First Years, Lesson Three

"Good morning, everyone," Gabrielle greeted. "No time to waste, get ready to write because this is going to be a big one. Behave yourselves, and we'll go on a field trip after we get through this topic." She turned around and put a header on the board saying 'The Salem Witch Trials', and cleared her throat.

"1692, Salem Village, Massachusetts. Salem is a port town, so you have all sorts of trade coming into the harbour, and a thriving economy. You'd think this would be a great thing, right?" she asked, somewhat rhetorically. "However, as you may well know, there are always those who don't like change. So you have on one side the people who are tied to the port economy, making their money in trade and growing the town, and on the other side, you have the Puritans. The Puritans were primarily farmers, very religious - Christianity, naturally, although highly opposed to the Catholic church, even more so than the Church of England was - and set in their ways. They did not approve of the individualism the sea trade was creating. Merlin forbid anyone make money." She paused to take a drink, giving the students a chance to rest their hands.

"The Puritans, meanwhile, were very communal. This was centred around the church, naturally. So in order to solidify the divide between the central business distract and the farmlands, the Puritans established their own parish in the year 1689. This congregation was led by, importantly, the Reverend Samuel Parris, and they began their worship in the Salem Village meeting house. The Reverend Parris is of note especially here because he had a nine year old daughter, Betty, and an orphaned twelve year old niece, Abigail Williams. The Puritans believed that idleness and play were things that could lead to the corrupting influence of Satan," Gabrielle paused, briefly, to let that sink in, "and that the devil could grant the power of witchcraft, which was a great evil, and against the word of the Lord. Feels bad, doesn't it, my little hellspawn?"

It was a pretty heavy lesson, but Gabrielle soldiered on. "These two girls, along with a few others, began to have fits, and the doctor could not find a sign of any ailment. It was therefore believed that the girls had been cursed by witches. Behind the Reverend's back, his slave Tituba and her husband John Indian were ordered to bake a 'witch cake', which would supposedly allow the girls to name their tormentors." Gabrielle cleared her throat. "Now, this is pretty disgusting, but the witch cake was made from rye mixed with the urine of the afflicted, which is then fed to a dog to see if the dog displays symptoms. I'm no healer, but it sounds...pretty dubious. Nevertheless, the girls spoke, and named Tituba, Sarah Osborne, and Sarah Good of the grievous sin of witchcraft." There was a gentle sarcasm in her tone, despite the heavy nature of the lecture. She at least wanted to deliver it in good humour.

"So these three women, why would they be accused of witchcraft? Well, they were all outsiders. Sarah Osborne was elderly and did not attend church, which was considered sinful. Sarah Good was homeless, and a beggar. She would mutter under her breath if people did not give her alms, possibly cursing. People would attribute her visits to the death of their livestock. And Tituba, of course, was known to the girls. She was a slave from the West Indies,"
Gabrielle explained, unable to hide a look of distaste at that, despite her better judgement. Of course, she didn't have time to lecture on slavery now. "The low social standing and different race made her a prime target for accusation."

"These women, along with others, were interrogated and branded as witches. They were executed for their alleged crimes, being hanged. Previous witch hunts had burned witches at the stake. Of course, real witches would simply use the flame-freezing charm. Wendelin the Weird was said to have allowed herself to be caught for witchcraft up to forty-seven times just because she liked the sensation of the flames after the use of the charm. Try it yourselves sometime when you're a bit older - though maybe don't set each other on fire until you feel confident with the charm."
Gabrielle hoped that tidbit lightened the mood a little bit. "But of course, regardless of whether the original accused were witches or not, this dealt a huge blow to relations between the magical and non-magical communities, relations which were already strained. And so, later in 1692, the International Statute of Secrecy was established, and has remained in force ever since." Witch-hunts were still practiced in parts of the world, but Gabrielle didn't need to bog the students down with a depressing fact right now.

Gabrielle stopped to take a drink of water, looking around at the tired faces of the students and giving them a smile. "Sorry, that was pretty long. Don't worry, that's the longest lecture you'll have for a while. For homework, I'd like you to have a bit more of a look in to the witch trials, and write a short essay on the trials or anyone associated with them, if you want to look back to the previous witch hunts please be my guest. Let me know if you're having any trouble." She dismissed the class with a smile, glad that she wouldn't have to give such a lengthy lecture to those poor first years again this year. Unless they started acting up even more. Then she was sure she could come up with something.

Homework
RP the lesson. Extra credit for the assigned essay (1-2 paragraphs, no minimum word count), please list sources.
 
Annika didn’t like note taking, but she knew it was required both for this class and for this course specifically. She wasn’t exactly jumping at the core to be a historian, but then she wasn’t necessarily jumping at the core for anything either really. She scribbled down in her notes as the professor spoke trying to get everything she was saying. Sometimes Nik wondered if some of it was going in one ear and out the other because a lot of the times the moment she walked out of this class she forgot entirely what she’d just learned. Ah well, it wasn’t too bad she supposed. She knew a lot of this any way just having grown up on stories either from her books as a kid or heavily altered bed time stories. So it wasn’t very hard to pick up on, she thought, and anything she missed she could probably get out of a book, since the professor obviously had to get it out of somewhere too. She didn’t like learning about the witch trials so much, because it was mostly stupid muggles just burning other stupid muggles, as if a real witch could be burned at the stake. What a joke. She rolled her eyes at the whole thing when the class ended and headed out quickly before her brother cornered her for more homework.​
 
Amias walked into the history of magic classroom and took his usual spot in the room. His gaze moved to the professor at the front of the room as the woman got started. It seemed that they would be getting another long lecture, which he didn’t mind too much. Amias took his quill and began taking notes from what she was saying, trying his best to follow along with what was being said by the professor. He was trying to keep up but it was difficult. He was really struggling to be able to keep up with it all. Amias lost track a couple of times, and then eventually would find his way back. The professor eventually wrapped up the lesson and he packed up his things and headed out of the room.
 

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