American History Tellers - Salem Witch Trials | The Devil Against Us | 2

Episode Date: September 27, 2023

By the first week of March 1692, three Salem women had been jailed for witchcraft, and accusations continued to spread. Authorities publicly questioned people suspected of witchcraft, turning legal proceedings into dramatic spectacles. Witnesses cried out in pain, stamped their feet, and claimed to be haunted by invisible specters.The circle of suspicion quickly widened from servants and social outcasts to respected village elders, including the prosperous farmer John Proctor, and a former minister of Salem Village, George Burroughs. Soon no one was safe from the fear and paranoia sweeping Salem.Listen ad free with Wondery+. Join Wondery+ for exclusives, binges, early access, and ad free listening. Available in the Wondery App. https://wondery.app.link/historytellersSupport us by supporting our sponsors!See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Wondery Plus subscribers can binge new seasons of American History Tellers early and ad-free right now. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Imagine it's March 13, 1692 in Salem Village. You're mending a shirt in your sitting room, but your mind is elsewhere. You're pregnant and wracked with worry over the future of your growing family. You and your husband come from wealth, but he lost the majority of his inheritance to his brother. Now what's left of your property is being attacked by neighbors who are encroaching on the boundary lines of your farms. What's worse, for the past two weeks, your 12-year-old daughter

Anne has been tormented by specters only she can see. The sound of Anne walking towards you snaps you out of your thoughts. You frown at the sight of her ashen face. Her once rosy cheeks seemed like a distant memory. What is it, Anne? I thought you were going to rest. I saw another apparition, Mother. An apparition? Was it Martha Corey again? No, it was someone else.

Who was it? Where did you see it? You pull her toward you, and she blanks slowly. In the meeting house. It was a pale-faced woman. She sat in Grandmother's old seat. When she looked at me, I felt ice cold.

I don't know her name. What color was her hair? I'm not certain. What clothes did she wear? Were they brown? Were they gray? Think carefully, child. I don't know. Anne pulls at her hair in frustration.

You reach out and grab her hand to stop her. Was the specter an old woman? Yes. Yes, she was an old woman. She had wrinkles, I'm sure of it. You rack your brain to think of an older woman in the village you don't trust. Women who might wish your family harm. Was it Good White Clark? Goody Clark? I... I don't think so.

What about Goody Parker? No, it wasn't her. Anne's eyes well up with tears. Then, with a flash of anger, you remember the Town family. For years, your husband has been fighting with Jacob Town and his relatives over a parcel of land south of the Ipswich River. town family. For years, your husband has been fighting with Jacob Town and his relatives over a parcel of land south of the Ipswich River. It occurs to you that good wife Rebecca Nurse was born a member of the town family. Was it Goody Nurse that you saw? Anne's eyes light up as if

the ghosts torturing her have suddenly vanished. Yes, it was her. The specter bore the face of goody nurse. I am sure of it. Your jaw tightens with resolve, and you pat your daughter's shoulder. Be a good girl, and go up to bed. Anne nods and walks out of the room. You're desperate to end her suffering, and as you watch her leave, you're certain Rebecca Nurse has made a pact with the devil. You vow to do everything in your power to make sure she is punished for torturing your daughter. Hey, this is Nick. And this is Jack.

And we just launched a brand new podcast called The Best Idea Yet. You may have heard of it. It's all about the untold origin stories of the products you're obsessed with. Listen to the best idea yet on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. Have you ever wondered who created that bottle of sriracha that's living in your fridge? Or why nearly every house in America has at least one game of Monopoly? Introducing the best idea yet. A brand new podcast about the surprising origin stories of the products you're obsessed with.

Listen to The Best Idea Yet on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. From Wondery, I'm Lindsey Graham, and this is American History Tellers. Our history, your story. In mid-March 1692, 12-year-old Anne Putnam revealed she was being haunted by the specter of a woman she could not recognize. Her mother asked her a series of questions which led her to identify an elderly woman named Rebecca Nurse as the witch who was tormenting her. For weeks, a crisis had consumed the small Puritan settlements of Salem Village. Several young girls claimed to be haunted by invisible specters. Even as three women sat in jail charged with bewitching them, new accusations continued to surface, allegations rooted in prejudice, superstition, and soon even the most respected members of the community were vulnerable to arrest, and no one could be sure that they would be saved from the fear and hysteria

engulfing Salem. This is Episode 2, The Devil Against Us. By the first week of March 1692, four women and one child in Salem Village had been accused of witchcraft. All five fit the mold of a stereotypical witch in the villagers' eyes. Tituba, an enslaved woman in the household of the village preacher, was dark-skinned and foreign. Both Sarah Good and Sarah Osborne were social outcasts. Four-year-old Dorothy Good was accused after her mother was jailed, and Elizabeth Proctor was related to a woman who had previously been accused of witchcraft. But new accusations would soon expand the circle of suspicion. On March 12, 12 year old Ann Putnam Jr. made a

