Saving The Puritan Sea Monster

September 2022- Rhea

My eyes were already heavy from the little sleep as I worked a double shift at The Donut Place the day before. I entered my last class for the day, an elective at Pearce Community College called “Women in New England During the Seventeenth Century.” I’m not sure why I selected this class other than it fit into my schedule and I needed the credits if I was ever going to transfer into four-year college. I wasn’t sure what I even wanted to do with my life yet. I was just kind of floating, but I felt like getting a degree in something would help.

I picked a seat in the back with a window open and pulled out the first book assigned on the syllabus. The teacher who walked in three minutes later was every bit granola crunchy as I expected. Her blond curly hair bustled out of a men's fedora hat and loosely hung down her shoulders. She had red framed glasses and wore a long flowery skirt that almost touched the floor. Ms. Lyons or Didi as she asked that we call her, started right in about understanding more about history than we had previously been taught. My eyes still heavy opened the book to the chapter titled “Elizabeth Emerson.” Her story piqued my interest, so I tried to listen. I could tell the ten other students in the class seemed to be paying attention, as several were asking questions. My eyes were so heavy and started to close as I would jerk my head to avoid Didi’s gaze. I would snap my neck forward and then held my head in my hands. The seat I chose may not have helped as the sun on my face encouraged my eyes to remain closed. I could hear Didi speak further about the “atrocities” committed by the Puritans and then I was alone in the light.

Boston, June 8, 1693- Elizabeth

Church bells rang in my ears which startled my slumber as I woke. I pulled the thin blanket over my limbs, as today was the day that I had known would happen. The irony that I should wake to church bells was something to behold. I was in the same soiled dress I had been in since my arrest which I tried to clean with the limited daily water I received.

My eyes glanced around the cell where I had spent two years for a crime that has cast me as “the miserable sinner”. Reverend Cotton Mather has stated that he will reveal this fact in his remarks during my last breaths. I do not know if I am that, but I do know that I was not meant for this world. I was born unto parents that found me incorrigible, and my father was even fined and charged for the severe beating he once gave me in my youth. My parents were highly suspicious of me as I did not follow “the word of God” and instead indulged in the freedom of my desires.

I looked out the small window in my jailhouse room, a bit of sunlight glistened my face which for a moment I felt the presence of some peace. It was almost if I heard someone calling my name, but I turned away as I cannot go mad at this time, it will then prove true that I am as wicked as they say.

I looked back around the small space as I heard the guard inserting the cast iron key into the lock. He did not even look at me which I have become accustomed to in this existence. He placed a bowl of broth and two pieces of bread which I grabbed to eat in small morsels, I would need to have strength even for this day. I thought of Samuel as I ate alone. I remembered all that brought me here. I then turned and spoke to light where I heard my name. I decided to speak so that my story can be heard.

It really began when I was sent into town to purchase a few provisions for my mother. As I stepped back onto the brick stone path to return home, a man whom I knew to be a descendent of a founding patron of our town stepped in front of me. He introduced himself as Samuel Ladd. He looked straight into my eyes which not one soul had ever done before.

“My such a lovely astute being should grace my walk. How did I come to know such luck?” Samuel grinned while reaching for my basket of sugar and flour. I blushed as I let him carry my items. We were soon engaged in smiles and spoke with ease. He said I was the most beautiful in town and even though I knew he was married, I agreed to meet him again that week. We would share bread and fruit in the pasture behind a neighbor’s farm. I knew he was married and had many children, yet I followed him to a local inn where he promised in words we were betrothed, “if not in this life, then a life beyond.” The lovemaking was full and awakening. I cannot say I regret it so I have never felt more alive. It is only until your soul is touched do you realize that you were not living before. I met him at the inn as often as we could. I planned unnecessary errands to town, visits to elderly women who needed assistance. All under the guise so I could meet with Samuel at the inn. He would leave a key for me buried in wooden box under a maple tree next to his home. I would retrieve and return it without being seen.

