact with many indigenous tribes, specifically the Pequot, Mohegan, Wompanog, and Naragensett tribes, as well as the tribes belonging to the Wabanaki and the Iroquois Confederacies, respectively.
Since they’ll be coming up a bunch in this episode, let me clarify- the Wabanaki Confederacy is made up of five major nations- the Mi'kmaq, Maliseet, Passamaquoddy, Abenaki, and Penobscot, each with their own cultures and languages, but for the sake of simplicity, and given the lack of specificity in historical records, I will be referring to members of the Confederacy as “the Wabanaki”.
By 1692, the English of the Massachusetts Bay Colony had been involved in three wars with the indigenous population- the Pequot War, King Philip's War, and the current conflict, King William’s War, which was technically against the French, but conveniently allowed the colonizers to continue pushing indigenous tribes further off their lands.
The Pequot War began in July of 1636, more or less officially kicked off with the murder of an English trader, John Oldham, and some of his men by a group of Narragensett men, who in turn blamed the attack on their traditional enemies, the Pequot. Of course, things are never that simple, and this incident was essentially the breaking point after decades of conflict between the tribes in the area, which was greatly exacerbated by the presence of the Dutch and English, who made the competition for trade, land, and resources all the more cutthroat.
[[MUSIC: Somber]]
The war lasted just over two years, ending in 1638. While the war took place primarily in modern-day Connecticut, many English from the Massachusetts Bay Colony were directly involved, and it stands as the first major conflict between the English and the indigenous population of New England, and it’s especially important to consider how the war was fought, and how the English saw themselves in this context. Specifically, I want to mention the Battle of Mistick, or more appropriately termed “the Mistick Massacre”, a ten day siege of a fortified Pequot village by the English, which was a major turning point in the war. This is one of those “hey, heads up, this is pretty horrifying” moments. The campaign lasted from May 10th through the 26th of 1637, during which seventy seven English troops and about two hundred and fifty of their Narragansett and Mohegan allies surrounded and burned the Pequot fort at Mistick, Connecticut. About four hundred Pequot were killed in less than an hour, nearly half of them women and children, many burned to death. Those who tried to escape were shot by the English and their allies. Captain John Mason, one of the leaders of the English troops, declared the Massacre to be an act of God in favor of the colonizers, saying that God, quote, “laughed his enemies and the enemies of his people to scorn.” This was a sentiment shared pretty much across the board by the English, who believed that their defeat of the Pequot was a sign of God’s favor. Super cool of God to help y’all murder and enslave a bunch of human beings so white folks can hang out in Connecticut.
A period of relative peace followed until the start of King Philip’s War 38 years later. While this war was primarily concentrated in the southern New England colonies around Rhode Island and Plymouth, it also extended north to New Hampshire and the Maine frontier. The primary conflict was between the English colonizers and the confederation of indigenous peoples, namely the Wampanoag and Narragansett, led by the Wampanoag sachem, of chief, Metacom. Because the English couldn’t be bothered with learning non-anglican names, they called Metacom “King Phillip”, hence the war. The inciting incident involves the execution of three Wamanog warriors by the Plymouth Colony for the murder of John Sassamon, an indigenous Puritan convert and advisor to Metacom, whom the sachem believed was an English spy. Again, these things are obviously more complicated, and this had more to do with huge failures in diplomacy, the English’s growing cultural influence and their general presence in New England. Lasting between 1675 and 1678, it is considered one of the bloodiest US wars per capita, leaving hundreds of colonists and thousands of Native Americans dead, decimating both indigenous and English settlements, displacing hundreds of English colonizers, and nearly wiping out the Wampanog and Narragansett nations via murder, disease, and enslavement. The English also burned more noncombatants alive to get their way, because that’s what Jesus would have wanted.
[[MUSIC: Tense]]
A couple decades of further English expansion, distrust of the French, and broken treaties later, New England was plunged into another conflict in 1688- King William’s War. Unlike the previous two wars, King William’s War did not specifically pit the English and indigenous people against each other, though both were ready and willing to use it as an excuse to settle some scores. King William’s War was actually more of an extension of the Nine Years’ War, which was waging back in Europe, between the French and basically everyone else. The North American theater set the English colonists against the largely-Catholic French, who had established settlements in modern-day Canada, as well as the indigenous allies of the French, the Wabanaki Confederacy. And if there’s one thing Puritans like less than a brown person, it’s a Catholic.
[[MUSIC continues]]
Mary Beth Norton, a Salem historian and author of In the Devil’s Snare, asserts that the root of the witch crisis surrounds the government’s handling of the King Phillip and King William’s wars, the resulting refugee crisis, and the English fear of and prejudice against the Native Americans. While I don’t totally agree with her theory that the conflicts in the northern frontier is the capital-E Explanation for the trials, I think it was definitely a factor, and her book is one of the first big works dedicated to it, so I would totally recommend checking it out.