shocking announcement. She declared that she was being tormented by the specter of a pious woman named Martha Corey. Unlike previous suspects, Corey was a woman of high social status in Salem Village. As a full member of Reverend Samuel Parris' church, she belonged to the elect, the small exclusive group of people that Puritans believed were predestined for salvation. As a full church member, Corey shared communion bread and wine with the Putnam family. But even so, some villagers questioned Corrie's membership to the church, because more than 15 years earlier, she had given birth to a mixed-race son out of wedlock. After Anne Putnam told her family that Martha Corrie was tormenting her,

two church deacons decided to pay Corrie a visit to give her a chance to explain herself. They asked Anne to take note of what the specter was wearing the next time it appeared to her so that they could compare her description to Martha Corey's dress. But Anne claimed that the specter had blinded her, rendering her incapable of describing the clothes. Still that afternoon, the deacons arrived at Corey's home and announced that one of the afflicted girls had accused her of witchcraft. Corrie then asked, but does she tell you what clothes I have on? And the men were stunned that she knew of their plans. When they told Corrie that Anne had been blinded, Corrie smiled, perhaps believing that Anne's supposed blindness was a convenient excuse for her

inability to describe her dress. But the deacons saw something sinister in the smile, and they left her home convinced that she was guilty. The next day, Anne saw a new specter she could not identify. Her mother supplied her with potential names of family enemies, and soon Anne identified the woman as Rebecca Nurse, a 70-year-old member of the church in Salem Town, though she often attended services in Salem Village. Nurse had a sterling reputation, but her family had long been embroiled in a bitter boundary dispute with the Putnams. The topic was frequently discussed around the dinner table,

and Ann Putnam would have been aware of the long-standing conflict. The Putnams were also strong allies of Reverend Samuel Parris, the village preacher who had supported the witchcraft accusations from the start. Nurse's husband, on the other hand, was a member of the village committee that opposed Parrish and had pushed for his removal from the village church. With allegations brought against Nurse, the number of accused witches in Salem grew to seven, and soon the evidence against each of them would also grow. On March 14th, the Putnam's teenage maidservant, Mercy Lewis, began experiencing spectral attacks. Now there were five afflicted girls. Lewis's body appeared to seize so severely that adults had to restrain her. Around the same time, Abigail Williams, the 11-year-old niece of Reverend Parris and one of the first girls to be

afflicted, joined Ann Putnam in accusing Martha Corey, Rebecca Nurse, and Elizabeth Proctor. Villagers interpreted the consistency of the accusations as further proof of the suspect's guilt. But the girls' afflictions had another effect closer to home. Normally, older girls and teenagers were stuck at the bottom of family hierarchies. They were forced to do most of the grueling, monotonous work around the house. But now, the girls suffering afflictions were excused from performing their chores. They also suddenly received attention from adult men in their families, which almost never happened in the rigid patriarchal hierarchy of Puritan communities. And in these affairs, it was the men's opinion that mattered.

So when on March 18th, Anne's mother, the elder Anne Putnam, joined the chorus of accusations against Martha Corey, things began to escalate. Up until this point, Corey, Rebecca Nurse, Elizabeth Proctor, and little Dorothy Good had all stood accused, but no formal charges or arrests were made. But because the elder Anne was an adult, her complaint legitimized the previous accusations and persuaded the village men to take action. In 17th century Massachusetts, only adult men could file a legal complaint because women had no legal status. So on March 19th, Ann Putnam's brother-in-law traveled to Salem Town to formally accuse Martha Corey of witchcraft.

Magistrates John Hathorne and Jonathan Corwin issued a warrant ordering Corey to come in for questioning on Monday, March 21st. In the meantime, Corey joined her neighbors at Sunday services the next day. Abigail Williams cried out in the middle of a visiting minister's sermon, declaring that she saw Corrie's spirit separate from her body and sit on a beam, and that a yellow bird was sucking her fingers. Young Puritan women were expected to remain silent in church. But now the afflicted girls were not only challenging hierarchies at home,

they were disrupting church services, and the congregation was on edge. The next day, hundreds of villagers packed the meeting house for the pre-trial examination of Martha Corey. Magistrate John Hathorne began by asking why she had hurt the afflicted girls. Corey protested her innocence and affirmed her devotion to God, replying, I never had anything to do with witchcraft since I was born. I am a gospel woman. But the church deacon who had first visited Corrie at home then spoke out, describing her prior knowledge of his plans to examine her clothes. Hathorne berated her, declaring, You dare lie? You are now before authority. I expect the truth. Speak now and tell who told you.