My sister Hannah saw me one day running down from the tree and questioned why I was across town. Hannah had always been the sister I could trust, but I waited to release news of my affair with her. She was as strict as my parents in her Puritan beliefs. “Just picking some flowers for mother!” I held 12 daisies in my hand that I thrust in front of her. I know she did not believe me as the nod of her head and stern look firmly stated.

Hannah would find out soon enough that I was not really picking flowers. During next couple of months my belly protruded. As much I tried to cover the neighbors would gossip when I walked into town. Samuel’s visits were less, and he implied that we should hold off any further indulgence. I was alone and delivered a baby girl whom I called Dorothy. She was precious and sweet. I waited for the beating as fornication before marriage involved severe punishment. The whipping never came. Instead, Dorothy and I would be considered ravaged and unworthy. Towns people would whisper, my parents hardly spoke to me. The only one who was kind was Hannah who helped me with Dorothy’s care.

I could hear Grace in the cell next to me whimper and cry out. I paused from my story to support Grace. I’m not sure whether Grace was in for the same crime as me, but I heard the guards state that she would face the same demise. I started to sing to her in my weakened shallow voice a hymn we often sang to each other nightly during the last two years, “If Thou, But Suffer God to Guide Thee.” I stopped in middle to let her know that she was much better voice than mine. I heard a giggle and a quiet thank you through the walls.

I looked back at the light as I felt this presence. “Hello, is someone there?”

Rhea

I woke as my head snapped forward. Didi was frowning looking straight at me. I nodded my head with apology. Had I just seen Elizabeth Emerson in my dreams? It felt so real as if I was there. I could see the vision of her. Her long hair falling over her face until she pulled in up in tight hair bun. Her brown eyes looked into mine and I could see she was not much older than me. I felt like she needed my help or maybe my understanding. I looked down at her story on the pages in front of me, but it was not the same. I turned again towards the light and tried to reach back to my earlier vision.

Elizabeth

I sat in silence after singing with Grace. The presence I felt earlier had left. Just then the light covered my face as earlier and I heard my name again. I smiled as I continued with my story of why I have sat in a Boston jail cell for two years.

Slowly after Dorothy’s birth I began to reconnect with some townspeople who needed to interact with me. There was never eye contact or a warm thank you, but they did begin to acknowledge my existence. I would continue to hear about my bastard child, Dorothy, whom they would openly pray for in front of me. They would constantly tell her not to follow my devilish path. Hannah continued to help with Dorothy as she had experience in child rearing, bearing many offspring herself. My parents demanded that I had to sleep at the foot of their bed as to be under their constant watch.

Samuel, well Samuel Ladd started to engage with me again. At first, I brushed off his advances, angered that he had left me alone to bear a child. He persisted and I did miss his warm touch, his embrace. So. when he pointed to the where the box with the key was under our tree and asked me to meet him the next day, I went. Our lovemaking was stronger than before. We completely absorbed in each other’s bodies. I worked harder this time to make sure that our meetings were more secretive. I knew I was taking a risk, yet I could not stop from seeing him.

Then when I felt a swell in my belly just as before. I quietly covered my girth and denied any knowledge to my mother when she asked. I again confided in Hannah who was still my only source of support. One night while my mother and father were sleeping, I delivered the infants right at the foot of my parent’s bed. Two boys, twins they were so small, I’m not sure that I carried them long enough, they weren’t breathing. Their small hands were blue. They wouldn’t open their eyes. One had a birthing cord around his neck. I could not remove it. I was so scared and did not want to wake my parents. I put them in the box that I had taken from under the tree. I opened it up and put them in it on top of Samuel’s inn key. I cleaned up and tried to rest, but I just stared at the box which I placed under my parent’s bed. In the morning when they left for church, I sowed the little lifeless bodies into a blanket and buried them far out in the yard.

