Happy Samhain...er...Pomona...er...Halloween

In my opinion, one of the coolest aspects of history is to see how ancient customs and traditions from hundreds or even thousands of years ago still manage to weave themselves into our 21st century world. Such is the case with many of our current holidays. Whether it be Saturnalia (Christmas), Imbolc (Groundhog Day) or St. Patrick's Day, it is astonishing to see just how many of these ancient pagan traditions are still with us today, even if their meanings have been lost to time.

Such is the case with Halloween. This holiday, which has become a favorite for children in many parts of the world, has its roots in an era from long ago.

In the highlands of modern day Ireland and many other parts of the British Isles, the Celtic festival of Samhain was celebrated by scores of small towns and villages throughout the land. Samhain (one of the most important Celtic holidays), which was essentially an end of the harvest festival, marked the beginning of winter's reign (called the "dark half" of the year). During this day (the night of October 31 extending into the morning of November 1), Celts believed that the barrier between the living world and the "otherworld" was so thin that the souls of the deceased were able to easily pass between the two.

And while it may seem strange to us in the modern world to hear of mystical barriers between one world and the next being thinned on a singular fall evening, we need to keep in mind that the ancient world of Celts was deeply dependent on the elements. As agricultural societies of the ancient world, Celtic people understood all too well what the winter months meant. Is it any wonder that these people, who saw dying trees, plants, animals and even people with the advent of winter, would see October 31 as a day when the barrier between the living and the dead faded?

During the celebration of Samhain, Celts would invoke the help of their local priests (druids) to pray to the gods for safety from death. These prayers reached a crescendo on Samhain, when the souls of the dead (particularly those who had died in the previous year) could come to the aid of their loved ones.

But not all the souls who crossed into the land of the living were kind. As a result, Celts went to extremes to protect themselves from these unwanted visitors. Bonfires on the outskirts of town were dedicated to the gods as a way to beg for the return of the sun and as a way to keep the evil spirits away. Average people would also dress up in various costumes to ward off the unwanted spirits from their village. In addition, blood sacrifices of animals were regularly made by druid priests, who believed that on Samhain they could better predict the future of the coming year than on any other day.

Samhain wasn't the only festival in the ancient world. In Rome, the celebration of Pomona, the goddess of fruits and gardens, was held on November 1. On this day, divination games (essentially fortune telling games) were a regular part of the Pomona celebration. One of the many games, particularly for men and women who had reached the age of maturity, was to bob for apples, peel the skin, toss the skin over one's shoulder and then analyze it to see which letter of the alphabet it resembled. It was believed that the letter was the first letter of the man/woman that the participant would marry. As the Roman empire continued to expand into northern Europe the ideas of Pomona (the celebration of the harvest) and Samhain (the celebration of the dead) began to fuse with each other. Soon the Roman and Celtic festivals became a united and mainstream celebration that spanned over an entire continent.

But Pomona/Samhain would not overcome every obstacle. With the emergence of Christianity as the preeminent force of the Medieval World, the celebration of Pomona/Samhain would change forever. With its hostility towards all things pagan, the Catholic Church quickly sought for the removal of festivals like Samhain (and Saturnalia). However, church authorities quickly realized that these beliefs and traditions couldn't simply be squashed out. As a result, the church adopted a different tactic. Under the direction of Pope Gregory I, church authorities no longer sought to remove pagan ideas but to Christianize them. Pagan idols were given Christian identities while the pagan devotion to the souls of the dead was converted into a devotion to saints.

Under Pope Leo VI this tactic of pagan "hijacking" was taken even further by the creation of All Saints Day, or All Hallows Day on November 1st. On this day, all of the chosen saints of God were praised by the church, while devout disciples and priests prayed for their assistance to intercede on their behalf with god (does this ring a bell with the ancient Samhain rituals?). As a result, the day before All Hallows Day (October 31st) was known to Christians as "All Hallows Eve", which was eventually shortened to "Hallows Eve'n" and then "Halloween."

But the demonetization of pagan beliefs didn't stop there. In 1486 Pope Innocent VIII made witchcraft (by papal decree) the work of the devil. In consequence, traditional pagan roles for female druids were castigated as being the work of Satan. Needless to say, this spawned a title wave of fear and animosity towards anyone who had the slightest appearance of being a witch. Ridiculous new laws and tests were created to help "identify" witches. Black cats were seen as being the animal embodiment of a witch's soul and were considered bad luck if they crossed one's path. Heck, even the famous Joan of Arc was killed on the grounds that she was a witch!

Halloween wouldn't alway remain in the hands of the Catholics. On October 31, 1517 Marin Luther published his "95 Theses" against the Catholic Church. One of his main grievances, which became a staple of Protestantism, was a rejection of all things linked to popes, priests and saints. As a result, Halloween became a horrific celebration for devout followers of Luther and Protestantism in general. For example, Puritan settlers in America forbade its celebration (along with Christmas) from taking place in the New World. Perhaps this helps to also explain their paralyzing fear of witches, which eventually overcame them and brought about the Salem Witch Trials.

