Buttolph Williams House and The Witch of Blackbird Pond

One look at the Buttolph-Williams house is enough to transport the imaginative viewer straight back to America’s earliest century. Built in 1711, this first period building is typically medieval-English in style, with its massive posts and beams, its overhangs and finials, and its small leaded paned windows. It represents the most authentic restoration of a 17th century style dwelling in the CT River Valley, and contains a lovely collection of early furniture, kitchenware, and ceramics.

Few people are aware, however, that the Buttolph-Williams House was a source of inspiration, and the partial setting, for the Newbery Medal-winning book The Witch of Blackbird Pond, by Elizabeth George Speare. This fictional classic is based upon the story of Kit Tyler, an orphaned adolescent girl forced by necessity to live with her uncle’s family in Connecticut, who becomes involved in a case of suspected witchcraft when she befriends Hannah Tupper, a local woman who does not conform to Puritan standards of the day. Author Speare witnessed the restoration of the Buttolph Williams house in the 1950’s, and learned at the same time about the witchcraft trials and executions that took place in Wethersfield in the 1660’s, a full three decades before Salem.

Today the house is operated as a museum, and the rooms have been arranged to reflect various scenes in The Witch of Blackbird Pond. To see enlargements of photos, click on each image.

Kitchen hearth with settle and flax wheel. In this location, Mercy did her spinning, Kit spoiled the hasty pudding, and the Dame School was taught. Mercy, who had difficulty walking, slept by the fireside.

The hall, or best room, where the John and William called upon Kit and Judith. The young people knitted, ate popcorn, and

did some reading while “courting.”

The second floor chamber shared by Kit and Judith.

The Buttolph Williams House is owned by Connecticut Landmarks. To learn more or plan a visit: http://www.ctlandmarks.org/index.php

Links to info about real Connecticut witchcraft trials:

https://yourehistory.wordpress.com/2007/05/15/before-salem-first-to-die/

https://yourehistory.wordpress.com/2007/07/09/before-salem-first-to-confess/

Historical Fiction: The Witch of Willow Hall, by Hester Fox

My rating: 2 of 5 stars

The year is 1821. Boston’s prominent Montrose family has left town under a cloud of scandal, relocating to their stately “summer home” in New Oldham, a mill village in northern Massachusetts. Mrs. Montrose has been crushed by the shame of it all, but her husband is quite detached from everything but his new business venture. The three sisters make the move, but their brother remains behind, apparently oblivious to scandal. Their attempts to settle in to their new home is narrated by Lydia, the middle sister, who maintains a close bond with  Emeline, the youngest, but deeply resents  willful, Catherine, the eldest, whose behavior lies at the root of their problems. Lydia herself is quiet, studious, and sensitive. She has noticed with some trepidation that when she grows angry, strange things that she cannot explain occur; Mrs. Montrose, who is descended from a victim at the Salem Witch Trials, promises to explain all in due time.

From the moment she steps inside Willow Hall, Lydia feels a deep sense of foreboding, and the story she tells is romantic in some aspects, but deeply tragic in others. Having led a sheltered life, her viewpoint is that of a young adolescent, so the novel reads  like a coming of age tale for young adults. She is quite willing to grant legitimacy to  the supernatural events that occur around her, even though they make her fretful and fearful. Lydia’s emotions are amply described, but I did not find that they transferred to me as I read. The prose is competent, but here and there colored by anachronistic phrases (i.e. “I lost my cool” or I’m lousy at this”) that spoiled the mood. As for characters, they were types — the spoiled young heiress, the cad, the snide townspeople, the bored invalid aunt.  I was also puzzled by the book’s claim on the cover that  it takes place two centuries after Salem, when 1821 is only 130  years from the date of the trials.

I would recommend The Witch of Willow Hall to young adults rather than to readers looking for richer historical content.

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Folklore in My Garden: St. John’s Wort

Each year on Midsummer’s Eve, when summer begins here in New England, I stroll around my garden searching for the little yellow blooms of St. John’s Wort (Hypericum perforatum). I’ve never planted any. Around here it grows as a wildflower, and a few volunteers show up each year, in various places, sometimes the same and sometimes not. From the time of the ancient Greeks, it was considered to have magical powers to ward off evil and protect against diseases, and since early Christian times, the feast of St. John the Baptist, June 24,  has been considered the best day on which to pick the plant for such uses. Some sources have said the red spots appear on the leaves on August 29, said to be the anniversary of his beheading.

