T.E. W. (terez93) reviewed The Ruin of All Witches: Life and Death in the New World on + 345 more book reviews
I have long had a fascination with witchcraft persecution, probably because it was aimed chiefly at women. This is one instance, however, where a man was at least, seemingly initially, the primary target, although, not surprisingly, his vulnerable partner was eventually drawn inextricably into the spiderweb. This detailed study is also yet another a fascinating window into the human psyche, which demonstrates how community and family tensions can boil over into violence.
This account, which could generally be described as an academic monograph, relates the account of Springfield, Massachusetts, where, in 1651, a precursor to the much more famous Salem witch trials occurred generations earlier, when an ostracized brick maker, Hugh Parsons, became the target of suspicion in a small frontier town. These events occurred at least two generations before those at Salem, so inhabitants were in even more dire straits than they would be a few decades later, their existence even more precarious. Life was even more difficult, entailing a perpetual state of uncertainty which bred near-constant fear, dread, anxiety and paranoia.
As was the case in many other areas and time periods, anything that happened, no matter how mundane - a sick animal, or even one which failed to produce a requisite amount of milk, or, worse yet, a sick or dead child, an accident, like a mishap with a saw, or seemingly unexplained events, like someone inexplicably falling from their overburdened horse for seemingly no reason, or even a woman's cooking not turning out as planned - all could be attributed to the malfeasance of witchcraft.
What wasn't different between this episode and Salem: families for, whatever reasons, who lay on the margins of their communities and who had quarreled with or had disputes with neighbors, and who also seemingly had experienced troubles in their own households, ended up being the usual suspects. Power-hungry elites, often the clergy, also fanned the flames of suspicion, bringing their congregants' accusations to fruition in the form of sham trials which relied almost exclusively, as in this case, on meritless speculation and spiteful accusations bordering on the ridiculous, like the above-mentioned events. A woman's cooking failure could be attributed by the ignorant and superstitious to witchcraft, even the accusation of which could result in death by hanging, or, worse, as in this case, from the appalling conditions encountered in jail while awaiting trial.
The major precursor to tragedy here: a feud developed between Hugh Parsons and a neighboring family, which was apparently one of the many who resented and disliked Hugh Parsons, a much-maligned figure who had been such since he had first moved to Springfield, it seems. Envy and rivalry resulted in the spawning of a vicious rumor mill, with the finger initially pointed at Hugh's wife, Mary, resulting in a lawsuit, an often-utilized tool by which aggrieved parties could seek recompense (people think that we're excessively litigious in the modern day, but we have NOTHING on our ancestors, who sued each other for reasons which today would be laughed out of court).
Apparently, Hugh lost one himself, and was long indebted to another villager to whom he was required to pay a fine. The bad blood in the whole community continued, not surprisingly, and nearly 20 years later, Mary Parsons was charged with witchcraft and even the murder of her own infant son.
As the case in other small towns of the period, there was little notion of the concept of privacy on account of the close proximity and intimate connections between members of small communities, not least because of the informant culture promulgated by fanatic religious fundamentalism. This more often than not, despite the admonitions of the clergy, led to intense rivalries between both individuals and families, especially when profound hardship pitted neighbor against neighbor in a fight for survival, notwithstanding often close ties of blood or marriage.
As I have noted elsewhere, I often wonder how practical reality won out in actual daily life for the individuals involved, however, as all were mutually interdependent on each other, and rigorously-enforced Christian dogma did play a role in keeping the relative peace, even if somewhat begrudgingly.
Spoiler alert, if you're not already familiar with the events: surprisingly, and unlike what would occur two generations late in Salem, where the accused were almost never acquitted, things seemed to go differently for beleaguered Mary Parsons. She was arrested and taken to Boston for trial, but this ultimately may have been what spared her from the gallows, if not from an untimely death. Competing factions within small towns often meant the rope for the accused, especially if they were universally loathed or envied by neighbors, which was much the case with the fairly well-off Parsons.
Mary was tried but acquitted of witchcraft, but for some unknown reason, she apparently confessed to murdering her son. Although there are some conflicting accounts, Mary reportedly died in jail. Her husband was also accused, but, similarly, in more forward-thinking Boston, he was acquitted.
Gaskill's monograph provides a detailed account of life in the small New England town, which was like many others in early America, and demonstrates that charges of witchcraft were often the result of constant stress of life on the frontier, where death was a frequent visitor. It was rare for a woman not to lose at least one of her children at some point, but death stalked the adults as well. Witchcraft accusations also often followed in the wake of community tragedies such as disease outbreaks, common disputes over financial transactions, or even slights or insults, real or imagined.
It's more thick description than argument, but Gaskill provides an excellent overview of the tangled web of events which led to the outbreak of witch accusations in mid-seventeenth century Massachusetts. Sometimes the exacting detail does leave readers lost in the weeds, and it can be dry at times, but it does an excellent job of relating all the intricacies of the events which led up to Hugh and Mary's trials.