Which brings us to today, where Halloween is seen as a secular holiday for kids. And though this current interpretation is a lot more serene than those of old (no witches have been burned in quite some time) it is still important to remember the origins. After all, they show us just how much we still maintain the legends and symbols of old.

Revisiting Salem: Part II

The Geography of Witchcraft
by Brad Hart

For the second installment in my series on the Salem Witch Trials, I have decided to look at the geography of seventeenth-century Salem, which has become the centerpiece in William and Mary Quarterly’s July, 2008 review of the Salem historical record. To be more specific, it is Professor Benjamin C. Ray’s article entitled, The Geography of Witchcraft Accusations in 1692 Salem Village that has caught my attention.

In this particular article, Prof. Ray challenges some of the status quo interpretations of the Salem geographical record, and in particular questions the validity of the analysis offered by Paul Boyer and Stephen Nissenbaum in their groundbreaking book, Salem Possessed. [1] As Prof. Ray points out, the most significant source for Boyer and Nissenbaum’s work was the 1867 book by Charles W. Upham, Salem Witchcraft, which included a detailed map of virtually all the households in Salem Village. [2] With this map, Boyer and Nissenbaum endeavored to demonstrate how specific geographic locations within Salem Village -- based primarily on economic and social differences -- led to the factionalism that ultimately divided Salem on the witchcraft issue. For roughly thirty years, Boyer and Nissenbaum’s work has served as the standard interpretation of the Salem Story.

In recent years, however, a number of scholars have come forward to challenge the interpretation offered in Salem Possessed. In 2002, renowned historian Mary Beth Norton published her book, In The Devil’s Snare, which served to challenge some of the assertions made by Boyer and Nissenbaum. As Norton states in the introduction of her book:

The influential "Salem Possessed" (1974), by Paul Boyer and Stephen Nissenbaum, attributes the crisis to long-standing political, economic, and religious discord among men of Salem Village, denying the significance of women’s prominence as both accused and accuser…In the Devil’s Snare contends that the dramatic events of 1692 can be fully understood only by viewing them as intricately related to concurrent political and military affairs in northern New England. [3]

In addition to Norton’s assertions, Prof. Ray points out that the traditional interpretation of the Upham map by Boyer and Nissenbaum is incomplete:

Contrary to Boyer and Nissenbaum’s conclusions in "Salem Possessed," geographic analysis of the accusations in the village shows there was no significant villagewide east-west division between accusers and accused in 1692. Nor was there an east-west divide between households of different economic status…

…Though is may appear that the "Salem Possessed" map carries the burden of the argument about the socioeconomic and geographic foundation of the witchcraft accusations, the map does not supply all the evidence…a total of thirteen accusers were omitted, this indicating that the map is incomplete and does not represent all the accusers. [4]

Prof. Ray continues his argument by pointing out the inherently complex nature of geographical data. In his analysis, Ray claims that the map data included in Salem Possessed was conveniently construed to fit Boyer and Nissenbaum’s claims:

Boyer and Nissenbaum placed an all-important east-west demarcation line at the center of their map without explaining its precise location. The lack of explanation is curious because positioning the line slightly to the west would have made a significant difference in the crowded center of the map, shifting several As (a marker used to identify the accused) to the eastern side of the village. [5]

The rest of Prof. Ray’s article goes on to point out various omissions made by Boyer and Nissenbaum in their interpretation of the Upham map. In addition, the article argues that a geographical interpretation that seeks to divide Salem Village socially or economically is inherently too restrictive, and that future inquiry “needs to be set as free of interpretive assumptions as possible if scholars are to have a solid geographic foundation for further historical research.” [6]

Though truly a pioneering work that defined the historiography of the Salem Witch Trials for decades, Paul Boyer and Stephen Nissenbaum’s Salem Possessed should at least be seen as an incomplete take on the Salem saga.


Notes:
[1] Paul Boyer and Stephen Nissenbaum, Salem Possessed: The Social Origins of Witchcraft (Cambridge, Mass., 1974).

[2] Charles Upham, Salem Witchcraft: With an Account of Salem Village and a History of Opinions on Witchcraft and Kindred Subjects, 2 vols. (Boston, Mass., 1867).

[3] Mary Beth Norton, In the Devil’s Snare: The Salem Witchcraft Crisis of 1692 (New York, 2002), 4-5.

[4] Benjamin C. Ray, “The Geography of Witchcraft Accusations in 1692 Salem Village,” in The William and Mary Quarterly, vol, LXV, no. 3, (July, 2008), 453.

[5] Ibid, 456.

[6] Ibid, 478.

