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Seeking Justice for a Hanged Witch

Adelaide Avery is a young girl on a mission to obtain a posthumous pardon for her ancestress, who was hanged as a witch.

Mary Sanford was executed in Connecticut in 1662, accused of participating in Satan-worshipping rituals involving wine and a bonfire. Curiously, her name does not appear in the Espy file, generally considered the most thorough and all-encompassing roll of names of the executed in the United States. One historian who delved deeply into the records says there was some doubt about her fate. (For more on Connecticut's witch hunts, see Hartford's Witches.)

As her descendant, young Addie, recently told a Connecticut legislative committee: "This isn't something that just happened 350 years ago in some far-off place that doesn't relate to us whatsoever. The Witchcraft Trials happened right in Hartford and the surrounding areas, which are the founding cornerstones of the State of Connecticut. Whether or not the society at the time believed that this was right or wrong, or whether it was legal or illegal, we know now it was so wrong. I think this would be a great acknowledgement towards our past if we let it be known that present and future people of Connecticut realize that these people who were hanged were wrongly convicted."

The New York Times takes her campaign seriously, but some mock the effort. The snide commentary comes from far right-wing bloggers already troubled by requests that the government apologize for other egregious errors such as slavery, lynching, and the WWII internments of Japanese-Americans. Unbeknownst to the young Connecticut girl, she has touched a nerve already quite raw. 

One essayist remarked that Addie Avery owes the public an apology.

Said another anti-ACLU blogger: "You’d be excused if you just rolled your eyes at the silliness of it all and you’d also be exhibiting the proper reaction to the whole business.... I see no reason to apologize... for something that hasn’t happened to anyone else for 300 years. "

The trouble, of course, is that it has happened to other "Satan worshippers" since then.

Does anyone care to take a guess when the last woman was arrested and/or convicted of witchcraft in the English-speaking world? (Take a guess.) The last witch convicted in the UK was Helen Duncan, who died in 1956 while in custody following her second arrest. For details, see The Mirror. The last female arrested in the US for witchcraft (as far as I can find, in a quick search) was in 1950 in Delaware.

And, as a matter of fact, a man was convicted of  a Satanic murder two years ago in Ohio. A chief witness against him: an ordained exorcist who told the jury the murder was an occult ritual.

Do you, high-minded, educated, all-knowing, modern ladies and gentlemen, do you think there will never be another groundless arrest and conviction for witchcraft or Satanry or devil-worship in the United States ever again?!

Then explain Father Robinson's case to me!

True Crime to Avoid, and Witchcraft links

Burning_1 You’ll forgive me if I say that there are some crime stories that are better in fiction. Oh~! Did I type that? Will I not delete that? Some subjects are too painful otherwise. For me, the four subjects I cannot tolerate in true crime are (a) stories of witch hunts and the exterminations of women, (b) stories of the slaughter of small children, (c) the Holocaust, and (d) racial mass murders and lynchings in the Civil Rights era. I’m no longer interested in non-fiction reading in any of these sub-subjects, not even to enjoy as history. They’re too godawful depressing.

It’s my guess that every true crime aficionado has things they can’t tolerate while the next true crime nut stands hypnotized. Do you avoid some subjects? Are there things you used to study that you’ve turned from? It seems everyone’s lists change over time. A story of a small child cruelly slaughtered didn’t make me blink until my own two darlings came along. Maybe we outgrow some things, too. I vaguely recall doing a lot of reading about witchcraft, witch hunts, and the Salem trials when I was a teenager, along with a lot of other girls fumbling their way through adolescence while studying the historical limits on female knowledge and behavior.

Long ago, I came across an impressive list of links about witches and witchcraft from the DMOZ Open Directory Project, Social_History / Oppression_and_Intolerance / Witch_Hunts. Some of these are excellent stories with good endings. Others are like the listening to the BBC World News Hour on the radio : they make me want to jump from the roof, -and without the broom. Maybe you’ll appreciate them more than I can right now. Maybe when I’m old I’ll wear purple robes and long earrings and give lectures on the Great Burnings.

A Scholarly Tale of Witchcraft

I enjoy stories in which the heroes are scholars, like The Historian and Da Vinci Code and Angels & Demons and Harry Potter. So I thoroughly enjoyed The Tale of Mary Ingelman, the First Witch of Winnsboro.

