Salem Witch Trials a Personal

Salem Witch Trials

A Personal View of the Salem Witch Trials

Sarah Good was a friend of mine. She and I lived next door to each other many years ago, and our children played together. We would spend hours together on our front steps, darning socks and mending the holes in our children's clothes. Sarah was a pious woman, and outwardly she put on a happy face, but few people had lived a life as tough as she. When she was but 17, in 1672, her father killed himself. He had been a prosperous man, but Sarah never saw any of her inheritance -- her mother remarried and Sarah's money went to her step-father. Sarah went on to find happiness with her husband. Daniel, but that happiness was short-lived. He died young and left Sarah with debts. She remarried to Mr. Good, but he was never able to provide for her. She disappeared from my life shortly after the time of their marriage, out of embarrassment, I'm sure. She and Daniel were responsible for Mr. Poole's debts, and they sold everything to satisfy those creditors. We are poor ourselves, and I tried to help Sarah Good as much as I could, but we didn't have much to share. Sarah was desperate and I can't imagine her embarrassment as she begged for food and shelter.

I admit that I was not shocked when Sarah Good was names as a witch by that awful creature Tibulta. Sarah had fallen far from grace by the time Tibulta was handing out accusations. She was the most unhappy, wretched creature I had ever seen. When the people here started refusing her repeated requests for charity, she became belligerent, and was often seen walking through town talking to herself, throwing curses in every direction. After many hours of contemplation and prayer, I knew that Sarah's bad luck wasn't just coincidence, but she had been corrupted by the Devil. Her life had made her an easy target, and Satan moved in without any protest from her. It is most saddening that her daughter, Dorcas, was caught up in Sarah's misfortune. When the girl was arrested and pointed an accusatory finger at her mother, I knew for sure that what she was saying was true. We all know that children are the targets of witchcraft, and though Dorcas wasn't a victim like those other poor girls, but children are also God's greatest love, and He must have taken a special interest in Dorcas to give her the courage to tell her truth.

I attended the trial, and I am glad I was not called to testify against my former friend. I was conflicted and felt nothing but pity for Sarah Good. I was one of those who thought she deserved compassion rather than punishment. Hers was the only trial I attended and I was shocked by the ferocity of the examination. No matter what she said, her words were never taken for the truth, and it became clear to me that no one was interested at all in what she had to say for herself. She repeatedly claim to scorn the attacks on the children and claimed no knowledge of the spiritual evil, but of course, if Satan was speaking through her, then how could we believe any of her words? If she had signed on, as Tituba had, with the strange man from Boston, the devil in disguise, how could she tell the truth? The evidence I could not refute was the testimony of the poor girls who had been afflicted and tormented by Sarah and her cohorts. The children described, each one of them separately, seeing Sarah and the other women flying as specters through the night. The children, despite the threats they must have received from the women, they were brave and told the truth about what had happened. Other townspeople came forward with evidence I hadn't even heard of -- milk and cheese going rotten after a visit from one of the witches; animals tended by the women had deformed offspring;

As the trial went on, I was more and more convinced that poor Sarah had, in her desperation, turned to dark powers bigger than us all. It would have been easier if she would have confessed and plead on the mercy of Mr. Parris and his friends. I had seen what those poor young girls had suffered at these women's doing -- convulsions, fits, babbling, seeing into the evil spirit world -- and I knew that it had to stop. I was afraid for my own children, and the power of my past friendship was not enough to overrule my concern for the children and people of our town. When the verdit was declared, I was relieved and terribly saddened. Though I believed the evidence presented at the trial, it was heart-wrenching to think of what my friend had done.