By Meg Szydlik, Visitor Services Coordinator

As Halloween approaches and the air becomes colder, I find my mind turning to all things spooky and supernatural, including witches. Witches in Massachusetts have a long and storied history, though up until recently it was not a happy one. While Salem, for example, is home to a lot of self-proclaimed witches nowadays, the 1690s witch-related history is pretty ugly. You can learn more about the connections between the MHS and the Salem Witch Trials in this podcast.

While the Salem Witch Trials are an especially famous example of New England’s hostility towards those suspected of consorting with the devil, witch hunts were not unique to the region. In fact, Europeans were having witch trials back in the medieval period. They brought those ideas and fears with them across the Atlantic along with physical copies of books they used to help identify and prosecute witches. Books with titles so long they are not fully written out in our catalogue like A collection of modern relations of matter of fact, concerning witches & witchcraft upon the persons of people… and The infallible trve and assvred vvitch haunt the stacks. I took a look at one specific book called A compleat history of magick, sorcery, and witchcraft… and learned a lot about these supposed witches.

According to A compleat history, women are far more likely to be witches because they are more frail than men, but also “partly because they are more inclined to revenge (15).” I confess that while I expected the frailty argument, much as I disagree with it, the revenge argument startled me a bit! While many stories portray witches as vengeful, I had never heard the reasoning that women are inherently more revenge driven. Truthfully, given the way women are treated, if revenge was the reason women become witches, I’m surprised there weren’t more!

While women were most commonly accused of being witches, men could be as well. In the Salem Witch Trials, for example, 5 men were hanged for witchcraft along with 14 women. A compleat history provides modern, rock-solid methods to prove that someone is a witch: find their Mark (where the devil allegedly marked those who served him) or see if they float in water since “God having ordained, that such as had cast off the Water of Baptism should not be received into Water, but swim upon it (23).” Different books advise different things, of course, and every trial has their own specific rules. There is a clear desire in this guidebook to demonstrate that the witches in their case studies are causing actual harm and “fits” through the spirit realm. Reading it with modern eyes, I can see how it would be persuasive in a world where these types of beliefs were normal and there were no other clear explanations for the behaviors.

Witchcraft is such a fascinating subject because it taps into a view of reality that we simply do not have today in 2023. As a society, we do not believe that people can encounter the devil and do supernatural harm that can be pursued in court. While things like spirits and vampires are definitely still common in pop culture, they are not part of the legal understanding of the world. A huge shift from a world in which respected community leaders decided if spectral evidence was admissible in court. Today, witches still exist, but they are no longer seen as people who have relations with the devil. Instead, Wicca and other religious traditions embrace the title “witch” with a very different spin, one where they are hopefully not the target of state-sanctioned violence.

 By Emily Petermann, Library Assistant

Lots of important events happen in the month of October: Halloween, National Chocolate Day, John Adams’ 288th birthday, and . . . American Archives Month! For today’s blog post we’re celebrating American Archives Month and embracing the spookiness of Halloween by investigating what haunts the hallowed halls (and librarians) of the MHS. 

Redrum….rot? 

For years, employees have walked through seemingly endless rows of shelving that make up the storage in the MHS building; rows that are stacked nearly floor to ceiling with boxes, with call slips to mark removed materials in hand, and a book truck to cart materials back and forth from the stacks to the Reading Room. 

But something else wanders those shelves too- and has since the Society moved to 1154 Boylston Street in 1899. 

Once the staff leave the stacks, and the rows of shelves again lie under cover of darkness, something else prowls the shelves. It touches many books in the collection, trailing its rusty fingertips along the shelves as it wanders the aisles.

On this chilly October morning, a librarian enters the stacks. They shiver with the temperature difference- going from the 124-year-old main building to the climate-controlled stacks can be a shock on any morning. (Seriously, the scariest thing in our building may be the AC. When you visit, we recommend bringing a sweater to fend off the cold!) 

But is it just the temperature, with what we know is lurking? 

Fortunately for the librarian, they only have one item to pull–a bound volume from the 1850s. They stride in confidently, knowing exactly where this volume will be. But what they don’t know is that the volume will be high up on the top shelf, well above their head. It’s a common occurrence with shelves from floor to ceiling, to have to stretch (or grab the squeaky stepstool) to reach materials. So, they sigh, reach up as high as they can, and give the book a gentle tug to pull it off the shelf. 

