New England, notably, Salem, Massachusetts is known for its witchcraft dilemmas. Connecticut held witch trials and executions as early as 1647 when Alse (Alice) Young was hanged at the gallows for witchcraft on May 26 of that year. This took place forty-five years before the Salem witch trials. There are many accounts of witches in the pages of New England history books. Presented here are a few of the lesser known witch accounts of the region. 

This excerpt is from Henry Nourse’s History of the Town of Harvard Massachusetts, 1731-1893. 

“Throughout that century and even to within the memory of the living, from time to time in Harvard individuals otherwise sober-minded have declared themselves the victims of witchcraft; usually charging their mishaps to the evil eye or magic arts of some forlorn old crone. For instance, the later years of Moses Tyler and Daniel Willard, it is said, were greatly embittered by their believing themselves afflicted by witches; and good dame Knight, when she had ill success in butter-making, never blamed her own lack of skill, but inveighed against her neighbor Goody Pollard for bewitching the cream. She declared that she one day struck with the peel a great, black spider which ran out from the churn, but, though seriously crippled, it got away up the chimney; and the next day she found out that it was a witch she had hurt, and who it was, for Goody Pollard had to send for the doctor, having been badly lamed, as she alleged, by falling downstairs.”

Like many of the original churches in early New England, the first meeting house in Simsbury, Connecticut served as both church and town hall. The original site of the building was at the foot of a hill near the old cemetery. This story takes place between 1690 and 1710 and concerns the alleged witch of Simsbury, Debby Griffen. 

Debby was a recluse for the most part. She was tall with piercing eyes and a most unfriendly demeanor. She spent much of her time in the woods around her small cottage gathering herbs or mushrooms and berries. The only time she found herself in the public eye was when she wandered into the village for provisions. The townsfolk shied away from her lonely cabin in the woods, for it was there that black cats with arrogant yellow eyes pranced about, or massive gray ganders squawked at those who had no choice but to traverse past her home. There was one story that circulated about the town concerning two militia men returning from training. As they cautiously passed Debby’s house they were startled by a clamor. Looking up, they saw Debby flying away on one her giant ganders. 

On a sunny April Sunday morning, Deacon Eleazer Hill inserted the key into the lock of the church but then something strange transpired; a small bird that had followed him to the meeting house chirped, “you’ll find trouble, you’ll find trouble.” The deacon swung the heavy wooden door open and to his horror, discovered the wooden chest holding the alter ornaments had been broken into. 

A quick inventory revealed the only item stolen was the silver drinking chalice but that was more than enough for the congregation to bear. They assembled and narrowed down the suspects to only one person, Debby Griffen. It was thought she may return for a second helping the next night.

As the sun set, several villagers took positions around the church. When darkness had completely enveloped the land, the men spied a figure slowly moving down the hill past the cemetery leading to the church. As the figure grew near, they immediately recognized it as Debby Griffen. She approached the door but did not attempt to open it, instead she turned into a vaporous mist and disappeared through the keyhole.

Moments later she reappeared with one of the silver communion plates. The group stealthily followed her to the area of Three Corner Pond. There the witch paused for a few moments. This gave one of the pursuers enough time to raise his musket and fire at the woman.

His aim was true and Debby Griffen was hit by the musket ball, but before she fell, she screamed a curse, held the silver platter in the air and jumped into the pond, never to be seen again. Subsequent searches of the water proved fruitless in finding the old hag or the plate. It is reported to this day that sometimes, when the moon is full one can look into the water where Debby met her end and see the glimmer of what resembles a silver plate reflecting the moon’s rays into the night sky. 

Happy Hallowe’en