[[Music continues]]
As Norton points out, many of the folks who would get tied up in the Salem witch trials had connections to the colonial frontier in Maine- either through land and family, military experience, or were refugees who had been forced out. Mercy Lewis, servant to the Putnam family and one of the main accusers, was a refugee from Maine who had come to Salem after much of her family had been killed in Wabanaki raids. Abigail Hobbs, one of the more famous confessors during the trials, also lived in Maine for a brief time, and may have known the Lewis family. George Burroughs, Salem Village’s second minister, was serving as the minister of Casco, Maine in 1692. Mercy Lewis had actually served as his maid for a short time. Burroughs had survived a few attacks on the Maine settlements during King William’s War. Other Puritans would not be so lucky.
Throughout the trials, we’ll see in court transcripts both the accusers and the accused talk about the Devil as “the black man” or “the man in black”. I think it’s important to unpack these to sneak a peek into the minds of these folks. While these phrases are sometimes used interchangeably, at other times it is very clear whether the person was referring to the spector’s skin color versus the color of their clothes. I’ve also seen the term “a dark countenance” used, which I take to be more like a description of their aura. Mary Beth Norton points to this as an indication of the Puritans’ fear and vilification of the Native Americans (specifically the Wabanaki), and I am inclined to believe that. Whether or not all of the Puritans would have been conscious of that association, I’m not sure, but given the greater historical context and what we know about the folks more involved in the trials, racial bias was bound to seep in. Plus in a couple of transcripts the person interrogated blatantly says that the Devil looks like a Native American, so there you have it.
[[MUSIC: Quirky]]
Take, for example, the bizarre tale spun by Sarah Osbourne during her questioning, and the, quote, “thing like an Indian, all black” that dragged her out of bed by her neck. I don’t know if Sarah had any direct ties to the frontier, but she could very well have heard stories of settlers being dragged out of their homes in the middle of the night by Wabanaki warriors to be killed or taken as captives. And I imagine that might give someone, especially a sickly older woman already concerned with the legal status of her land, some racist nightmares.
[[MUSIC: Tense]]
The Wars of Kings Phillip and William created a refugee crisis in the colony, with many colonists fleeing from the frontier down to the coast of Massachusetts, where many had originally lived or still had family. What these refugees had seen in their time in Maine would stay with them, and that fear and trauma could bubble up in the most horrifying ways. There’s a disturbing incident that occurred in Marblehead, a town just south of Salem, that perfectly illustrates the built up anxiety and hatred that festered during the wars.
[[Music continues]]
This comes from a disposition to the General Court signed by a Marblehead mariner named Robert Roules from July of 1677, during King Philip's War. Roules describes an incident in which the ship he worked on was captured by a group of unspecified indigenous men, as had several other ships in the area. The English were able to overpower the men, and Roules’ ship managed to return to Marblehead with two captives. Word had spread that all of the English had been killed in the raid, so an angry mob had formed when the ship approached. The two indigenous men were to be transported to Boston, much to the chagrin of the Marblehead men who had inspected the ship, since they made it clear to the English survivors that they would have preferred corpses to captives. When they came to shore, all hell broke loose. Faint stomachs, skip ahead: I’m just going to let Roule take it from here, quote-
[[The voice of Robert Roules layers over Kate’s]]
“The whole town flocked about the captives, beginning at first to insult them, and soon after, the women surrounded them, drove us by force from them, and laid violent hands upon the captives, some stoning us in the meantime, because we would protect them, others seizing them by the hair, got full possession of them… then with stones, billets of wood, and what else they might, they made an end of these Indians. We were kept at such distance that we could not see them till they were dead, and then we found them with their heads off and gone, and their flesh in a manner pulled from their bones.”
These women were so consumed by fear and hate that they tore two men apart with their bare hands, regardless of the consequences. Of course, there weren’t any, but still.
Then there’s A Narrative of the Captivity and Restoration of Mrs. Mary Rowlandson, a 1682 autobiographical account of the titular Mary’s time as a captive during King Philip’s War. It’s regarded as one of the first American bestsellers, and brought the horrors of war to the parlors of the English throughout the colony.