The first-person tale by Will Kale begins when the author visited a local history museum in South Carolina and was shown some articles about a woman, Mary Ingelman, who was accused of being a witch, found guilty, and tortured. The punishment took place in South Carolina in 1792 -- a full century after the Salem witch trials.

The discovery of this forgotten trial is really noteworthy. There's nothing else on the internet about it (although the story already appears to have been plagiarized in more than one place).

"Now I wonder," remarks the writer, "how many other 'witch' trials have been held in our country, hidden away and not talked about."

The story of what happened to Mary Ingelman, the untold and yet all-too-familiar fate of the old German immigrant woman who healed the sick, apparently hasn't seen print in generations, and the details on the website are intriguing. I think it would make an excellent book.

Indeed, there may be quite a few books out there waiting to be written, bloody stories of sorcery and retribution and the suppression of botanical and medical and feminine knowledge, the evidence buried in the time-encrusted vaults of local museums and historical societies.

(Via)

The Wizard of Hoboken

He was tall, blond, 40, and easy on the eye. He was once a Baptist minister, but then he “discovered his powers.” And he had the exquisitely inappropriate name Christian Christensen.

In 1914, he was also the proprietor of “The Psychological Research Society” which was headquartered in downtown Hoboken, New Jersey. And here, he made demonstrations of his ability to talk to the dead. 

Mr. Christensen attracted an ever-increasing flock, to the point that he moved his lectures to the Odd Fellows Hall. That turned out to be a ghastly error, as the local police began to attend. The policemen recognized him, as he’d given a lecture in Hoboken the year before – on exposing the tricks of mediums.

The policemen stood in the middle of Mr. Christensen’s lecture. “That’ll be about enough. Just get your hat and coat and come down to headquarters with us.”

An uproar followed the popular seer straight into the courthouse when the local prosecutor dusted off the oldest books in the law library and charged Christian Christensen with “teaching and practicing witchcraft.” An estimated forty women crammed the courtroom to testify to his psychic powers and to warn officials of the dire consequences of meddling with him.

The curtain closes on this courtroom drama here, as I could not find an article that mentions the sentence imposed by the court. Presumably Mr. Chrisensen stopped talking to the dead in public. Something about the story suggests his private behavior changed little.

From the Washington Post, Jan. 9, 1914: “Jailed As A Wizard; Women Plead for Ex-Minister Accused of Witchcraft.”

The Very Naughty Madame Dis De Bar

Many careless people of prior centuries have been of a mind to believe that clairvoyants were innocuous swindlers whose only victims were the harebrained girls who consulted them on questions of love. Those who heard stories of famous mediums often shrugged and cited the old maxim about the high birth rate of suckers. But a far more insidious species of spiritualist occasionally made herself plainly known, and none were more criminal or more infamous than Madame Dis De Bar, as she occasionally called herself. In every city it was remarked, as in the Atlanta Constitution, that “nobody knew from whence she came and nobody knew whither she departed when she did depart. But while she was here the people saw and heard a great deal of her.” In cities throughout North America and from London to Cape Town, the world-renowned Madame of Many Names popped up like a bad strain of flu, corrupting the morals and wallets of the many dupes to be found there.

The headlines date back to at least 1879, when the principal city of Georgia was in the midst of a religious revival, and “a magnificent looking woman of the brunette type of beauty” who called herself “Princess Editha” and claimed to be the illegitimate daughter of King Ludwig of Bavaria expressed her brilliant mind in lectures about spiritualism and the dangers of Catholicism. She made regular demonstrations of her gift of prophecy, predicting on many occasions that she was soon to come into a fortune, which was generally the case, though the purpose of sharing this news was to beat her bills, and she eventually disappeared from Atlanta altogether.

She next appeared as “Madame Messout” in Parkersburg, West Virginia, and Cincinnati, Ohio, where she repeated her speeches and swindles with the usual effect. In 1893, as “Vera Ava,” she set up her practice in Geneva, Illinois, where she was unmolested by policemen or conscience until found guilty of defrauding one victim of $750.