Corrie admitted that she had heard gossip about the afflicted girls identifying specters based on their clothes. And then suddenly, Abigail Williams interrupted the proceedings, crying out, There is a black man whispering in her ear. In the 17th century, colonists often used the word black to mean Indian. English settlers regarded Native Americans as devil worshippers, making them natural allies of supposed witches like Martha Corey. Abigail's statement was considered spectral evidence, and the magistrates accepted testimony that the accused witches sent spirits through visions or dreams to harm the afflicted. Corey denied hearing any whispers,

declaring, We must not believe what these distracted children say. But Magistrate Hathorne pressed harder, urging her to confess. Corrie refused, insisting she would only confess if she were truly guilty. But under continued bombardment with questions, she broke out in desperate, hysterical laughter.

Soon the room descended into chaos. The accusers began contorting their out in desperate, hysterical laughter. Soon the room descended into chaos. The accusers began contorting their bodies in agony and mimicking Corrie's every move. When she shifted her feet or bit her lip, they acted as if they were compelled to do the same. The magistrates decided to perform a test on Corrie. First, they tied her hands together. The girl's afflictions disappeared. Then, when the magistrate untied her hands, the afflicted girls announced that specters were pinching them. The magistrates then retied Corrie's hands, and the girl's suffering ceased. Corrie insisted she had nothing to do with the girl's antics, declaring,

You are all against me, and I cannot help it. It did little to help her cause. Hathorne gave her another chance to confess and she refused. So he ordered her jailed in Salem Town. Two days later, on March 23rd, the Putnams filed a formal complaint against the second suspect their daughter had identified, Rebecca Nurse. They accused her of tormenting Ann Putnam, her mother, and Abigail Williams. They also filed a complaint against Dorothy Good, the four-year-old daughter of the already jailed suspect Sarah Good.

It had been nearly three weeks since 12-year-old Anne had first accused Dorothy of witchcraft. But the Putnams only took legal action after an older teenage girl in the village corroborated Anne's story by reporting that she too had been pinched by four-year-old Dorothy Spector. The magistrates questioned Rebecca Nurse the following morning, and once again, spectators crowded the meeting house to witness the proceedings, as Nurse fought to persuade her neighbors of the truth amidst a rising panic. Imagine it's March 24th, 1692 in Salem Village. You're standing between two guards at the front of a dimly lit meeting house. Candles cast eerie shadows on the faces of the crowds filling the pews, people you've known for most of your life. The magistrate John Hathorne sits at a small

table beside you, and you try to hold your frail body steady under his stern glare. What do you say to the charges of hurting these people? I say that I am innocent. I believe that God will clear my name. I have been ill. I have not even left the house these past eight or nine days. Hathorne leans towards you, narrowing his gaze. Is it true that you have tortured Anne Putnam and her daughter? No. I have never afflicted a child in my life. Suddenly, the younger Anne Putnam stands up from her seat, her young face burning with anger. Lies! Did you not bring the devil with you? Did you not bid me to follow Satan? How often did you take the Lord's bread and wine when you were secretly

pledged to the devil? You are shocked by Anne's outburst. You've known the girl all her life. You can remember when her parents first introduced her to the congregation. Hathorne bangs on the table to silence the spectators. Is it true? Did you take communion under false pretenses? Stunned by Hathorne's question, you throw your arms out in frustration. Oh, Lord help me. The afflicted girls in the front pew suddenly flinch as if they're being hit by invisible hands. Do you not see the condition of these people? When your hands are loose, they are afflicted. The guards on either side of you suddenly grab your wrists, holding them still.

Your weak joints ache from the pressure. The Lord knows I have not hurt them. I am an innocent person. Anne stands again, tears now streaming down her face. The devil himself stands beside her. I see him whispering in her ear. Two young women begin crying. Athorn stares at you, pointing at the crowd. Look at this. How do you stand there with dry eyes while witnessing these torments? You do not know my heart.

You would do well to confess. I am as clear as the unborn child. What a sad thing it is to see a church member be accused and charged. Hathorne shakes his head. You look out into the crowd, desperately searching for an ally. But the faces staring back at you are filled with hatred and doubt. It seems your entire community has turned against you. After a lengthy examination, Magistrate John Hathorne ordered that Rebecca Nurse be jailed.