[[MUSIC: Reflective]]
In it, Mary describes such horrors of war as the raid upon her town and her capture. She describes watching houses and barns torched around her, as the people inside were either taken prisoner or killed. Among the murdered were Mary’s older sister, her brother-in-law, and her nephew, who could not run away due to a broken leg. Early on in her captivity, she witnessed an incident in which a white pregnant woman and her toddler were hit on the head by their captors and thrown into a fire. The rest of the narrative details Mary’s nearly twelve weeks of captivity with the unspecified indigenous group, which mostly boiled down to a lot of starving and walking and praying. Spoilers- she makes it through by the grace of God. What a twist. Being autobiographical, it is obviously biased, and Mrs. Rowlandson makes her resentment of her captors known, referring to them as, quote, “infidels”, “barbarous creatures”, “hell hounds”, and “merciless heathens”. It clearly defines civilization as white, Puritan society, in contrast to the devils lurking in the woods.
Norton also points out that a good deal of afflictions during the Salem witch trials involve the accusers claiming that they were being burned alive, torn apart, disemboweled, or hit on the head by witches’ spectors. These claims were especially popular with those afflicted who had ties to the Maine frontier, and may have either heard stories of English settlers being killed in similar ways or witnessed it themselves. A later, minor accuser, Mercy Short, had been taken captive by the Wabanaki in 1690, after a raid in Maine in which her parents and three of her siblings were killed. Her afflictions draw heavily from her experiences from that time. Mercy Lewis had lost her grandparents and several aunts, uncles, and cousins to indigenous raids on Maine settlements during King Philip's War. By 1689, both of her parents had been killed as well.
To a person like Mercy Lewis or Mercy Short, that must have been the devil- someone who did not look or sound like her, who was bent on destroying her family and those around her for reasons she could not understand. We have the gift of greater perspective. A preteen standing in the smouldering remains of a village in the middle of nowhere? Not as much.
Given what we know about Puritan ideas about witches, it’s easy to draw parallels between the indigenous groups and witches’ covens. Both groups operated out of the woods, which the Puritan colonizers generally regarded as mysterious and dangerous. I’ve previously talked about the racist belief held by many Puritans that non-white people had been cursed by God for their sins, and besides the ongoing violent clashes in the northern frontier, it probably wouldn’t have taken much for the English to associate indigenous people with maleficum and the Devil. And if you think that might be a stretch, Cotton Mather writes about it with his usual brand of subtlety as he compared the war against witches in 1692 to the war against the Wabanaki, writing, quote-
“This inexplicable war might have some of its origins among the Indians, whose chief sagamores are well known unto some of our captives to have been horrid sorcerers, and hellish conjurers, and such as conversed with demons.”
Thanks, Cotton, for all those helpful facts, you horrible, terrible man.
[[MUSIC: Somber]]
And speaking of native folks being unjustly blamed for witchcraft outbreaks, we return to Tituba, a woman already regarded with suspicion by her neighbors, now faced with charges of spiritual warfare against the colonists and their children, ready to attempt to defend herself against the some of the very men who would see her destroyed as those who looked like her had destroyed their prospects. As you might imagine, it did not go well.
[[MUSIC: Tense]]
Tituba would later tell Robert Calif, a critic of the trials, in a jail cell interview that she had been beaten by Samuel Parris the night before to make her confess. Maybe he thought that a scapegoat could end this whole thing quickly and avoid any embarrassment the minister might incur. Maybe he was a pathetic man who took out his own fear and anger on the one person in his control who could not defend herself. It was probably both. But it is also probable that he did not know how far this confession would go. Likely, neither did Tituba.
Almost immediately, John Hathorne launched in with his usual line of questioning-
[[The voices of Hathorne and Tituba layer over Kate’s]]
HATHORNE: “What evil spirit have you familiarity with?”
TITUBA: “None.”
HATHORNE: “Why do you hurt these children?”
TITUBA: “I do not hurt them.”
HATHORNE: “Who is it then?”
TITUBA: “The devil for all I know.”
HATHORNE: “Have you never seen the devil?”
TITUBA: “The Devil came to me and bid me serve him.”
KATE: This is where I imagine the crowd went absolutely wild. It was one thing for Sarah Good to point the finger at Osborne or for Sarah Osborne to go off about her spectral experiences, but Tituba was here actively admitting to being propositioned by the actual-factual Devil. And then, she kept going.
[[Music continues]]
For the sake of coherency, I’m going to be relaying Tituba’s story by combining her questioning from March 1st with her follow-up examination conducted in prison by Hathorne and Corwin the next day. Her testimony from prison just fleshes out her court testimony and clarifies the timeline.