I tried to carry on though nothing had happened. Attending to the needs of my daughter, my parents. Hannah asked me what happened, and I said I was mistaken I had never been with child. Samuel was not around and did not offer assistance. Then three days later while my parents were at an evening event at the church, several townspeople pushed open our front door. They had a woman, Mary Neff, the local mid-wife who would examine me. There was a warrant for my arrest for infanticide. “No, no!” I tried to explain as I was forced to submit to the examination. Dorothy was taken and sent to Hannah.

Several men went out with candles and shovels as they tore up different parts of the yard until they came across my children. I was immediately charged and brought to Boston where I have been for two years.

I heard a gasp from the light in my cell. “I tell you I am innocent!” I yelled to the light shining so bright with shadows of the steel window bars vertically streaming in between. “Their hands were blue! They did not cry! My babies did not cry!” I looked back at the brick wall where rats have crawled through the holes at night scrambling for any morsel I may have missed from the mere rations Grace, and I received.

Reverend Cotton Mather has visited many times over the years. I had heard of him as it was well known he was persecuting witches in Salem and other towns in Massachusetts. I was not a witch, I told him, "I did not kill my children! They were already dead!” I pleaded.

One time as he was sitting in silence. He slowly got up and yelled, “It does not matter whether they were alive or dead, you have broken the law by concealing their existence! How do you know there was not a breath in them, not one breath? “He would appear right in my face as I backed into the corner of my cell.

“Can you be sure Elizabeth? Not one breath?” His eyes staring right into mine

“Well, there could have been one breath.” I spoke softly remembering their faces, their hands. I looked up in anguish with tears down running down my face.

“You are a miserable sinner who has participated in whoredom!” Reverend Mather would state. “You shall be hanged as others who do not follow the church!” With that I was given my sentence and have known my fate was sealed.

“Do you believe me?” I yelled at the light. “Do you believe me?”

I sat and cried as I have done many times before in the last two years. I then turned as the light flickered in my face and I thought I heard someone quietly whisper, “I do!”

Rhea

I heard myself yelling “I do!” I felt a jab in my arm as the girl sitting next to me poked me with her pencil. “Try not to be so obvious. You were talking in your sleep!”

I looked up to see Didi roll her eyes looking directly at me. She then turned to chalkboard and drew a timeline of women who were prosecuted during the colonization for things such premarital relations, concealment of pregnancy, concealment of stillborn child outside of marriage, joining another religion such as the Quakers, indentured servants and slaves who betrayed their masters, and witchcraft. Twenty- nine women alone were hung for infanticide from 1630 through 1800 in New England. Most were young unmarried poor or indentured servants of both white and African American descent. Most of the women claimed the children they delivered were stillborn and they probably were as these women did not even have the limited medical treatment of a midwife that was offered at the time. Their fear of being beaten, ostracized or losing their employment (as a indentured servant would) hindered their ability to reveal their pregnancy. Men were fined for premarital relations, and some did receive public beatings, but none faced execution. The very concealment of a pregnancy outside of marriage if the baby did not live was punishable by death for a woman.

"Imagine if we could go back in time and inform the Puritan government that their laws ruled by religion were not only killing these women but were the very reason their children were dead in the first place." Didi was walking back and forth as she spoke.

I was typing notes on my laptop as fast as I could. I was embarrassed that I had slept during this important class but also felt so connected to Elizabeth. I wanted to see her again. I looked again at the light. Maybe I could tell her things will change. Maybe I could help her, save her. Maybe I could speak to the prosecutors who held her. I felt some purpose. I closed my eyes.

Elizabeth

I am here now, waiting on my final punishment, the guard returned with a dress from home that Hannah had made. She did not come to visit which I understood. According to these times I have brought shame to my family. When the guard left, I changed into the new garment which hung loose on me as I had lost much of my weight eating only broth and bread. I buckled my shoes and tied my bonnet. I thought of how well I had concealed the pregnancy and was still baffled as to how the townspeople knew to storm into my home that night.