Next, he examined the four-year-old child Dorothy Good, the daughter of the beggar Sarah Good, who was already jailed in early March. When Dorothy looked at the afflicted girls, they acted as though her specter had attacked them too. They accused her of biting them, revealing small teeth marks on their skin. The magistrates later re-examined Dorothy in private. She showed them a red mark on her finger, describing how her mother gave her a little snake that used to suck on her finger. Convinced that Dorothy was aided by a witch's familiar, the magistrates sent the four-year-old to jail, too. But villagers were shocked to see Martha Corey and Rebecca Nurse, both respected good wives,

jailed for witchcraft. But throughout late March, suspicion only increased in Salem. More adult women and one adult man also complained of being afflicted. Reverend Parris further inflamed the villagers' fears, because soon after Nurse's examination, he delivered a sermon refuting the idea that Corrie and Nurse could not be witches because they were church-going women. He cautioned, Let none build their hopes of salvation merely upon the fact that they are church members. He continued with an ominous warning, declaring,

Our Lord Jesus Christ knows how many devils there are in his church and who they are. I think the devil has been raised against us, and his rage is vehement and terrible, and when he shall be silenced, the Lord only knows. Reverend Parris' message was clear. The devil could lurk among even the most elite members of the church, and no one was safe. As the crisis spread, more alleged witches would be accused, and the entire community of Salem would be swept up in the panic of a full-blown witch hunt. to the Barbie movie today. Who created that bottle of red sriracha with a green top that's permanently living in your fridge? Did you know that the Air Jordans

were initially banned by the NBA? We'll explore all that and more in The Best Idea Yet, a brand new podcast from Wondery and T-Boy. This is Nick. This is Jack. And we've covered over a thousand episodes of pop business news stories on our daily podcast. We've identified the most viral

products of next time. time had they do it nintendo never fires anyone ever follow the best idea yet on the wonder app or wherever you get your podcast you can listen to the best idea yet early and ad free right now by joining wondery plus in the pacific ocean halfway between peru and new zealand lies a tiny volcanic island it's a little known-known British territory called Pitcairn, and it harboured a deep, dark scandal. There wouldn't be a girl on Pitcairn once they reached the age of 10 that would still have heard it. It just happens to all of them.

I'm journalist Luke Jones, and for almost two years, I've been investigating a shocking story that has left deep scars on generations of women and girls from Pitcairn. When there's nobody watching, nobody going to report it, people will get away with what they can get away with. In the Pitcairn Trials, I'll be uncovering a story of abuse and the fight for justice that has brought a unique, lonely Pacific island to the brink of extinction.

Listen to the Pitcairn Trials exclusively on Wondery+. Join Wondery in the Wondery app, Apple Podcasts, or Spotify. John and Elizabeth Proctor were prosperous farmers who lived just beyond the border of Salem Village. The couple married in 1674, following the death of John's second wife. In the spring of 1692, Elizabeth was pregnant with John's 17th child. The brawny 60-year-old John farmed the parcel of land they rented, while Elizabeth, 20 years his junior, ran a tavern out of their home. To help Elizabeth with her children and household chores,

the couple employed a teenage servant named Mary Warren, who was a refugee from warfare against Native American tribes on the northern frontier of the Massachusetts Bay Colony. The Proctors attended church in Salem Town and stayed out of conflict in the village. But that did not protect them from the panic spreading through their community. Back in early March, the younger Anne Putnam announced that the specter of Elizabeth Proctor had choked, bitten, and pinched her. Although the Proctors were in good standing in the community,

Anne's accusation seemed credible, because Elizabeth's grandmother was known to have been accused of witchcraft herself 30 years earlier. Unlike most of his neighbors, John Proctor was skeptical of witchcraft and the claims that several of his neighbors had been bewitched. So in early March, when his servant Mary Warren began having fits and told John that she saw a specter, he refused to indulge her. He put her to work at the spinning wheel and threatened to beat her

if she pretended to have any more fits. John's threats seemingly cured Mary, until he left home for a day, at which point her afflictions reappeared. In late March, Mary served as one of the afflicted witnesses in the examination of Rebecca Nurse. And when John learned that Mary had defied him and continued claiming to be a victim of witchcraft, his patience for the accusations reached a breaking point. Imagine it's late March 1692, and you're sitting in a tavern in Salem Village, relaxing after spending the day repairing a fence on your farm. As you sit beside a crackling fire,

sipping a tankard of ale, your thoughts keep drifting to the witchcraft crisis plaguing the village. Scanning the others in the tavern, you find yourself wondering who else among you is a witch, and how many more have yet to be discovered. You look up to see your neighbor, John Proctor, step into the tavern. He surveys the room and catches your eye. Mind if I join you? I've come to town to fetch my maid, but I could use a drink first. Not at all. He signals to the barkeeper to bring him a drink, then shakes off his rain-soaked coat and pulls up a chair across from you.

So, how was the hearing? Important enough to keep my maid away from her chores for a whole day? Mary should count herself lucky that she still has employment. People are rattled after the latest examinations. I suppose you would know better than anyone. Mary was quite overcome at Goody Nurse's hearing. The barkeeper sets down another tankard of ale. John takes a large sip and shakes his head ruefully.

I should never have let her attend. What are you saying? She provided valuable evidence. If we let these girls carry on, then it won't be long before everyone in the village is named a witch. You surprise me, John. I expected you to have a little more sympathy. John's face hardens. When Mary's fit started, I told her that she would stop seeing ghosts the minute she started paying more attention to her work. I threatened to beat the devil out of her if she didn't stop having fits. That cured her right away. You take a big gulp of ale, thinking back to what you witnessed in the examinations.