Other ideas stem from folk beliefs. The bright yellow blossom was associated with the sun, which made St. John’s Wort popular for divination and fortune telling. In Germany, for example, young girls dreaming about marriage in the coming year would pick a sprig in the evening; if it had not wilted by morning, her chances were good. The red juice from the crushed leaves was called Witch’s Blood, and made effective love potions. A poem translated from the German:

“The young maid stole through the cottage door,
And blushed as she sought the plant of power.
‘Thou silver glow-worm, oh! lend me thy light,
I must gather the mystic St. John’s Wort to-night;
The wonderful herb whose leaf will decide
If the coming year shall see me a bride.”

Similarly, it could foretell who in a family would die the soonest. Bringing the flowers indoors on Midsummer Eve would protect from the evil eye, ward off witches, promote good fortune, and prevent fires and lightning strikes.  (Guess I’d better bring some in tonight!) Placing a bunch beneath a pillow could banish nightmares, and in one case it rid a house of poltergeist activity! From an English poem:

“St. John’s wort doth charm all the witches away.
If gathered at midnight on the saint’s holy day.
And devils and witches have no power to harm
Those that do gather the plant for a charm:
Rub the lintels and post with that red juicy flower
No thunder nor tempest will then have the power
To hurt or to hinder your houses: and bind
Round your neck a charm of a similar kind.”

Be sure not to step on this plant, or a Faerie Horse just may steal you away. But perhaps you can avoid that fate by wearing a few leaves and flowers as a necklace.

Medicinally, noted herbalists used St. John’s Wort in ointments to heal deep wounds, bruises, and venomous animal bites. In infusions, it could dissolve stones in the urinary tract or kidneys, and  cure fevers, jaundice, gout, and rheumatism. It was also good for bed sores, lockjaw, and insomnia. Native Americans made use of St. John’s Wort against diarrhea, skin injuries, bleeding, and snake bites. In Europe, it has been used for centuries to alleviate nervous disorders, hysteria,  and insanity, and very recently, St. John’s Wort has been newly discovered as  a modern treatment for depression and virus infection. Today, there are many commercial preparations available as standard oils and liquid or powdered extracts. Now that researchers are taking this herb seriously for medicinal purposes, who knows what knew applications might be discovered?

 

 

 

 

 

History News: “Demon Traps” and King James I

How interesting!

A number of 17th century demon traps, the so-called “witchmarks” intended to keep evil spirits away from a member of royalty, have been discovered at Knole House, Sevenoaks, Kent.

Knole House – now located in a medieval deer-park – originally was an Archbishop’s palace, the house passed through royal hands to the Sackville family – Knole’s inhabitants from 1603 to today.

The marks were found under the floorboards and surrounding the fireplace of a room which was built for King James I, in anticipation of his planned visit to Sevenoaks.

The etchings, also known as apotropaic marks, are described to be interlocking, chequered and v-shaped.

They have been hidden for centuries and are believed to be linked to the  plot in which some Catholics, most famously Guy Fawkes, plotted to blow up James I, the first of the Stuart kings of England.

 

“A few months before the marks were engraved, the infamous plot caused mass hysteria to sweep across the county. Accusations of demonic forces and witches at work were rife. The etchings, also known as apotropaic marks, are described to be interlocking, chequered and v-shaped. They were thought to form a ‘demon trap’, warding off demonic possessions and have been dated back to 1606 by archaeologists who used tree ring dating methods,” according to Kent Online.

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Experts from the National Trust believe the markings were carved by craftsmen working for the owner of Knole house, Thomas Sackville, in anticipation of a visit from the King – a visit he never made.

These marks illustrate how fear governed the everyday lives of people living through the tumultuous years of the early 17th century.

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“King James I had a keen interest in witchcraft and passed a witchcraft law, making it an offence punishable by death and even wrote a book on the topic entitled Daemonologie,” said James Wright, an archaeologist at the Museum of London Archaeology (MOLA).“These marks illustrate how fear governed the everyday lives of people living through the tumultuous years of the early 17th century.

“To have precisely dated these apotropaic marks so closely to the time of the Gunpowder Plot, with the anticipated visit from the King, makes this a rare if not unique discovery.

“Using archaeology to better understand the latent fears of the common man that were heightened by the Plot is extremely exciting and adds huge significance to our research about Knole and what was happening at that time.”

 

Excerpts from MessageToEagle.com

 

Nathan Hale Homestead’s Great Pyramid – George’s Folly?

When guests exit the visitor’s center at Nathan Hale Homestead, they invariably ask, “What’s that big stone thing over there?” and “Why do you have Thomas Hooker’s bones?” (Thomas Hooker being a founder of CT.) The short answers are, “A memorial pyramid” and “We don’t, it only looks that way.” Wait a minute, a pyramid in Coventry, CT?