But nowhere did she make as grand a presentation as in New York City, where she adopted the name “Anne O’Delia Dis De Bar,” and where, with the assistance of an artiste named Mr. Dis De Bar of equally dubious origin she set up a business of “materialization” called the “Mahatma Institute.” She also unscrupulously exposed the other charlatans in the business, once remarking, “I have attended the seances of this man Archer, and they are the cheapest kind of a fraud. The spirits that he produces in his dark séances are no other than himself togged out in raiment smeared with phosphorous.” Among her wealthy New York clients were many society matrons and one particularly gullible elderly lawyer. The law caught up to her again in the Big Apple, where she served six months for swindling in 1888, and many prominent persons were embarrassed to be associated with the psychic who took the lawyer for a reported $300,000.

From New York she went to New Orleans, where, as “Editha Loleta Jackson,” she was expelled by authorities in 1899 after being accused of “procuring young girls ostensibly for her fantastic religion but really for the purpose of their ruin.” The Madame next made an appearance in London, where she opened the “New Era” sect in Kent and reportedly made off with 400 pounds.

The hard-hearted skeptics of Scotland Yard exposed her “religion” for what it truly was to spectacular tabloid effect. Haled to the Old Bailey, the “Swamie, Princess of Theocratic Unity” or “Laura Jackson” (perhaps her true name) and her husband Theodore (perhaps his) were made to answer to charges of fraud and immoral practices. The former involved wealthy older clients, while the latter involved young and beautiful women, and it seems that the Swamie acted as procuress for the ravenous appetite of her supposed husband. The newspapers couldn’t quite bring themselves to describe these corrupting practices carried on by both defendants acting in concert, though the judge provided hints in labeling them “revolting,” “abominable,” “filthy acts” and “unspeakable offenses” performed “under the cloak of religion.” When one reads between the lines one might be reminded of a scene from Candy; those who don’t know the reference will have to use their imaginations. The jury found them guilty in less than five minutes and they both served prison terms.

South Africa was her next home, where she dubbed herself “Helena Horos” of the “College of Occult Sciences,” and where she converted young ladies into hands-on healers for the wealthy clients of the institute. After a customarily brief stay, she opened a “fruitarian colony” in Florida, performing similar occult cures. Then she made a whirlwind tour of Windsor and Detroit in 1907, where she was known as “Mother Elinor,” or Mrs. Elinor L. Mason, or “Queen of the House of Israel of Windsor and Detroit,” or the “Queen of the Flying Rollers.” She was also known as the possessor of certain items of jewelry that did not belong to her.

Similar stories were heard from Montreal, Quebec, Paris, and many cities between, but the common refrain grows wearisome in repetition. Suffice it to say that she passed to the other side during World War I—and hopefully remains firmly installed there.

Sources:

“Princess Editha; How Mme. Dis De Bar Figured in Atlanta. A Handsome Adventuress—The Bills She Left Behind Her—The Great New York Spiritualist,” Atlanta Constitution, April 13, 1888.

“Dis De Bar in New Role. The Notorious Woman Swindler as ‘Queen of the House of Israel’ Disappears from Detroit,” Oskosh Daily Northwestern, March 29, 1907.

“The Dis De Bar Trial,” Lincoln Evening News, March 23, 1893.

“Spook Priestess Breaks Suddenly Into High Society; Discovery of Black Sheep in Their Midst Causes Commotion in Gathering,” Correctionville News, May 5, 1910.

“Diss de Bar Guilty; A Verdict Rendered at Noon Today,” Oshkosh Daily Northwestern, June 16, 1888.

“Dis de Bar in Cape Town; Practicing ‘Occultism’ on the Unsuspecting in South Africa,” Portsmouth (New Hampshire) Herald, Nov. 30, 1900

“Herald vs. Spiritualists,” Middletown Daily Press, Feb. 2-1891

“The Spirit Picture Painter’s Victim,”Olean (New York) Democrat, May 10, 1888.

Spirithistory.com - "Spirit Brides and Rag Babies."

Wizards in Wisconsin?

It's a sure-fire recipe for a mischief potion: start with a drought. Add some superstitious farmers. Spice with a visiting spiritualist, and voila: madness and magic.

In Janesville, Wisconsin, in the fall of 1930, the farmers were frightened. Their cows were running dry. Crops dwindled. The apple crop failed. The weather was an obvious cause--a long dry spell had devastated the area. But the farmers of Leyden Township searched for spiritual answers, so they called in a spiritualist.