If you had seen the torment of those girls in the meeting house, John, people were in tears watching them. If you ask me, those girls should all meeting house, John. People were in tears watching them. If you ask me, those girls should all be tied to a post so someone can whip some sense into them. You can't truly mean that. Of course I mean it. We must keep our wits about us. If we don't, we shall all become victims of this madness.

John takes another swig of his ale and drops a coin on the table. Speaking of madness, I better fetch Mary home before she gets in any more trouble. You give John a farewell nod. As he walks out the door, you turn your gaze to the fire. You're troubled by this conversation, and you resolve to tell others about what you've heard. You suspect John is hiding something beneath his callous attitude, and you know you must keep vigilant. In late March 1692, John Proctor told his neighbor Samuel Sibley that he believed the afflicted should be tied to the whipping post, because if left to their own devices, we should all be devils and witches quickly. Sibley repeated the details of this conversation to others, and as words of Proctor's skepticism

spread throughout the village, many of his neighbors began questioning whether he also might be guilty. Meanwhile, accusations continued swirling around Proctor's wife, Elizabeth. On multiple occasions in late March and early April, Abigail Williams, the 11-year-old niece of Reverend Samuel Parris, named Elizabeth as one of her specters, describing how Elizabeth and Rebecca Nurse had almost pulled out her bowels multiple times. By the first week of April, more young women accused Elizabeth, as did Tituba's husband John Indian, the enslaved man in Reverend Parr Paris' household. On April 4th, Abigail announced that John Proctor's specter was also tormenting her,

bringing the total number of alleged witches to nine. As the accusations against Elizabeth Proctor mounted, two village men traveled to Salemtown to file formal complaints against her. Finally, local magistrates began to grasp the scale of the crisis and brought it to the attention of the colonial government in Boston. Deputy Governor Thomas Danforth decided he would preside over the next hearing personally. On April 11th, Danforth questioned Elizabeth Proctor in Salem Town. It was the first time that a pretrial examination was held outside Salem Village. Danforth could have halted examinations, putting an end to the hysteria.

But instead, many took his presence as an indication that the colonial government supported the accusations. Five afflicted witnesses were present. Danforth began by asking them if Elizabeth was the person who hurt them. Four witnesses were struck dumb, but John Indian replied that Elizabeth had choked him. Elizabeth firmly denied the allegations, declaring, I take God in heaven to be my witness that I know nothing of it, no more than the child unborn. Young Ann Putnam spoke up and declared that Elizabeth Spector had tried to force her to sign the devil's book. She also planted a

seed of suspicion against the Proctor's servant Mary Warren, claiming that Mary had helped Elizabeth Spector. And then suddenly, Ann Putnam and Abigail Williams began writhing in agony. They claimed they saw Elizabeth Spector sitting up on a support beam in the meeting house. Then they suddenly focused their attention on John Proctor, who attended the hearing in support of his wife. One of the girls described how John Spector was going to move the feet of a middle-aged woman in the crowd. The woman's feet immediately jerked up. When Danforth asked John to answer to the accusation, he declared, I know not. I am innocent. But Danforth did not believe him. He declared, The devil will deceive you. The children could see what you were going to do before this woman was hurt.

I advise you to repent, for the devil is bringing you out. For the first time since the crisis in Salem began, a man was now accused of witchcraft. And again suddenly Abigail Williams cried out, announcing that Proctor Spector was going to hurt two other women in the pews. Those women suddenly fell to the ground and began convulsing. A man in the audience joined in and insisted that he had seen the Spectors of John and Elizabeth in his bedroom earlier that week. Danforth ordered that both Proctors be sent to jail. The next few days saw a spate of new accusations,

marking a major escalation in the witch hunt. And for the first time, the affliction spread beyond Salem Village, as women who lived in nearby towns also faced accusations. Then, on April 18th, a group of men from Salem filed formal complaints against four new people, Giles Corey, Abigail Hobbs, Mary Warren, and Bridget Bishop. The following morning, their examinations began at the Salem Village Meeting House. Giles was the 80-year-old husband of the previously jailed Martha Corey. Like his wife, Giles was a full member of the Salem Village Church. But while Martha was a respected member of the village prior to her arrest, Giles' reputation was tarnished by previous encounters with the law.