[[Music continues]]
Tituba told the court that, yes, she had spoken with the Devil, that he had appeared to her in the lean-to behind the parsonage and asked her to serve him, but that she had declined. This was not the first time the Devil had come to her. He first appeared on the night of January 15th in the form of a tall, white-haired man in dark clothes. He told her that he was a god, and that he intended to kill the children with her help. He offered her a contract, saying that if she served him for six years, he would give her “many fine things”. If not, he would torment her too. The dark robes of the tall man might have conjured images of a minister in the minds of the Villagers. I wonder if Samuel Parris found any similarities between himself and this devil, imposing figures in black. Probably not, because he was too caught up in his martyr complex for any kind of self-awareness, but we sure can! At least the devil came with a generous offer. Six years, the average contract of an indentured servant, would have been a pretty good deal for Tituba. But Tituba refused to serve him. She said that in addition to the man, four other women consistently appeared to her. She could not identify two of the women, saying that they were from Boston, but she knew Sarah Good and Sarah Osborne. They were the ones who hurt the children, and they commanded Tituba to join them, threatening to do worse to her if she refused. Tituba said she was sorry for it. Hathorne didn’t seem to care. Not completely satisfied with her story, Hathorne pressed for more details. And by that, I mean mostly asked her the same questions over and over again until he got an answer he was satisfied with. So Tituba went on to say how the witches had forced her to harm the girls. Much like how Parris forced her into this confession, one might say. She also clarified that the man who first approached her also appeared to her in the shape of a hog, or as a big black dog. She mentioned several other animals as well. The man had offered her a little yellow bird, presumably as a witch’s familiar, and that Sarah Good also had one that Tituba had seen sucking between her fingers.
[[MUSIC: Quirky]]
The little yellow bird is one of those things that keeps popping up in court transcripts going forward as a popular witch’s familiar. For the life of me, I don’t know why. Maybe yellow birds were common in the area? Or particularly uncommon? It’s a mystery to me, but keep an eye out for them. Tituba also saw two cats- one black and one red, and a sphinxlike creature that had the head of a woman with two legs and wings (which was backed up by Abigail Williams, who also claimed to have seen this creature turn into Sarah Osborne), and a hairy thing that looked like a man and had two legs, which also seemed to obey Osborne.
[[Music continues]]
I feel like at this point, she’s just riffing. She’s taking what she knows about Puritan beliefs about witches, and tries to fit as much of that into a single confession because she believes that this is what they want to hear, which, admittedly, they kind of do. And maybe if there are enough details and she can spread the blame around, then they might find her too useful to kill. Or maybe they’d go off looking for these Bostonian witches and just forget about her. It’s not a bad tactic. Of the three women brought to the meetinghouse that morning, Tituba would be the only one to live to see the end of the trials, but she’d have to go through hell to get there.
Tituba went on to confess that she had also hurt Elizabeth Hubbard and Ann Putnam Jr. in their homes, having rode there with the five witches upon poles. Hathorne asked why she had never told Parris about any of this. “They said they would cut off my head if I told,” she replied.
Fair enough.
Then Hathorne asked, “What were they wearing?” Which seems like a weird question, but remember that this is a time when folks only had so many sets of clothes. So if someone had only two or three outfits, or a particularly distinctive item of clothing, it would make sense to try to identify a stranger that way. It’s not like they were going to sit Tituba down with a police sketch artist. Tituba probably wouldn’t have been much help anyhow since a) these were fake made-up people, and b) she couldn’t totally remember what they were wearing. She again described the man as being dressed all in black (I choose to pretend she said this while staring Samuel Parris dead in the face). One of the women was in black, and the other wore a serge coat (which is a type of twill fabric).
Suddenly, the girls began their afflictions again. Probably to get this whole thing back on track after that fashion detour. Hathorne demanded that Tituba tell the meetinghouse who was hurting them. Tituba said that it was Sarah Good, which the girls confirmed before launching into another bout of seizures. Hathorne asked again, “Who is that?”, and Tituba cried that she could no longer see, that she was struck blind. She then fell silent and would not answer any more questions. It had been enough.
[[MUSIC: Tense]]
And so the day ended with the three prisoners returned to their cells, awaiting their second chance to save themselves, and with the rest of the Village abuzz with the latest blow to their spiritual security. What they had hoped would be an open-and-shut case was now revealed to be a grand conspiracy. The threat to their community had spread from the physical world to the invisible, and no one was beyond suspicion. No longer could they rely on stories and stereotypes. They’d have to broaden their horizons, uncomfortably aware that the devil could lurk where they least expected.
[[MUSIC: “Our Names Engraved” by Blue Dot Sessions]]
Remarkable Providences was written, researched, and performed by me, Kate Devorak. It was produced by Dan Manning, and recorded by Chad Ellis. This episode features the voices of Josh Rubino, James Oliva, and Danielle Shemaiah. Our music is from Blue Dot Sessions. Find us on Twitter @RemarkablePod, and everywhere else @RemarkableProvidences. For transcripts and links to everything, visit us at whisperforge.org/remarkableprovidences
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Thanks for listening, and remember, the devil’s in the details.