Giles initially supported the claims
against his wife (was it her cooking?), offering “evidence” that his wife had been “muttering” through
her chores. He soon recanted, however, when he became aware of the severity of the prosecution and what lay in store for those
accused.
According to the laws of the time—which
were the source of much confusion, given that Salem had been operating without a charter for many months—the wealth
and property of the accused could be confiscated if he were found guilty of the crime of Witchcraft. This would leave the
heirs of those accused without inheritance. However, a person could not be found guilty or innocent if he refused to enter
a plea, thereby protecting his possessions for his family.
Such a tactic, though, came with a terrible
price. In order to extract a plea, authorities would place boards across the silent “criminal,” piling the boards
with heavy stones until the accused made a plea of guilty or innocent.
It was this very tactic that Giles Corey
used. Knowing that he would be found guilty no matter what his plea, Giles made the difficult choice to endure this Puritan
form of torture that his children would inherit the fruits of his hard labor.
Sheriff George Corwin, much reviled son
of Witch Trials magistrate Jonathan Corwin, profited greatly from the trials, confiscating property and dividing the spoils.
It was he who presided over the crushing of Giles Corey, which took place at a field that is now Howard Cemetery, overlooked
by the old Salem Jail.
It was later said that, as stones continued
to be places atop the wooden door covering Giles Corey, that all he would say is “more weight.” While this
is more likely the results of folklore, what is reputed by witnesses of the time to have been said is far more damning in
retrospect. With his dying breath, Giles Corey addressed Sheriff Corwin “Damn you Sheriff I curse you and Salem!”
Local Salem historian and former High
Sheriff of Essex County Robert Ellis Cahill discovered some years ago that the curse of Giles Corey may have come to bear.
He notes that each and every Sheriff down from George Corwin to himself, each headquartered at the Salem Jail overlooking
the the place where Corey was killed, had died while in office or had been forced out of his post as the result of a heart
or blood ailment. Corwin himself died in 1696, not long after the trials, of a heart attack. Thankfully, Cahill’s heart
attack and subsequent blood ailment forced him into retirement and not into an early grave, for he later went on to chronicle
many strange stories of New England’s past.
The Curse of Giles Corey
was not just leveled at the Sheriff but at “all of Salem.” It is said that each time Salem has undergone a major
tragedy (such as the great fire that nearly destroyed the town), it was not long after a claimed sighting of the ghost of
Giles Corey. Coincidence? Perhaps. Still, could the words spoken by this tragic victim of hysteria have left an imprint that
is still at work in Salem today?
