Preparing for a voyage, 1620

sketch of a 17th-century ship

Imagine for a moment that you’re a pilgrim, about to embark on the Mayflower in 1620. What do you pack?

First off, you need provisions for the journey. Second, you need supplies to help you turn a vast wilderness into a home, including all the tools needed to build shelter, grow crops, and hunt for food. (Luckily, in your tight-knit Separatist community, you can share food and supplies.) Third, you need the tools of your trade, whether you’re a cordwainer, blacksmith, carpenter, or housewife. Fourth, you want to pack some creature comforts, such as furniture, bedding, clothes, books, and family heirlooms.

Gather all of these items, figure out that only a small percentage of what you need will fit in your allotted space aboard ship, pray that God will provide for you in the New World, and leave behind most of what you own and hold dear.

To put it in perspective, visit Plymouth Harbor, where the Mayflower II is docked. Built in 1957, this life-size replica of a typical 17^th century ship is only 106.5 feet long. The passengers lived on the lower deck, between the gun room and the anchor winches, above the cargo hold and below the steerage room. That’s tight quarters for 100 passengers and all their earthly possessions.

Then, after a perilous journey across the Atlantic Ocean and a devastating winter in which half the passengers and crew died, the Pilgrims settled a new colony where they were able to worship as they believed. And, despite the odds, they thrived.

Think about your ancestors and the hardships they endured. Then ask yourself: Do you have what it takes to step into their shoes, to face the obstacles and choices they made?

Portrait of a witch, 1692

"We all rose in the air on broomsticks,"
illustration by F.A. Carter,
in The Witch of Salem by John R. Musick (1893)

Generally, we think of witches as old hags, widows who lived on the outskirts of their community, often bad mannered and physically offensive. Some were known for healing powers, such as an herbalist or midwife, or one who brewed noxious remedies to inflict pain and suffering on others.

Yes, there were widows accused as witches in 1692, but so were young mothers and little girls. Men and boys were not exempt either. It’s difficult to create a profile of a witch because the accused ran the gamut from beggar to rich merchant, law-breaker to minister—and everything in between.

In the 17th century, many people believed in witches and witchcraft. Their ancestors lived through witch-hunts in the old country, where thousands of witches were burned at the stake. They learned from church sermons that the Devil was using witches to undermine the Puritan church. And they heard rumors of witches wreaking havoc in New England.

Accusations went flying. The accused lived in Salem Village (now Danvers), Salem Town, throughout Essex county, and even in Maine. Some were very well known in the neighborhood, others weren’t known or even recognized by their accusers.

Since not all the Salem court documents still exist, it’s difficult to even account for how many people were accused; about 150 were imprisoned, 19 hanged, one crushed to death, and at least five died in prison.

To learn more, check out the Salem Witch Trials: Documentary Archive and Transcription Project (University of Virginia) or the Famous American Trials: Salem Witchcraft Trials 1692 (by the University of Missouri-Kansas City School of Law). Both sites include 17th-century court records and historic maps.

Salem recreates the 1692 witch hysteria

For centuries, Salem, Massachusetts, has been trying to forget the 1692 witch hunts. All the old buildings associated with the victims of the witch-hunt have been torn down—the court rooms, the meeting-house, the jail. Only the so-called Witch House remains, though its only claim to the title is that Judge Jonathan Corwin (1640-1718) lived there while he served on the Court of Oyer and Terminer in 1692.

Even the men and women who were hanged have no final resting place so marked. Condemned as witches, they were buried near the place of their hanging. Most of their families, however, snuck the dead bodies from the rocks in which they were tossed and gave them a final resting place—in an unmarked grave.

Torn down, disintegrated, obliterated. It wasn’t until the mid 1950s, when Arthur Miller’s The Crucible redefined all that “witch-hunt” could encompass, that the city’s outlook started to change. By 1970, Salem was endorsed by new age witches as well as TV witches. People started looking for history, and Salem remade it, in its many "museums" and storefronts.

Today, you can walk along Essex Street or Pickering Wharf and encounter witches by the dozens. You’ll hear mutterings of Bridget Bishop in the streets. You can touch the beam from the original jail—one of the few artifacts that survived—at the Witch Dungeon Museum. You can see vignettes of 1692 events at the Wax Museum of Witches & Seafarers, the Witch History Museum, or the Salem Witch Museum. 