Samuel surely would not have told them; I had heard that he denied even knowing me. It would bring him shame as well to admit our acquaintance. My parents would not have wanted their namesake trampled on again. It was still not solved in my mind as to who would have betrayed me. I followed the guard as he brought me to the wheel cart and Grace and I rode in the back as though we were animals. I again felt the light as I had in the cell. I swear I heard “I will help you; I believe you!”

"It’s okay." I looked back, "I am ready."

September 2022-Rhea

I could hear my name being whispered as I moved my head from the desk. I looked up to see Didi right in front of me with a look of compassion rather than resentment as she had before. The class was empty and quiet except for her and I.

“You saw her, didn’t you?” Didi whispered. I nodded my head.

“Will she be okay?” I looked at her as a tear streamed down my eye.

“Go home and get some sleep Rhea. We will have more to talk about next class.” She patted my shoulder as she turned to leave.

Boston, June 8, 1693- Elizabeth

The crowd was large. People brought children. No, I am not for this world. I would never allow my dear Dorothy to witness an event such as this.

They wheeled us to an elm tree with ropes already hanging. Grace would go first. She glanced at me with the look of terror. I watched as she climbed the ladder, and they placed a rope around her neck. My eyes looked away as the ladder was removed. She hung and struggled as the breath moved out and her beautiful voice ceased. The spectacle of a townspeople cheered.

Reverend Mather read his proclamation about my miserable soul. I was more stubborn a woman than he had ever encountered. More wretched than a sea monster. I stood up and confessed to sins I know were not mine. I climbed the ladder and my ankles shook, several men held me, so I did not fall. The irony of their assistance was not lost on me. I scanned the crowd as they placed the rope around my neck. My parents were not there, nor Samuel. But Hannah was there which at first made me slightly smile, but then I could not catch her eye, she was looking at Reverend Mather with familiarity and I looked back at him as he nodded to her. My mind raced with questions and then answers.

“Hannah was it you?” I whispered still looking at her as the rope was tightened.

“Was it you?” I wanted to scream but the ladder was removed from my feet. My legs dangled. I felt the air leave my lungs. I looked down at my hands, the same color blue as my boys.

My boys whom I can see now. My boys I am with you.

This is a story of historical fiction based on Elizabeth Emerson who was hung on June 8th, 1693, on Boston Common for the crime of infanticide along with an African American woman named Grace who was an indentured servant also was prosecuted for infanticide of her child. Elizabeth insisted that her twin boys were stillborn. At the time concealment of stillborn death had the same punishment. At the time concealment of stillborn death had the same punishment. According to the New England Historical Society twenty-nine women were hung for the crime of infanticide. Most were poor or indentured servants or enslaved African American women. Almost all claimed that that the children they delivered were stillborn. At the time it did not matter whether the children were born alive or dead it was against the law to conceal a pregnancy outside of marriage and punishable by death if the concealment lead to a still born death.

Reverend Cotton Mathers was a preacher at Boston Old North Church. He became well known for his investigative efforts during the Salem Witch Trials sending letters to the prosecution about suspected witches. He would also visit Elizabeth Emerson frequently after her arrest urging her to confess to the crime. Years later after Elizabeth was executed, he promoted Elizabeth’s sister, Hannah Emerson Duston as a hero for a massacre she committed of a Native American family when she was kidnapped with her midwife Mary Neff. During the kidnapping Hannah reported her own baby was killed and she was justified to use a tomahawk on ten native Americans including six children. She took several of their scalps to receive a bounty. She remains a controversial figure in New England colonial history.

Elizabeth Emerson maintained her innocence for two years until Reverend Mathers claimed she had confessed to him. Many believe her confession was written for her and read on the day of her execution.

She was buried in an unmarked grave.

References

New England Historical Society Puritan Child Killers: Hannah Duston and Her Sister - New England Historical Society

Griffin, D., (2014) Cotton Mather and the Emerson Family, Massachusetts Historical Review (MHR) (16) 1-48