That’s when it strikes. 

Red spots of digested and disintegrating leather flow from the book, hanging in a haze in the air, and shower the librarian and the shelves. Red spots cover the librarian’s hair and face, cover the cardigan they wear, and stain their white shirt. They look, to be frank, like a murder has occurred in the hallowed halls of the MHS. 

They have encountered red rot. 

After a quick pause to think through what they were just showered with, all the librarian can do is sigh and put the call slip back where the volume had sat. This throws up another puff of the red dust that has accumulated where the book has been sitting. They bring the book down to the Reading Room for the researcher to use and begin a futile attempt to get the leather particles of their clothing without staining. This book will require everyone who handles it to wash their hands, making the water run red with the decay that has happened in the stacks. 

Red rot is a form of decay that can happen to vegetable-tanned leather items. It’s a natural effect of the leather aging, which means that it’s touched quite a few volumes in our collection. We keep all of our materials in dark, climate-controlled spaces to slow down this natural process and make sure any volumes get preservation attention as needed. Want to know more about red rot? Check out Explore Libraries and Archives Mutual Ltd.’s article here. 

You are being watched.  

The stacks are a funny place- between the rows and rows of shelving, the concrete floors, and different doorways in and out of the stacks, you can never truly tell when you are alone. Footsteps echo through the floors, sometimes sounding as if someone has walked directly behind you as you scan the shelves. Doors that are floors away slam as if they were right next to you, and yet coworkers can accidentally sneak up behind you without realizing someone else had stepped onto the floor. 

Having shaken off their encounter with red rot, the librarian steps back into another floor of stacks to search for another box. Just as the door closes behind them, the lights finally flicker on and faintly–very faintly–they hear the sound of footsteps. Probably from one of the other stacks upstairs, but it still sets their nerves on edge. 

They carefully pick through the stacks, looking for the correct collection. Somewhere in the stacks, there are more footsteps–a quick glance around still doesn’t calm their nerves. As they round the end of an aisle, something flits through the corner of their eye. Something different. 

There is someone else in the stacks. 

Someone tall, ghostly pale, who was not there just moments ago. Someone who is staring directly down the aisle. 

Over the 232 years (9 months, 4 days) that the MHS has existed, it has collected some . . . interesting items. Most of them are exceedingly cool–when you’re expecting them. There are a few items that tend to sneak up on you. Especially when you consider the fact that they . . . are everywhere. We’ve tucked items into every (climate controlled, secure) nook and cranny that we have! You are almost always within 10 feet of someone’s portrait or bust, supervising you as you work. When they move, it can catch you off guard.  

Meet Jared Sparks. Or rather, Jared Spark’s bust, based on the original made by Hiram Powers in 1857. Spark’s bust used to sit on the floor with other busts in the collection, but was recently put up on a pedestal, creating the illusion of a stranger in the stacks. 

We hope you have a safe and happy Halloween! 

If you’re looking for more spooky stories about the MHS, check out this blog post: Scary Stories to Tell in the Stacks.

By Susan Martin, Senior Processing Archivist

This is the final installment in a series. Click here to read Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, and Part VIII.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this guided tour through the Civil War service of Pvt. Howard J. Ford of Cambridge, Mass. We finish up the series today with the last few pages of his journal, which was acquired by the MHS in 2019.

The spring of 1863 was chaotic for Howard. His regiment, the 43rd Massachusetts Infantry, was ordered out from New Bern to Washington, N.C., three separate times in less than two weeks. He was clearly exhausted and frustrated. On 17 April, he wrote:

Just 10 days ago tonight at 9 ½ o’clock we were tumbled out of bed and started for Little Washington by the overland route. Got back to camp at 3 P.M. the 10th. About 2 P.M. the 11th started again for L.W. but this time by the water route. Got back to camp at 11 ½ P.M. the 15th inst. And today we are ordered off again at 2 P.M. to go on the “Escort” again for Little Washington. We have been knocked about so much that only 259 men left camp. Some fell out by the way.