As noted, these events occurred generations before the major confluence that was Salem, which ultimately spelled the end, rather than the beginning, of the witchcraze which had ravaged the continent of Europe over the course of nearly a century.
This account, which could generally be described as an academic monograph, relates the account of Springfield, Massachusetts, where, in 1651, a precursor to the much more famous Salem witch trials occurred generations earlier, when an ostracized brick maker, Hugh Parsons, became the target of suspicion in a small frontier town. These events occurred at least two generations before those at Salem, so inhabitants were in even more dire straits than they would be a few decades later, their existence even more precarious. Life was even more difficult, entailing a perpetual state of uncertainty which bred near-constant fear, dread, anxiety and paranoia.
As was the case in many other areas and time periods, anything that happened, no matter how mundane - a sick animal, or even one which failed to produce a requisite amount of milk, or, worse yet, a sick or dead child, an accident, like a mishap with a saw, or seemingly unexplained events, like someone inexplicably falling from their overburdened horse for seemingly no reason, or even a woman's cooking not turning out as planned - all could be attributed to the malfeasance of witchcraft.
What wasn't different between this episode and Salem: families for, whatever reasons, who lay on the margins of their communities and who had quarreled with or had disputes with neighbors, and who also seemingly had experienced troubles in their own households, ended up being the usual suspects. Power-hungry elites, often the clergy, also fanned the flames of suspicion, bringing their congregants' accusations to fruition in the form of sham trials which relied almost exclusively, as in this case, on meritless speculation and spiteful accusations bordering on the ridiculous, like the above-mentioned events. A woman's cooking failure could be attributed by the ignorant and superstitious to witchcraft, even the accusation of which could result in death by hanging, or, worse, as in this case, from the appalling conditions encountered in jail while awaiting trial.
The major precursor to tragedy here: a feud developed between Hugh Parsons and a neighboring family, which was apparently one of the many who resented and disliked Hugh Parsons, a much-maligned figure who had been such since he had first moved to Springfield, it seems. Envy and rivalry resulted in the spawning of a vicious rumor mill, with the finger initially pointed at Hugh's wife, Mary, resulting in a lawsuit, an often-utilized tool by which aggrieved parties could seek recompense (people think that we're excessively litigious in the modern day, but we have NOTHING on our ancestors, who sued each other for reasons which today would be laughed out of court).
Apparently, Hugh lost one himself, and was long indebted to another villager to whom he was required to pay a fine. The bad blood in the whole community continued, not surprisingly, and nearly 20 years later, Mary Parsons was charged with witchcraft and even the murder of her own infant son.
As the case in other small towns of the period, there was little notion of the concept of privacy on account of the close proximity and intimate connections between members of small communities, not least because of the informant culture promulgated by fanatic religious fundamentalism. This more often than not, despite the admonitions of the clergy, led to intense rivalries between both individuals and families, especially when profound hardship pitted neighbor against neighbor in a fight for survival, notwithstanding often close ties of blood or marriage.
As I have noted elsewhere, I often wonder how practical reality won out in actual daily life for the individuals involved, however, as all were mutually interdependent on each other, and rigorously-enforced Christian dogma did play a role in keeping the relative peace, even if somewhat begrudgingly.
Spoiler alert, if you're not already familiar with the events: surprisingly, and unlike what would occur two generations late in Salem, where the accused were almost never acquitted, things seemed to go differently for beleaguered Mary Parsons. She was arrested and taken to Boston for trial, but this ultimately may have been what spared her from the gallows, if not from an untimely death. Competing factions within small towns often meant the rope for the accused, especially if they were universally loathed or envied by neighbors, which was much the case with the fairly well-off Parsons.
Mary was tried but acquitted of witchcraft, but for some unknown reason, she apparently confessed to murdering her son. Although there are some conflicting accounts, Mary reportedly died in jail. Her husband was also accused, but, similarly, in more forward-thinking Boston, he was acquitted.
Gaskill's monograph provides a detailed account of life in the small New England town, which was like many others in early America, and demonstrates that charges of witchcraft were often the result of constant stress of life on the frontier, where death was a frequent visitor. It was rare for a woman not to lose at least one of her children at some point, but death stalked the adults as well. Witchcraft accusations also often followed in the wake of community tragedies such as disease outbreaks, common disputes over financial transactions, or even slights or insults, real or imagined.
It's more thick description than argument, but Gaskill provides an excellent overview of the tangled web of events which led to the outbreak of witch accusations in mid-seventeenth century Massachusetts. Sometimes the exacting detail does leave readers lost in the weeds, and it can be dry at times, but it does an excellent job of relating all the intricacies of the events which led up to Hugh and Mary's trials.
As noted, these events occurred generations before the major confluence that was Salem, which ultimately spelled the end, rather than the beginning, of the witchcraze which had ravaged the continent of Europe over the course of nearly a century.
