Escaping Salem

As the weeks passed, Jonathan Selleck became increasingly anxious about the threat not just to Kate but to the whole of Stamford. He and his fellow magistrates, having borne witness to witch panics in Hartford in the 1660s, knew how quickly a witch hunt could spiral out of control—and how difficult it could be to legislate an “invisible crime.” Many of the women tried in Hartford were later pardoned or acquitted due to insufficient evidence, and thus a sketchy precedent for legislating crimes of witchcraft was in place throughout Connecticut. The public had little faith in a legal system that could not protect citizens from alleged witches.

Selleck knew that in addition to the thorny legal process of trying an accused witch, many people in Stamford saw Kate as untrustworthy. Abigail Wescot herself expressed concern over the intensity of her husband’s investment in Kate’s ordeal and his unconditional belief in her statements. Many townsfolk began to suspect that Daniel himself was encouraging Kate to name and accuse certain people. And even if Kate was truly bewitched, many townsfolk believed the Devil to work through trickery—they wondered if the specters Kate claimed to see were really who they seemed to be, or whether Satan was deliberately running certain women’s names through the mud. Obtaining hard evidence in such a strange case, Godbeer points out, was nearly impossible.

Goody Miller fled to Bedford, New York to live with her brothers, two prominent members of their community, as soon as she was accused. The Stamford courts could not touch her there, and the community in Bedford refused to extradite her. Meanwhile, Connecticut’s assembly, following the example set in Salem, assembled a special court to adjudicate the cases against the five other women Kate had named: Elizabeth Clawson, Mercy Disborough, Mary Staples, Mary Harvey, and Hannah Harvey. The fates of these women now rested not in the hands of Selleck or the Stamford magistrates, but of the members of this special court. 

In September, the court began hearing testimony against Mary Staples, Mary Harvey, and Hannah Harvey. Only two witnesses came forward. Their testimony was deemed insufficient evidence, and in the middle of the month, the three women were acquitted and set free. The court then turned their attentions to Goody Clawson and Goody Disborough.

Many people—including prominent Stamford citizens such as Sarah Bates and Jonathan Bell (another magistrate)—signed a petition in support of Goody Clawson. Other neighbors, however, came forward with testimony against the women, claiming that in the wake of quarrels with both Goody Clawson and Goody Disborough, illness and misfortune had befallen them. Goody Clawson and Goody Disborough were both deeply indignant about the testimony against them and, in private conversations, expressed their anger and frustration. After Daniel Wescot visited Goody Clawson in jail, Kate’s fits worsened—and Daniel’s youngest daughter fell out of her bed one evening.

In jail, Mercy Disborough experienced torments and sleepless nights herself. She confided in her jailer that she believed the Devil was after her—but her jailer only took this as further evidence that Mercy was damned. He relayed his testimony to the court. The testimony against both women piled up, and soon, there was enough evidence to send them to formal trials. Both women asserted their innocence, knowing that if they were found guilty at trial, they would be hanged. Yet again, as the court prepared for the formal trial, the magistrates judging the women’s cases found themselves uncertain of how to establish proof, motive, and guilt in a case concerning the occult and the unseen. As far as the women’s accusers were concerned, however, there was already enough evidence against them.