The reason for all this movement was a Confederate siege on Washington, a Union-occupied town 40 miles to the north. (It was called by some “Little Washington” to distinguish it from the national capital.) Howard didn’t see much action there, but he was impressed by the blockade runner Escort. On this third deployment, the regiment found the Confederate batteries deserted, and many “disheartened” rebel soldiers simply walked up and surrendered. Howard got a chance to visit the town, which he thought “quite pretty,” and to attend an African American church service.

He also drew an impressive diagram of the Union entrenchments.

The 43rd Regiment left again for New Bern on 24 April. The following week was fairly uneventful, except for a short excursion west toward Kinston and back. Howard’s journal describes a quiet period in camp; he made a ring for his daughter, bought a straw hat to help with the heat, and weighed himself—161 pounds, 204 ½ with all his equipment. The troops even captured a fawn, which Howard called “a beautiful creature.”

His last entry was written on 3 May 1863 and reads only: “All Well as usual.”

I couldn’t find any records accounting for his whereabouts or activities for the next two months, but I do know that he never made it home.

Howard J. Ford died of typhoid fever on 1 July 1863 at Hammond General Hospital in Beaufort, N.C., one week after his nine-month term of service had expired. According to the National Museum of Civil War Medicine, “there were 75,148 documented cases of typhoid fever with 27,058 deaths (36% mortality rate) within the Union army. […] In a war where two thirds of deaths were from disease, typhoid fever was among the deadliest.”

Howard was survived by his wife Mary Agnes (Reid) Ford and their two young children, Howard and Lizzie. Unfortunately, little Howard died of scarlet fever just five years later, when he was seven. Mary never remarried and lived until 1920, dying just a few weeks shy of her 80th birthday. And Lizzie, who was less than a year old when her father died, lived to be 89 and was survived by three daughters, three sons, and at least four grandchildren.

By Heather Rockwood, Communications Manager

Happy Halloween season! The “dead” are everywhere you look, including in the MHS archives. From paintings to books, to letters and jewelry, the creators and wearers are all deceased. Although we know they are gone, we continue to research and talk about their lives. The following pieces from the MHS collection show us those that have died in a very real way.

These two paintings offer different perspectives on the dead—one of a deceased man who looks alive, and the other of corpse that is . . . stuffed. The first painting is of Captain George H. Bush of the 13th Regiment of Massachusetts Infantry. The painting jumped out at me because the artist made it postmortem, or after the subject has died. Most postmortem paintings show the subject sleeping or in repose, but Capt. Bush is standing, alive and well. The second painting is of the funeral of Billy Bruin, a bear that was supposed to be on display at an amusement park in Wellesley, Massachusetts, but soon after he arrived, he escaped and was found dead ten days later. His owner, who also owned the amusement park, decided to capitalize on Billy anyway and planned a lavish funeral for the bear. A stuffed Billy is atop a litter with people parading before and behind him in costume, military uniform, or festive dress, some play in a band. Other figures wear Native American clothing, but it is unclear if they are Indigenous people.

This beautiful brooch is a special piece in the MHS collection. The hair inside is from Mercy Otis Warren, who was an author and playwright who wrote a history of the American Revolution. After its publication in 1805, her friends, John and Abigail Adams read it, and because of its critical portrayal of John, the relationship broke off. However, in 1812 they rekindled the friendship and to celebrate, Abigail Adams had a ring and a brooch made for herself. The brooch contains Mercy’s hair intertwined with Abigail’s. Although the brooch was not made as a mourning object, Mercy passed in 1814 and Abigail most likely cared for this brooch as a memorial item of her friend. This can be speculated because hair jewelry was customarily made as remembrances or as memorials of a loved one.  

Here is your warning that the following quote depicts a horrifying scene in the aftermath of the Battle of Shiloh, during the Civil War. Horace Newton Fisher wrote a letter to his father, Francis Fisher, on 10 April 1862, after participating in the battle, including this description:

It is estimated that the U.S. lost 7000 men and killed & wounded and 3000 prisoners…and that theirs exceeds 30000 men (by their own estimate). Most horrible thought! The dead men & dead horses lay in piles, the wounded were on every side.

His visual and evocative wording takes us to that battlefield and the colossal death, destruction, and tragedy that he witnessed before his eyes.