Memorial pyramids have a lengthy history, particularly in England, where they, along with various other odd structures, are often referred to as “follies.” The Hale pyramid was constructed in 1938 by the man who restored the house and property of Nathan Hale’s family, George Dudley Seymour. A patent attorney from New Haven, Seymour devoted his life to historic preservation, and while he owned Hale Homestead, he usually summered there, a gentleman farmer reforesting the area and tending to his animals. Among the latter was a cow named Octavia, after a Hale daughter-in-law; for a brief time Seymour ran a small cheese-making business, presumably in partnership with Octavia. His favorite animal companion, however, was a retired war horse named Thomas Hooker Bones. Seymour is pictured above, proudly astride Bones in front of the Hale house. TH Bones undoubtedly enjoyed his peaceful life following his WWI military service, and when his noble, courageous spirit departed this earth in 1937, Seymour decided that Bones was too fine a character to warrant a final trip to the knacker’s. He interred THB right on the historic property, immediately behind the house, no easy task, as a horse is much larger than a dog or cat. And he set about memorializing Bones in a way that not even Nathan Hale received. A few years later, the black dog that can be seen in front of horse and rider is Sheba, and when she died, she was also buried there.

There is a precedent to the story of George’s folly on Farley Down, west of Winchester, England. Erected in 1740 by Sir Paulet St John, this much older pyramid commemorates St John’s horse, who survived a horrific fall into a 25 foot chalk pit while fox-hunting. The horse might have had second thoughts about his good fortune when St John renamed him “Beware Chalk Pit”, but that’s another story. At any rate, Beware’s exploit is commemorated in the shape of a 30 foot high pyramid that still stands today. TH Bone’s pyramid is only half that height, but in the hills of rural New England, is no less a marvel.

TH Bones’ Latin epitaph, extolling his exemplary character:

Post revised 9/29/14.

Modern Lit: The Diviner’s Tale, by Bradford Morrow

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Single mom Cassandra Brooks comes from a long line of “diviners”, or water dowsers, and her father has taught her the secrets of the craft. Some folks say she’s a witch, and she has always felt like an outsider. One day while searching for a source of water on an about-to-be-developed farm, she comes upon the body of a young girl hanging by the neck from a tree. Horrified and saddened, she contacts the police, but when she leads them to the site, the body has disappeared. The Diviner’s Tale is the story of her reaction to that incident, which prompts her to question her sanity and her place in the world. What is reality and what is a figment of the mind?

Cassandra’s is a spooky sort of tale, a slowly simmering eeriness pervading it all. Like the mythological Cassandra, from time to time she sees visions, and some of them come true. She tells of her experiences in her own words, sometimes straightforwardly and other times, poetically and metaphorically. The language in this book is thoughtful, beautiful and affecting. Perhaps Cassandra thinks too much, complicating things beyond their significance. But as a character, she is engaging, intelligent and courageous, and if she’s profoundly unsure of herself, she nevertheless faces problems head on. The Diviner’s Tale also has its suspenseful segments, built around three different crimes that took place in three different decades. While it becomes clear who the middle malefactor is, the nature of his crimes, as well as the the identities of the first and third, require more delving into the details of the story itself. In the process, her most significant relationships must change.

As Cassandra herself concludes, “All we had ever been were stories, and saying ourselves, unveiling our stories, was the best, the only, chance at divining ourselves.”

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Historical Fiction: The Burning Time by Robin Morgan

My rating: 2 of 5 stars

Author Robin Morgan is a well known international feminist. In The Burning Time, her first work of fiction, she draws upon medieval court records to relate the life of Lady Alyce Kyteler, the unconventional mistress of Kyteler Manor near Kilkenny, Ireland. During the 14th century, Christianity was accepted by the Irish, but many of them blended their new religion with aspects of the old “pagan” earth religious traditions. The pope sent an emissary, Bishop Richard Ledrede, to Ireland with the mission of rooting out and punishing heretics.

Lady Alyce was a woman ahead of her time, one who flouted the pretensions of nobility. Alyce treated her serfs with dignity, developed her skills as a healer, followed the ancient calendar, and led celebrations of holidays such as Lammas and Samhain. When Ledrede visited her offering to restore her to the church and save her soul, she strongly rebuffed him. Although Alyce marshalled assistance from her influential relatives, Ledrede was able to bring charges of witchcraft against her.

This plot should/could have been a compelling one, but Morgan spoils things by turning her novel into a polemic with dialogue. Alyce is portrayed as a sort of Joan of Arc, and her serfs, who play a relatively large role here, are worshipfully enthralled with her. As for Ledrede, he comes across as the ultimate misogynist bigot who takes out his resentment over being sent to this backwater upon his victims.