Almost 20 years prior, in 1675, he was found guilty of killing a farm worker and ordered to pay a large fine. His marriage to Martha and his known history of violence likely influenced the accusations against him. When Giles entered the meeting house, the magistrates tied his hands to prevent him from practicing witchcraft, and when they untied his hands, the afflicted girls began writhing in pain. Reverend Parris took notes during the proceedings, writing,

"'Cory held his head on one side, and then the heads of several of the afflicted were held on one side. He drew in his cheeks, and the cheeks of some of the afflicted were sucked in. Once again, the magistrates interpreted the mimicry as an indication of guilt, and they sent Corey to jail. The second suspect to be examined was Abigail Hobbs, a teenage resident of the nearby town of Topsfield. Hobbs and her parents had fled frontier warfare with Native American tribes in Maine's Casco Bay. But since moving to Topsfield, Hobbes had developed a reputation for wild behavior. She openly defied her parents in public and often joked about seeing the devil.

Her antics came back to haunt her when 12-year-old Ann Putnam accused her of witchcraft. On April 19, 1692, Hathorne began his interrogation by asking Abigail, Are you guilty or not? Abigail shocked the room by becoming the second person to confess, admitting, I have seen sights and been scared. I have been very wicked. I hope I shall be better, if God will keep me. Hathorne then asked her to describe the sights she had seen. She revealed that she had met the devil once, three or four years earlier in the woods in Casco Bay. She said that Satan had promised her fine things if she pledged herself to him.

So she agreed and signed his book, promising to serve him. Hathorne went on, asking her if the devil had ordered her to hurt people. She affirmed that she had pinched Anne Putnam and the Putnam servant, Mercy Lewis, on the devil's behalf. But unlike at previous hearings, the afflicted girls remained silent, likely out of shock. Hawthorne sent Abigail to jail, too, satisfied to have extracted the first confession since Tituba's six weeks earlier. The third person to face Hawthorne that day was Mary Warren, the servant of John and Elizabeth Proctor. Accusations against Mary surfaced in the wake of the Proctor's examination. Hathorne made a note of her changed role, declaring,

You were a little while ago an afflicted person. Now you are an afflictor. But Mary Warren maintained her innocence and fell into a fit, insisting specters were attacking her. She became incapable of speech, prompting Hathorne to give up and send her out of the meeting house. Bridget Bishop was the final suspect examined that day. Bishop was a twice-widowed elderly woman who lived in Salem Town. She and her second husband had been convicted of domestic violence several times, and rumors spread that she was responsible for his death. Her reputation made her a natural suspect for witchcraft, and she stood accused of afflicting five girls.

When Bishop was brought into the room, Ann Putnam, Abigail Williams, and the other afflicted girls descended into their usual antics. Bishop affirmed her innocence, declaring, I never saw these persons before. I am as innocent as the child unborn. But one of the girls described how her brother had pointed a sword at Bishop Spector. And officials examined Bishop's coat and found a two-inch tear. Bishop continued asserting her innocence, but Hathorne remained unconvinced. At the end of the day, Corey, Hobbs, Warren, and Bishop joined the nine other suspects who were already in jail. Abigail Hobbs' confession added credibility to the earlier charges and expanded the devil's sphere of influence,

revealing a conspiracy that stretched from Salem to the main frontier. This confession changed the course of the crisis and set the stage for the most shocking arrest yet. Richard Bandler revolutionized the world of self-help all thanks to an approach he developed called neurolinguistic programming. Even though NLP worked for some, its methods have been criticized for being dangerous in the wrong hands. Throw in Richard's dark past as a cocaine addict and murder suspect, and you can't help but wonder what his true intentions were. I'm Saatchi Cole.

And I'm Sarah Hagee. And we're the hosts of Scamfluencers, a weekly podcast from Wondery that takes you along the twists and turns of the most infamous scams of all time, the impact on victims, and what's left once the facade falls away. We recently dove into the story of the godfather of modern mental manipulation, Richard Bandler, whose methods inspired some of the most toxic and criminal self-help movements of the last two decades. Follow Scamfluencers on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to Scamfluencers and more Exhibit C true crime shows like Morbid and Kill List early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus.

Check out Exhibit C in the Wondery app for all your true crime listening. For more than two centuries, the White House has been the stage for some of the most dramatic scenes in American history. Inspired by the hit podcast American History Tellers, Wondery and William Morrow present the new book, The Hidden History of the White House. Each chapter will bring you inside the fierce power struggles, the world alteraltering decisions, and shocking scandals that have shaped our nation. You'll be there when the very foundations of the White House are laid in 1792, and you'll watch as the British burn it down in 1814. Then you'll hear the intimate conversations between FDR and Winston Churchill as they make plans to defeat Nazi forces in 1941. And you'll be in the Situation Room when President Barack Obama approves the raid

to bring down the most infamous terrorist in American history. Order The Hidden History of the White House now in hardcover or digital edition, wherever you get your books. On April 20th, 1692, 12-year-old Anne Putnam made an accusation that marked a turning point in the panic. She declared that she had seen the specter of none other than Salem Village's former minister, Reverend George Burroughs. Burroughs was roughly 40 years old and had moved to New England as a child. He attended Harvard University, then began his preaching career in Falmouth, Maine. In that area, after years of relative

peace between Native Americans and English colonists, tensions over land and resources erupted into warfare. In 1676, Burroughs survived a Wabanaki Indian attack on Falmouth. After that, he decided to move south. And in 1680 he became the second minister of Salem Village. But like every other minister who had preached in Salem Village, Burroughs found himself in constant conflict with the community. Rumors spread that he mistreated his wife. He also became embroiled in a personal financial dispute with the Putnam family. When his wife died in childbirth, he was forced to borrow money from the Putnams to cover the costs of her funeral. After struggling to repay the loan, he decided to resign his post and leave Salem in 1683.