Revisiting Salem: Part I

The Economics of Witchcraft
by Brad Hart

Over the past week I have had the wonderful opportunity of delving into the July, 2008 issue of the William and Mary Quarterly, which is almost exclusively dedicated to a reexamination of the Salem Witch Trials. Though the history surrounding Salem during the latter part of the 17th century has received an incredible amount of attention, I believe that anytime the “flagship” journal of early American history decides to revisit a topic, we would all do well to follow suit. With this in mind, I hope to dedicate the next couple of my posts on this blog to a review of the Salem historical record and the assessment offered by various historians on this topic in the WMQ.

As mentioned before, the history surrounding the Salem Witch Trials is one of the more popular events in all of American colonial history. Literally hundreds of books and articles have been written over the centuries, making 17th century Salem one of the most publicized events in our nation’s past. While this overabundance of scholarly literature may discourage some historians from engaging in a revision of the Salem saga, other devout students of early American history remain undeterred. As historian Richard Latner of Tulane University states:

The 1692 Salem witchcraft outbreak has had an enduring capacity for attracting popular and scholarly attention…Richly complex and layered, it is continuously amenable to fresh investigation. Thus, though the harvest of books and articles on Salem may deter researchers from this well-trodden terrain, ample rewards may result not only from formulating new interpretations but also from reexamining prevailing conceptualizations. [1]

It is this fresh perspective, a desire to challenge the traditional historiography of the Salem story, that demands our attention. For too long Salem and its witchcraft legacy have been oversimplified to the point that its participants are hardly recognized. The traditional Salem scholarship of the past, most of which portrays the witchcraft “outbreak” as a virtual plague centered in the Puritan “age of superstition,” causes us to see these early Puritans as quasi-madmen, bent on eradicating even the smallest trace of witchcraft.

In Richard Latner’s analysis of Salem, however, we are presented with a colonial society deeply divided by factionalism. During the 1690s, Salem was a community immersed in transition. The traditional covenant community based exclusively on a subsistence agricultural system was rapidly being replaced with the emerging forces of merchant capitalism. As a result, Salem’s population was thrown into a world of economic instability and transition. As Paul Boyer and Stephen Nissenbaum point out in their groundbreaking book, Salem Possessed, “the prosaic, everyday lives of obscure and inarticulate men and women…were being shaped by powerful forces of historical and economic change.” [2]

Due in part to these economic changes, the poorer segments of the Salem population found themselves in a state of financial instability. In addition, the ecclesiastical leaders of Salem, still awaiting a new royal charter from England, began to see their authority erode from underneath their feet. The increased level of factionalism between Salem Town and Salem Village – which had remained divided for decades – began to coalesce into rival economic segments of society. Contrary to popular belief, it was the witch-hunters, not the common citizen that were “in retreat” from the “oppressive” advances of those in Salem Town, where merchant capitalism was at its strongest.[3]

It was this internal division, argues Richard Latner that helped to create an atmosphere in which witchcraft accusations could flourish. The initial accusation of Reverend Samuel Parris’ daughter and niece are perfect case studies of how factionalism played out during the witch-hunt fiasco. The accusers, mostly consisting of paranoid clergymen bent on regaining their authority, preyed upon the economic plight of the poorer segment within Salem Village. As a result of their efforts, the overzealous clergy of Salem Town found all the support they would need to levy their accusations of witchcraft. As Christine Alice Young points out:

The powers of witches, were associated with mercantile activity within Salem Town, not the agricultural hinterland of Salem Village…it was impossible in seventeenth-century Massachusetts to simultaneously be a merchant and a leader of the orthodox, anticommercial party in colonial politics. [4]

With the backing of the economically downtrodden, Salem became a haven for radical accusation and religious over zealotry. The opposition, most of which was centered in Salem Town, found themselves virtually helpless against the “brainwashed” – intolerant is probably a more appropriate label -- masses of Salem Village.

While Latner’s economic explanations for Salem’s transgressions are convincing, it is important to remember that economics is but one of many factors that led to the witchcraft accusations of 17th century Salem. In the next few days, I hope to provide additional perspectives, the majority coming from the most recent edition of the William and Mary Quarterly, which I hope will provide an overall historical "landscape" of the Salem saga.

Notes:
[1] Richard Latner, “Salem Witchcraft, Factionalism, and Social Change Reconsidered: Were Salem’s Witch-Hunters Modernization’s Failures?” William and Mary Quarterly, vol. LXV, no. 3, Pp. 423.
[2] Paul Boyer and Stephen Nissenbaum, Salem Possessed: The Social Origins of Witchcraft (Cambridge, Mass., 1974), xii.
[3] Ibid, 425-426.
[4] Christine Alice Young, Good Order to Glorious Revolution: Salem, Massachusetts, 1628-1689 (Ann Arbor, Mi., 1980), 7.