Haloween makes me think of witches and the Salem withc trials.

Over the summer of 1692, members of the Massachusetts Bay Colony became enamored up in a hysteria of superstition and scapegoating. From June through September, they sent 19 fellow occupants to Gallows Hill for hanging. They pressed another man to his demise with big stones. Other people perished in prison or wasted there for a long time. The victims had all been condemned of using witchcraft.

The frenzy started when preadolescent young lady* in Salem Village, Massachusetts, started acting strangely. Nine-year-old Betty Parris seemed to become sick. She complained of fever, twisted as if in anguish, darted about funny and plunged beneath piece of furniture. Her eleven-year-old cousin Abigail Williams displayed like strange conduct. Doctors could not propose a tangible explanation. Although many explanations for their symptoms spring to mind now, in Puritan Massachusetts just one hypothesis derived backing: the young lady* were victims of witchery.

A man called Mather had recently published a book that described a Boston laundrywoman who purportedly used witchery. The people of Salem Village described similarities between the supposedly stricken people in Boston and their own town’s young cousins. Shortly, more local girls were displaying unusual demeanor that reminded people of trances and epileptic fits.

In a mad hunt for witches, the townsfolk first targeted women from the border of their residential area. For instance, the charged Sarah Good was particularly poor and occasionally solicited for food and shelter. Sarah Osburne had scandalously married her indentured servant and went to church service infrequently. And an enslaved woman called Tituba, whom assorted accounts describe as African or Native American, was also an easy target. The three women were brought before local judges on accusations on witchcraft. After a few days of interrogation, they were sent to jail.

The month of March proceeded with charges of witchcraft dispersing to additional townships. Now noble members of society were incriminated too. Martha Corey, for instance, had been a honored member of her church. Her being incriminated didn’t draw question on the intensifying hysteria; it only sustained that Satan had pervaded the heart of Salem Village.

Once an individual was charged of witchcraft, judges would have him or her apprehended and questioned. The accused was generally believed guilty until shown innocent, and the magistrates pressed the charged to confess. Next, witnesses were collected and a grand jury convened. Defendants then went to trial and could be swiftly executed; the first individual hanged was tavern owner Bridget Bishop, who was indicted, tried, and killed in June of 1692.

In modern times, many explanations have been put forth for the juvenile girls’ unusual behavior. It’s possible that the pre-teens, who were dwelling in a repressive religious society, desired more attention or were merely bored. Their conduct might also have had a physical source such as bird-borne encephalitis, or even infected rye. A type of rye fungus capable of growing in the Salem region is now recognized to induce fierce fits, vomiting, hallucinations, and other physical troubles. As a matter of fact, the hallucinogenic drug LSD is descended from this source.
No matter the causes inherent the girls’ conduct, adults in their residential area had assorted motives to assault against neighbors. First of all, the Puritan’s had just lost their colonial charter. The future of their New World refuge was being seriously questioned, so people were on edge. Second, land was getting scarce. The first generation of colonists would not have adequate farming area to support growing children’s new households. In this circumstance, it isn’t surprising that widowed female landowners were targeted more than other people. Third, the townspeople were already breaking away socially. Merchants and farmers were becoming more and more distinguishable socio-economic class, and some historians have observed that charges of witchcraft reflected this class divide: accusers inclined to be members of the farming sector, and the charged were members of the rising social class.

By September of 1692, town leadership had grown suspicious of the witch search. One of the magistrates, Samuel Sewall, publicly apologized for his involvement in the frenzy.
Several former jurors also stepped forward to say that they’d been misguided in their opinions.  Families of the convicted were given financial compensation. With public assurance in the trials falling, the cries of the supposedly stricken were increasingly discounted. Charges of witchcraft finally ceased. In 1693, people awaiting trial in prison were discharged or gratefully obtained reprieves.