Burroughs returned to Falmouth, Maine, but in 1689, violence broke out there yet again. This time, Wabanaki Indians allied with France against Britain in King William's War, one of many battles for territorial dominance of North America. In September 1689, Burroughs survived a second Wabanaki attack on Falmouth. Hoping to escape further attacks, he moved his family 30 miles south to Wells, Maine. His decision proved to be a wise one as Falmouth fell to the Wabanakis in 1690. Many colonists lost homes and loved ones to Native American attacks, and ongoing frontier violence bred fear and anxiety. Puritans blamed their misfortunes on the devil's interference,

and they believed that Native Americans were devil worshippers doing their master's bidding. Ann Putnam was just four years old when Burroughs left Salem Village, but she had heard stories about him from her parents, as well as from her family's 19-year-old maidservant, Mercy Lewis. Mercy was a member of the core group of accusers in Salem. She was also herself a refugee from frontier violence. A few years earlier, she had lived briefly with Burroughs in Falmouth after losing her entire family to the same Wabanaki attacks that Burrough himself had survived. On April 20, 1692, Anne reported that Burroughs' specter tormented her and tried

to force her to sign the Devil's Book. She described how the specter of the twice-widowed preacher bragged about killing his first two wives. She also claimed how the specter of the twice-widowed preacher bragged about killing his first two wives. She also claimed that the specter boasted of bewitching British soldiers and leading them to their deaths at the hands of Wabanaki Indians. Anne's description portrayed Burroughs as a man in league with Native Americans and their master, the Devil. His remarkable ability to survive multiple Indian attacks only made him seem more guilty. But George Burroughs was not the only specter afflicting Salem Village. The next day, Anne's father, Thomas Putnam, filed complaints against nine people from Tothseald,

Salem Village, and Salem Town, accusing them all of various acts of witchcraft against his daughter Anne, Mercy, and other unnamed villagers. These new complaints brought the total number of accusations to 24. The next day, April 22nd, marked the first time that magistrates questioned a large group of accused witches simultaneously. The nine suspects ranged from an enslaved woman to the wife of a wealthy merchant in Salem Town. One of those suspects was Deliverance Hobbs,

the stepmother of the accused teenager, Abigail Hobbs, who had confessed to witchcraft only three days earlier, and the magistrates pressured Deliverance into reluctantly making her own confession. She also corroborated Anne's spectral sightings of Reverend George Burroughs. She said she saw his specter conduct a satanic mass on Reverend Samuel Parris' property. Her description identified Burroughs as the leader of a large and sinister conspiracy who sought to exact revenge on the village that spurned him. So a few days later, on April 30th, Thomas Putnam filed a formal complaint against Burroughs.

In the spring of 1692, Burroughs was still living in Wells, Maine, some 60 miles away from Salem Village. And because Burroughs was a Puritan minister, permission for his arrest needed to be obtained from the interim colonial governor, who authorized a marshal to arrest Burroughs in Maine. Soon, the minister would be forced to reckon with the anger of a village he thought he had left behind. Imagine it's May 2nd, 1692, in the small settlement of Wells, Maine,

where you have served as preacher for the past two years. The setting sun is casting a golden glow over the cottage you built with your own two hands, and you sit at the head of the dinner table watching your wife Mary pass steaming bowls of rabbit stew to your eight children. The aroma of onions and herbs fills the air as you bow your head to say grace. Lord, we thank you for the blessings your hand bestows. The light of the sun, the food that renews strength The dwelling that shelters The happy endearments of family Kindred Friends Who could be calling at this hour?

With a puzzled glance at Mary You rise from your seat and walk toward the door You open it to find a stern-faced marshal More men on horseback wait behind him The marshal unfurls a rolled-up piece of paper in his hand. Reverend, by the authority of the governor and his council of their majesty's colony of Massachusetts, I have been ordered to apprehend you and convey you to Salem. You will appear before the magistrates there and face examination,

for you are suspected of a confederacy with the devil. You feel your heart pounding in your chest as you struggle to process the words. A confederacy with the devil? I don't understand. Am I being accused of witchcraft? The marshal nods gravely. We must leave at once if we are going to make it to the inn in Portsmouth before it's too dark to ride. But I am a man of the cloth. I have dedicated my life to serving God. Witchcraft is a serious accusation. Indeed it is. Which is why you must come with us at once.