What I found most annoying was the frequent use of the term Wiccan, the use of which has not been documented to before the early 20th century. I did finish this book because I wanted to know the outcome, but in places, I had to roll my eyes….

 

More Medieval Witch Images

The Devil making love to a witch. Ulrich Molitor’s Von den Unholden und Hexen. 1489.

 

 

 

 

Witch inoculating a man by shooting a twig through his foot. Ulrich Molitor’s De lanijs et phitonicis mulieribus, Cologne, 1489.

Witches concocting an ointment to be used for flying to the Sabbath. Hans Baldung Grien, 1514.

Witch riding to the sabbath. Wizard riding to the sabbath. Wizard riding to the sabbath. From Ulrich Molitor’s Hexen Meysterey, 1545.

Before Salem – First to Confess

Part of a series of posts on the 17th century Connecticut witchcraft trials.

Alse (Alice) Young of Windsor was the first individual executed for the crime of witchcraft in the English New World. link

The first recorded confession for familiarity with the devil was given under duress in 1648 by Mary Johnson, only a year after the hanging of Alse.

Mary Johnson was a servant whose legal troubles began around 1646, when, accused of theft, she was publicly whipped in Hartford. The incident was repeated a month later at Wethersfield.

On December 7, 1648, Mary was indicted by a jury as guilty of “familiarity with the Deuill (sic).” Under pressure from minister Samuel Stone, she fuly described her crimes. Cotton Mather tells us (Magnalia Christ Americana, 1698, VI 71-78): “her confession was attended with such convictive circumstances that it could not be slighted.”
So, what exactly did Mary admit to doing? Her contact with devils came about because of her discontent with her work as a servant. “A Devil was wont to do her many services, she said. For example, when her master once blamed her for not carrying out the ashes, “a Devil did clear the Hearth for her afterwards.” When her master sent her “into the Field to drive the Hogs that used to break into it, a Devil would scowre (sic) them out, and make her laugh to see how he feazed ’em about.” Mary also admitted that she was guilty “of the Murder of a child” and of “Uncleanness with Men and Devils.”

For some reason, odd in this theocracy, Mary Johnson was not indicted for murder or adultery. But the charge of familiarity with the devil stuck, and on the strength of her confession, was sentenced to death.

For several months prior to the execution of her punishment, Mary was imprisoned in Hartford, under the care of the jailer, William Ruscoe. She gave birth to a baby boy while in jail, giving proof to her admission of “uncleanness with Men.” It is not known if her hanging was deferred specifically due to her pregnancy, but this often happened when criminals were pregnant. The jailer’s son, Nathaniel, offered to bring up the child and educate him, and this arrangement was later sanctioned by the court.

It was reported that, before she died, Mary Johnson repented. The jailer was paid six pounds, ten shillings for twenty four weeks of services, ending June 6, 1650, which is assumed to be the date on which her sentence was carried out. According to Mather, she died in “a frame extremely to the satisfaction of them that were spectators of it.”

Paranormal Fiction: A Discovery of Witches, by Deborah Harkness

My rating: 1 of 5 stars

A vampire book for adults that isn’t written by Anne Rice? With witches and daemons as well? And it opens in Oxford. “What could be more fun?”, I asked myself. A Discovery of Witches has a very promising start. American Academic Diana Bishop is visiting the university to study the Bodleian’s collection of ancient alchemical manuscripts. One ordinary afternoon, she calls up Ashmole 782, and some very peculiar things occur – shimmering pages, weird illustrations, and, she can’t help but notice, spells and secret messages visible only to those who are in the know. Being a witch herself, descended from the infamous Bridget Bishop of Salem, MA, Diana’s in the know, though she’d rather not be and tries hard not to use her formidable powers. The instant she and 782 meet, the entire local community of others (i.e., nonhuman creatures) swarm around her, and not because they’re so excited for her. Diana is wary, but finds herself attracted to one of the others, a very ancient, very rich, and very handsome vampire, Matthew Clairmont. Long story short, they fall in love against all prohibitions, and go on all sorts of adventures to unearth the meaning of 782.

This vampire book is not suitable for adults, it’s way too inane. Diana has her doctorate and a very independent life, yet behaves like an adolescent with a crush on a rock star. Matthew wants to “feed” on Diana, but because he’s so in love, contains his bestial instincts. Other characters are equally as insipid and stereotypical. Surprisingly, since the author is a serious scholar herself, the history is mushy and given short shrift in favor of the mushy romance. Too lengthy, too wordy, too slow, and ultimately mindless and boring.