What rises above the din of tourist attractions, though, are the voices of the dead. Despite the destruction of many witch trial documents, the ones that exist are so poignant, so telling. Luckily, the words are kept alive in Salem, in the many portrayals of these innocent victims of the 1692 witch hunt.

And that's why I find myself in Salem almost every October on a pilgrimage to the past.

Keeping the witch trials in perspective

Last year on a trolley tour of Salem, Massachusetts, the conductor plied us with stories as we traveled the old streets, from Roger Conant founding the city in 1626 to the great age of ships. It’s a fascinating place with great houses, literary figures, and maritime history. But flocks of tourists really visit Salem for its connection with the 1692 witch trials. That’s why they’re on the trolley in the first place, to go from the Salem Witch Museum and the Witch Dungeon Museum to the Witch Trials Memorial and everything in between.

Yet our conductor, who claimed descent from several hanged witches, wanted to downplay the prevalent theme of the Witch City. He wanted to put history in perspective and so he reminded us tourists that, after all, the witch hysteria only lasted for six months. Six months? Sure, if you’re counting first arrest to last hanging—but not including final trials and prisoner releases. It took years for the witch hysteria to build to a crescendo and the after-effects had long-lasting results.

In the last 300 years, we still haven’t figured out why 20 innocent people were killed. Whatever it was—the devil, oppression of women, fermented rye seed, Indian war fears, interpersonal relationships, struggles over land acquisition, political stress, bad weather, poor crops, or God’s punishment—that brought Salem and the other villages to that bubbling pot of toil and trouble, did not end abruptly after Governor Phips dissolved the Court of Oyer and Terminer.

Even after the trials were over, accused witches rotted in jail cells, waiting for their families to pay their bills. Lydia Dustin, in fact, died in the spring of 1693 while awaiting money for her release. The effects of confinement, meager food, poor sanitation, and infection, drove some, such as Mary English, to an early death. Others—such as the youngest victim, Dorothy Good—were never capable of taking care of themselves again.

Some, such as Anne Putnam Jr. and Judge Samuel Sewall, were weighted down with guilt for their part in sending innocent people to their deaths. Others who were accused abandoned their homes, their livelihoods, their friends and relatives, to start again someplace else. Some people continued to live next to neighbors still suspicious of them.

That doesn’t even begin to touch on the grief of those who mourned their mother, father, husband, wife, daughter, son, brother, sister, cousin, aunt, uncle, grandparent, or friend who was ignobly hanged as a witch.

The reverberations of 1692 spread far and wide. If your ancestors lived in 17^th century New England, no doubt in some way large or small they were affected by the Salem witch hunt.

Top 10 marketing tips for publishing your genealogy

Spread the word about your publication!

Now that you've published your book, you need to find ways to reach the people who want to read it. Try these marketing ideas:

• Let your relatives know about your book or article and where they can get a copy. Mention it in your letters, holiday cards, and family newsletter.
• Include book details in your email signature line.
• Send review copies to genealogical magazines and journals; local and state genealogical and historical societies (in areas where your subjects lived); and other societies where you are a member. You may get free publicity, plus a critique that will improve your second edition.
• Send your book to local libraries and societies; the National Genealogical Society, the Family History Library in Salt Lake City, the Library of Congress; and membership societies. Researchers may find your book on the shelf and want to order their own copies.
• If you have a personal or genealogy-based web site, announce your achievement and tell people how they can order copies.
• If you belong to appropriate surname and location email list groups, check with the list owner about mentioning your publication to the group. Or, you could post a general note asking members if they're interested in your line to contact you.
• Post your book title and ordering information on surname and location genealogy boards.
• If you've written a how-to-research, a local history, or a record transcriptions book, see if bookstores would be interested in holding a book signing event.
• Advertise your book for sale in appropriate genealogical and historical magazines and journals.
• Rent booth space at local, regional, and/or national genealogy conferences and sell your books there.

Pirates in your past?

The lure of the sea and the treasure troves of pirates spark the imaginations of people of all ages. So it’s no surprise that when I discovered my great-grandmother was a Kidd, I wondered if we were related, however remotely, to the infamous Captain Kidd (1654?-1701). Online, I saw other people named Kidd claiming descent from William Kidd, even though he had no sons to carry on the family name.

If you’re interested in 17th century seafaring, I recommend reading The Pirate Hunter : The True Story of Captain Kidd by Richard Zacks. This nonfiction book reads like a thrilling action-adventure novel. In it, you’ll learn that Captain Kidd was commissioned by Royal Governor Bellomont as a pirate hunter to capture the infamous Blackbeard who terrorized the New England coast. In 1699, Kidd traveled to Boston to meet with Lord Bellomont to discuss his high seas exploits and trumped up charges of piracy, only to be arrested and later hanged for piracy himself.