Marshal, it's been almost ten years since I last set foot in Salem. There must be a mistake. The Marshal's eyes bore into you. I believe the magistrates have testimony from some half a dozen witnesses. You are free to make your defense, but you must come with me. Say your farewells. Mary walks up behind you and clutches your elbow, her expression filled with fear and confusion. I am going to go with these men. Know that I am innocent of these accusations. Let your faith in God guide you while I am gone. I promise you,

I will clear my name and return to you as soon as I am able. With a final glance at Mary and your children, you step outside, where the marshal and his men await. You desperately want to believe that your faith and the truth will prevail, but you can't help but consider the terrifying thought that you might never see your family again. During Reverend Burroughs' two-day trip back to Salem, the afflicted girls reported seeing his specter with increasing frequency. Mercy Lewis described how the specter had abducted her, brought her to a high mountain, and threatened

to hurl her down onto 100 pitchforks if she refused to sign the devil's book. On May 9, 1692, after waiting in jail for several days, Burroughs stood before his examiners in a private room in Salem town. The magistrates began asking him about his failure to have his children baptized, which he admitted to. The magistrates also pressed him about reports that he had forbidden his second wife from writing to her family, which he denied. Next, they asked Burroughs about a rumor that his home in Maine was haunted. Burroughs sarcastically remarked that his house was inhabited only by toads.

After the private interrogation, Burroughs was led into the meeting house, where he was bewildered to see the afflicted girls immediately begin convulsing. The girls testified that the ghosts of the Reverend's two dead wives said he had murdered them. They also described his specter holding witch meetings and attempting to recruit them to serve the devil. When asked to respond to the charges, Burroughs declared them an amazing and humbling providence, but insisted that he understood nothing of it. In the past, Burroughs had boasted about his remarkable physical strength. Now the magistrates questioned whether his strength was a sign of supernatural ability. The evidence was stacked against him, and the magistrates ordered Burroughs to jail. Until Reverend Burroughs was arrested, little was

unprecedented about the crisis in Salem. Other witch hunts had sown panic and led to executions, but Burroughs was a man of the cloth. If he was really a personal agent of Satan, then he might be at the center of a sprawling witchcraft conspiracy that could threaten the whole village. If Burroughs could be a witch, anyone could be a witch, and no one could be trusted. While Burroughs and the other accused awaited their fate in jail, the new governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony was sailing to Boston. The suspects had endured preliminary examinations and harsh questioning, but soon the official trials would start. If convicted, they faced the threat of execution. And with the

governor's arrival, the accused would now stand before the highest authority in the colony and begin the fight for their lives. From Wondery, this is episode two of the four-part series, The Salem Witch Trials, from American History Tellers. On the next episode, a special emergency court convenes to try the accused Salem witches, relying on a controversial form of legal evidence. And from jail, John Proctor protests the use of torture to extract confessions. If you like American History Tellers, you can binge all episodes early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Prime members can listen

ad-free on Amazon Music. And before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at wondery.com slash survey. American History Tellers is hosted, edited, and produced by me, Lindsey Graham for Airship. Audio editing by Christian Paraga. Sound design by Molly Bach. Music by Lindsey Graham. Voice acting by Joe Hernandez-Kolsky, Kat Peoples, and Cynthia San Luis. This episode is written by Ellie Stanton. Edited by Dorian Marina. Produced by Alita Rozansky. Coordinating producers are Desi Blaylock and Christian Vanis. Managing producer is Matt Gant. Senior producer is Andy Herman. And executive producers are Jenny Lauer Beckman and Marshall Louis for Wondery. In November 1991, media tycoon Robert Maxwell

mysteriously vanished from his luxury yacht in the Canary Islands. But it wasn't just his body that would come to the surface in the days that followed. It soon emerged that Robert's business was on the brink of collapse, and behind his facade of wealth and success was a litany of bad investments, mounting debt, and multi-million dollar fraud. Hi, I'm Lindsey Graham, the host of Wondery Show Business Movers. We tell the true stories of business leaders who risked it all, the critical moments that define their journey, and the ideas that transform the way we live our lives. In our latest series, a young refugee fleeing the Nazis arrives in Britain determined to make something of his life. Taking the name

Robert Maxwell, he builds a publishing and newspaper empire that spans the globe. But ambition eventually curdles into desperation, and Robert's determination to succeed turns into Maxwell. He builds a publishing and newspaper empire that spans the globe. But ambition eventually curdles into desperation, and Robert's determination to succeed turns into a willingness to do anything to get ahead. Follow Business Movers wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen ad-free on the Amazon Music or Wondery app.