Herman Engelhardt of nearby Rockford, Illinois, came to town and conducted a seance. And the spirit world provided the answer: the culprit was an ally of the devil named Henry Dorn.

Mr. Dorn, an innocuous 64-year-old man who lived nearby with his sister, was clearly the one who'd been casting spells of sickness, along with his colleague in Satanry, William Kluxmeyer, who was casting spells over hogs and cattle. This was no light accusation in Wisconsin. Just two years before, a farmer and his wife living near Ladysmith learned that their neighbor had bewitched their cattle and cursed their children, and the farmer shot and killed his evil neighbor. So old Mr. Dorn got off lightly when he was merely driven out of the area.

But Mr. Dorn complained of his ill treatment and declared that he was innocent of the charge of wizardry, so the authorities came to investigate the evil genius. Not Mr. Dorn, but the spiritualist. During a two-day John Doe hearing, the Rock County assistant district attorney investigated the doings of Mr. Engelhardt and issued a warrant for the spiritualist's arrest. They didn't expect him to be extradicted from Illinois, they said; "we just want to keep him out of Wisconsin. As far as we're concerned, he can produce all the wizards he wishes if he keeps them out of this state."

And thus Wisconsin was officially declared wizard-free.

Sources:

"Warrant is Out for Spiritualist's Arrest," Ironwood (Michigan) Daily Globe, Oct. 10, 1930.

"They Believe in Witchcraft," Reno Evening Gazette, Oct. 10, 1930.

"Life in Asylum for LadySmith Murderer," Wisconsin Rapids Daily Tribune, Nov. 13, 1928.

The Witchcraft Trial of Bridget Cleary

Long ago, in County Tipperary, Ireland, Bridget Cleary was put on trial for being a changeling. The judge was her husband; the jurors were her father, cousins, and neighbors. After nine days of ritualized torture, they concluded that 26-year-old Bridget was indeed the victim of fairies and her spirit had been abducted. A priest was called in to give her last rites, and she was burned to death in the fireplace.

What makes this story amazing is that it took place in eighteen ninety-four.

How on earth could this happen? How on earth, in 1894, could a dozen people who knew Bridget Cleary be so steeped in the "old religion" that they would do this to the poor woman?

To understand what happened to Mrs. Cleary, you have to understand her. Bridget was described as intelligent, of high spirits, and maybe more than a little weird. She was barren, for one thing, despite several years of marriage, and she perhaps too much enjoyed the freedom that childlessness afforded. Bridget was also interested in the old pagan faith and visited ancient sites. She may have carried on an extramarital affair. Her husband had a personality to match and a fierce belief in banshees, goblins, ghosts and fairies, to the point that he believed his mother's old tale that the fairies had abducted her for three days. Michael Cleary was petrified of his wife's activities and perhaps jealous and threatened. His repeated warnings to her to stop visiting "those places" went unheeded. So when she fell ill, perhaps with pneumonia, after one of these not-so-surreptitious visits, her husband and family decided it was time for an exorcism, and they grew more and more convinced over the ensuing days and sleepless nights that she was indeed possessed of an evil spirit. And perhaps Bridget believed it herself.

After she died, her family made an effort to cover up the crime, but her badly burned and battered body was found in a shallow grave. Nine people went to prison for their roles in her death, including her husband, who served 15 years for manslaughter.

Bridget Cleary's death made headlines throughout the world, but nowhere more so than in London, where many were shocked that pagan beliefs still held such a strong grip in Tipperary. The sensational case became a political weapon in the hands of the British, who pointed to Bridget's fate as a reason to keep Home Rule from the "backward" Irish.

A couple of recent books delve into the case and the historical backdrop and consequences for the beleaguered people of Ireland. The Cooper's Wife is Missing by Joan Hoff and Marian Yeates (New York: Basic Books, 2000) and The Burning of Bridget Cleary by Angela Bourke (Viking, 2000) both emphasize Irish culture and history in explaining the bizarre case. [An aside: one day perhaps someone will solve the mystery of why it is so often that two books come out at the same time about one old interesting case. Can someone explain this twinning to me?]

To this day, one can hear in southern County Tipperary an old child's rhyme:

Are you a witch? Are you a fairy?

