Stacy Schiff,
The Witches: Salem, 1692
(Little, Brown & Co., 2015)

I've long had a fascination with the events that unfolded in late 17th-century Salem, Massachusetts, where a witch frenzy gripped the population and led to the executions of 20 people. I've read much on the subject over the years, and visited the town itself more times than I can count. When Stacy Schiff's new book, The Witches: Salem, 1692, came out, I cracked the spine eagerly; while I'd never read her work before, Schiff -- author of, among other histories, the acclaimed Cleopatra -- comes with sterling credentials.

I was disappointed. Don't get me wrong, there's a lot of good history packed into more than 400 pages of prose. But Schiff has a rambling style of writing, drifting from one unconnected fact to another. She writes from the assumption that readers already have a comprehensive knowledge of the witch trials, introducing many characters and events as if we should know who and what they are. Worse, much of her text is dry stuff, making the book a difficult slog.

Part of the problem, too, is that she writes fantasy as if it were real, and makes assumptions she couldn't possibly know. For example:

Rebecca Nurse ... continued to torture Ann Putnam Jr., flaying her for thirty minutes with an invisible chain.

And, further down the same paragraph:

Little was discussed in and around the village that week besides the Nurse testimony, the Lawson sermon, and the arrest of Dorothy, Sarah Good's daughter.

It's probably safe to assume that Rebecca Nurse wasn't really flaying poor Ann with a spectral chain. And there's no way Schiff could know what the people of Salem were discussing. While it's safe to assume the topics she mentions were foremost on everyone's mind, it's bad history to state presumption as fact. (In other words, it's one thing to give history a literary flair, but that doesn't mean making things up as you go.)

I almost gave up reading at the start of the second chapter, which has this florid opening:

Skimming groves of oak, mossy bogs, and a tangle of streams, Anne Foster sailed above the treetops, over fields and fences, on a pole. In her pocket she carried bread and cheese. It was mid-May 1692; after a wet spring, a chill hung in the air. Before Foster on the pole sat Martha Carrier. ... They traveled at high speed, covering in a flash ground that would have required three and a half hours by a good horse....

Wait -- does Schiff believe the Salem witches were really witches? Does she believe flight by broomstick is actually possible? Is ... is Stacy Schiff a witch?

No, probably not. But in this instance, at least, she's also not a scholar. Once I start a book or movie, I usually stick with it to the end, no matter how bad it might be. But this -- which, besides some poor scholarship, is needlessly dull -- is one of the rare exceptions; I am barely 100 pages in, and I'm done. I have too many books waiting to be read to waste further time here.

I suspect some potential readers won't even get past the book jacket, which states that Salem was "one of the few moments when women played the central role in American history." Yes, our history books continue to be dominated by tales of white men doing important things, but even so that's a hard claim to swallow. Women, sung or unsung, have been central to a great deal of America's story.

by Tom Knapp
Rambles.NET
9 January 2016

In 1692, 14 women, five men and two dogs were executed in the Massachusetts Bay Colony on accusations of witchcraft.

There have been other books on the subject. Stacy Schiff's brilliant study, The Witches: Salem, 1692 delves more deeply into the society, the victims, their accusers and the root causes of the turmoil, as well as offering plausible explanations for the symptoms exhibited by many of the young accusers.

The charges against the victims and numerous others were largely based on the testimony of hysterical pubescent and prepubescent children with support from friends and even the family of the accused. The judges were among the most educated men in the colony, friends and family comprised the jury, and the accused had no legal representation for their defense.

Though several were Harvard graduates, none of the judges were trained in the law (the Puritans were litigious by nature, yet lawyers were not allowed to practice for fees until 1704 in Massachusetts). Several were ministers, one a physician, the majority merchants, and all men of wealth.

Accusation and hearsay sufficed as evidence. The reality of witchcraft was a given; if the Bible said it existed, so it must. The accused had little hope of proving their innocence. They were coerced to confess on the premise it might save their lives -- a promise not always kept.

Yet, when the frenzy ended hundreds of others accused and awaiting trial were freed and permitted to return to living as though suspicion had never been raised.

It's evident the madness was based on fear -- fear of the eminent threat of attack by Indians and the French and the anticipated approach of the Apocalypse -- and the rigors of their religion and society. As to the accusers, the bleak life they led was a contributing factor. Schiff points out children, servants and even slaves were taught to read, though the only books available to them were the Bible and other pious tracts that emphasized the disquieting sermons they endured in church.

Because of the burden of raising large families, children were bound out as servants and apprentices, often at young ages, raising the dire possibility of beatings and mental and sexual abuse.

I found the book a fascinating study and would recommend it to any interested in colonial history.

by John Lindermuth
Rambles.NET
1 April 2023

[ visit Stacy Schiff's website ]