Flying the Jolly Roger

Piracy in the New World existed almost from the time of the first settlements. New England’s first pirate, a former fur trader named Dixie Bull, turned to piracy after French pirates plundered his provisions. After a decade of piracy, Bull eluded his would-be captors and disappeared in 1633.

You’ll hear his story and other seadog tales at the New England Pirate Museum in Salem, Massachusetts. As you take the 25-minute walking tour through a dimly lit colonial seaport, board a “ship,” and meander through a dark cave at the museum, you’ll see vignettes of life at sea, bloody battles, and pirates dividing the booty, from the high-spirited life of treasure seekers to their grim endings. Led by a swashbuckling tour guide, you’ll learn facts about local pirates and legendary scourges of the sea such as Blackbeard (a.k.a. Edward Teach), Thomas Tew, Ned Low, Thomas Veal, Joe Brodish, and Jack Quelch. You’ll also hear secrets about treasure buried in the Lynn woods and along the New England shoreline, still waiting to be found. (Note: This is more of an attraction—on par with other Salem attractions—and not exactly a museum.)

Treasures Found

One successful pirate, “Black Sam” Bellamy, sailed the Whyah galley to Massachusetts to show his ladylove his fully laden prize ship only to have it sink during a storm in 1717, along with himself and most of his crew. In 1984, underwater explorer Barry Clifford discovered the shipwreck off Cape Cod. The treasures recovered from the wreck are found at the Expedition Whydah Sea Lab in Provincetown, Massachusetts. Besides coins, jewels, and treasures Bellamy looted from more than 50 ships and transported on the Whydah’s final voyage, you’ll see clothing, pistols, cannons, and utensils that the pirates used. Ongoing excavation of the site, located deep in the sand less than half a mile from the shore, continues, which means that during the summer months you may see treasures being hauled from the salvage boats.

The Skull and Crossbones

Although captured in Boston, Kidd was hanged in London. It wasn’t until 1704 that the first pirate, Jack Quelch, was hanged in Boston. But he wasn’t the last. In the Boston Harbor, you’ll see a black-and-white beacon on Nix’s Mate, once a 12-acre island that has since washed away and turned into a shoal. It was here that the corpse of executed pirate William Fly and two other pirates were chained to the island as a warning to other pirates. Not everyone got the hint. Barmaid-turned-pirate Rachel Wall used her feminine wiles to lure unsuspecting ships to “rescue” her, while her husband George and his crew killed the would-be rescuers and stole their valuables. At her hanging in 1789, Rachel confessed to being a pirate, the only known female pirate in New England.

Skeletons in Your Closet?

Although my Kidd line does not descend from the Captain, it’s quite possible that my numerous sea-going ancestors encountered pirates along their shipping routes. And it’s quite possible to have a pirate in your past. After all, Blackbeard and his 14 wives did have 40 children!

Top 10 reasons to publish your genealogy on paper

Why should I print my genealogy research on paper (in manuscript form, in a magazine or journal, or as a book) when there are so many easier and cheaper ways to go?

• Technology is ever changing. Your computer files and multimedia formats may not be accessible in the future.
• Web addresses and Internet Service Providers change, making it more difficult to find your material. Search engines cannot keep up with the number of web sites in existence.
• Databases such as Ancestral File and World Family Tree may be good for clues, but are not necessarily reliable. Many of these databases do not cite sources, one of the critical keys to good research.
• Name collectors—people who download GEDCOM files and merge them with their genealogy databases without checking sources or verifying data—may graft your online tree onto their own unpruned database and then spread misinformation to others, many times over.
• Facts—such as names, dates, and places—cannot be copyrighted but books and articles are.
• Researchers are more likely to quote from articles and books with proper citations (especially compared to web publishing and database file exchanges), giving you credit where credit is due.
• Your article or book is accessible through libraries and interlibrary loans. (Make sure a copy of your book goes to the Library of Congress, the Family History Library in Salt Lake City, and other genealogical/historical and local libraries as appropriate.)
• Unlike memory books and scrapbooks, you can have more than one copy.
• Paper has been around for hundreds of years.
• You'll have something tangible to pass on to future generations.
• You can read it in bed.

Okay, eleven.