Are you the wife of Michael Cleary?

Sources

"Burning a Witch. Cloneen, Ireland, the Scene of an Awful Tragedy," The New York Sun, reprinted in The Newark Daily Advocate, April 15, 1895.

"A Wife Murderer Sentenced. Burned His Wife in the Presence of Her Father and Relatives," by the United Press, i.e. Williamsport (Pennsylvania) Daily Gazette and Bulletin, July 6, 1895.

***

UPDATE: Since I wrote this post in June 2005, I've seen a huge number of hits from people searching for Bridget Cleary on Google.co.uk. I get the impression there must be a documentary broadcast about the murder. Would some Clews visitor kindly advise where you're hearing about the case?

***

To buy the book from Amazon.com:

The Esquimaux Lady

Krarer_2

"Despite the very disagreeable weather a splended audience filled the opera house Friday evening to listen to the little Esquiman, Miss Olof Krarer, in her graphic though simple description of life in Greenland... curiosity as to her manner and appearance entered in no small degree into her success here as elsewhere... [she had] well rounded arms upon which, as also upon her hands, one caught the flash of gems whose presence and unmistakable geniuneness denote that she is reaping her reward out of the curious ones who throng to hear her... [she] was frequently interrupted by applause."

--The Sandusky (Ohio) Daily Register, Feb. 12, 1890

I have to stretch the boundaries of my blog a bit to tell this tale; luckily, I have a lenient editor.

I was poking around in the curio-filled basement of my old farmhouse when I came upon a big pile of musty old textbooks. One of them was Geography by the Brace System by John F. Wicks (Chicago: Flanagan Publishers, 1892). I read through the book and was amazed that anyone would be so heartless as to foist this tome upon young children. It is filled with tiresome facts such as: “There are four hundred and thirteen species of trees to be found within the limits of the United States, sixteen of which, when perfectly seasoned, will sink in water.” And the lesson plans are something else. An example: “Describe a coal mine. Take your pupils and visit one, and, experience proves, that it will be one of the pleasant and never to be forgotten lessons.”

I kept flipping the pages and came upon a story that made my eyes widen. It seems the author attended a very interesting talk of Miss Olof Krarer, an “Esquimaux” or “Mongolian” from the polar regions. She was only forty inches tall but was a striking figure nonetheless. In her lecture, Miss Krarer described life in Greenland, and the account was horrifying.

“They never cook anything, but eat raw, frozen, saltless meat and blubber, oil and blood… the children have no playthings and are not allowed to play or make any noise. Their parents command them to sit down and point out a place on the floor, and there they sit shivering until permission is given them to rise. From the constant habit of folding the arms to keep themselves warm, their arms are bowed at the elbows… If they are naughty their parents do not whip them, but instead put a piece of whalebone into the fire, and heat it until the fat begins to sizzle. Then they brand them with it, never, however, on the face. It is a cruel punishment, and, of course, very much dreaded. Miss Krarer still carries a mark made in this way…”

“When a man wants a wife, he steals her from her home. If he is caught her parents kill him… They do not talk much, having very little to talk about, and almost no ideas… Oh, but it is a dreary land, nothing but snow and ice on every side! … They have no heat but what the body gives. Such agony as they endure from the bitter cold we can form no idea of whatsoever. They have absolutely no water, never wash themselves, and never drink anything… in fact the only attention paid to the body is an occasional oiling.”

Ms. Krarer also told a captivating story of her escape from Greenland with a party of shipwrecked sailors, making her way 1,000 miles south to Iceland. Upon her arrival, “she was a very black, dirty, repulsive object and the kind people gave her some soap to wash herself with. But not understanding its use she put it into her mouth.” From there, she traveled to Manitoba and then began her tour of the United States.

Some account, eh? Hard to believe? Not to an American audience of the time, not even the university audiences. They took it hook, line, and sinker. For Olof Krarer was not an “Esquimaux.” She wasn’t even from Greenland. She was a dwarf from Iceland, and her entire North American tour was a fabulous hoax.

After poking around on the web, I learned that a U C Santa Barbara Anthropology Professor, Inga Dora Bjornsdottir, has written a book about Olof Krarer. It was released in Icelandic in November 2004, but it is not yet printed in English. Would somebody please publish this fascinating story in a language I can read?

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