USA > Connecticut > Hartford County > Hartford > Colonial history of Hartford, Connecticut > Part 27
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was occasioned by an accident on the part of John Ewe. He was ordered to pay £5 to the Country and £10 to Widow Scott. On the whole, there were a surprising number of imprisonments for counterfeiting, especially during the later years of their colonial currency. This crime was severely punished.
One misdemeanor that was very common during colonial times, was regarded with particular aversion and punished accordingly. It was slander, or defamation of character, which is rare in modern courts. The attitude of the founders of Connecticut, as expressed in the Code of 1650, was that "no mans honor or good name shall be stained" unjustly. They vested in their courts the protection of such a name, as they did his property rights. The publishing of a lie, "pernicious to the publique weale, or tending to the damage or iniurye of any particular person," was a great injustice. "To deceive and abuse the people with false newes or re- portes," was a public wrong. This was one of their social temptations, as would have been natural among news- mongers. Lying was punishable by a fine of ten shillings for the first offense. In default of payment, one could be placed in the stocks not exceeding three hours. The fine was doubled for the second offense, or a whipping on the naked body, not exceeding twenty stripes, could be ad- ministered. For the third offense, the fine was forty shil- lings, or thirty stripes. Upon each conviction thereafter, there was an increase in the penalty. This was a process that was quite likely to cure the liar in time. The enforce- ment of this law did not bar any person from an action for slander. Such suits were quite common, and the penalty was usually severe. The fine was as high as thirty pounds. In 1646, the slanderer of Mistress Mary Fenwick was sen- tenced to stand in the pillory during the lecture, then to be whipped, then fined five pounds, and finally to endure six months imprisonment. The libeler of Mistress Chester in 1649, was committed to prison, to be brought forth and whipped the next lecture day, then to be imprisoned for a month, at the end of which time he was to be corrected again - all in addition to giving security for his good be- havior. There were other instances of slandering promi-
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nent colonial dames, whose vindication was promptly undertaken by the magistrates. They often displayed an ability to discriminate between neighborhood quarrels and vicious slanders. On one occasion, Goody A sued Goody B for circulating damaging reports about her character. The court, after due consideration, decided that Goody A bore in fact such a character among her neighbors.
The impression prevails that offenses against social morality were scandalously common in colonial times. It is true that such misdemeanors are matters of frequent record. That they are noted in church records is neither surprising nor significant, since public confession and mar- riage were considered a proper and adequate atonement. Their Puritan standard of social virtue was high. This tended to increase their diligence and severity in dealing with immorality. Their most serious problem was due to the servants among them. These were very necessary to their life, both in the field and the household, but they were hard to control. President Dwight has stated that the founders of New England brought with them "a collection of peasants and servants remarkable for their profligacy." After an examination of the records of New Haven County, he reached the conclusion that this class furnished most of their criminals.1 A study of the court records at Hartford confirms this opinion. Pains have been taken to follow the lives of certain persons of this class. The fittest seemed to survive. Others of the baser sort perished. The truth is, that the fathers considered the existence of an unmarried class as a menace to the morals of a community. Laws were enacted to prevent such from gaining a residence among them or living alone. Servants were under the strict super- vision of their masters or mistresses. It was unlawful for any man to pay his attentions to a maid-servant, with design to inveigle her affections, without the mistress' permission. Cases are on record of the violation of this law. The one remedy in early times for social evils was marriage. Parents regarded it as the proper estate for their children when they arrived at maturity, and it was very common for them to bestow a marriage portion, or the means of earning a liveli-
1 Dwight's Travels, IV: 381.
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hood, to this end. This, too, was often the remedy applied by the court.
It has been thought that divorces were rare throughout the colonial period of Connecticut history. Of the seven- teenth century this is true, though they increased towards its close. The General Court ordered in 1677, that no di- vorces should be granted except for adultery, fraudulent contract or wilful desertion, after three years' neglect of duty. It further provided that, after seven years' provi- dential absence, the parties should be declared legally dead to each other. After 1711, many petitions were brought before the Superior Court for this latter reason, and divorces were more frequent on other grounds, although many requests were refused.
The large majority of actions before the colonial courts were, of course, civil cases, such as prosecutions for damages, and suits for debt. For many of these there was good excuse. There was little business system in their transac- tions. Land at first was sometimes conveyed by "turf and twig," after an ancient English custom.1 Many were negligent in the immediate recording of their deeds. Con- tracts and agreements were not always written. Debts were forgotten, and payment was deferred to a more con- venient season. All these conditions helped to increase their law suits.
The most serious indictment that has ever been brought against our early criminal courts is for their action in the witchcraft delusion, the explanation of which has been often made and is here left to others. It was an episode in New England history that should be judged in view of similar beliefs then current in the old world. In Connecticut, all the cases where the condemned were executed occurred between 1647 and 1662.2 They were, therefore, tried in the Particular Court. Of the seventeen in the river towns who were charged with witchcraft during this period, nine were residents of Hartford. Three of these were executed. As . the prison where all criminals of Hartford, Windsor, Wethers- field and Farmington were confined was located in Hart-
1 Original Distribution, p. 368; Hartford Land Records, I: 162.
2 The Witchcraft Delusion in Colonial Connecticut, by John M. Taylor.
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ford, it is probable that the entire number from these towns, which were hung in this delusion, suffered in Hartford. Alse Young of Windsor was the first unhappy victim, but the court records give us no information concerning her trial. On the cover of Mathew Grant's Diary, Dr. J. Ham- mond Trumbull discovered the record "May 26. 47 Alse Young was hanged." This supplies the blank in Winthrop's History: "One of Windsor arraigned and exe- cuted at Hartford for a witch." 1 So far as known, this was the first execution for witchcraft in New England. The next victim was Mary Johnson of Wethersfield. In 1646, she had been sentenced to be whipped for theft, probably at Hartford, which was to be repeated a month later at Wethers- field. On her own confession, she was indicted by a jury December 7, 1648, as guilty of "familiarity with the Deuill." Mather says, "Her confession was attended with such convictive circumstances that it could not be slighted." 2 She confessed, he says, that she had murdered a child, and committed other faults of licentiousness. For some months before her execution, she was imprisoned at Hartford, under the care of William Ruscoe. A son was born to her while there. Nathaniel Ruscoe, the jailor's son, agreed with her before her death to bring up and educate the child, which agreement was afterward sanctioned by the court. The jailor was paid £6 10s. for twenty-four weeks' charges to June 6, 1650, from which fact it is inferred that she was executed on that date. Rev. Samuel Stone ministered to her while in prison, and it is said that she became a penitent woman. She was evidently a poor, misguided creature, who accounted for her fault according to the superstition of the age.
After the execution of John and Joan Carrington of Wethersfield in 1651, and Lydia Gilbert of Windsor in 1654, a witchcraft tragedy was enacted among Hartford residents. It is one story and has been written and published by Dr. Charles J. Hoadly.3 Nine persons were involved, largely
1 Annie Eliot Trumbull, in The Hartford Courant, Dec. 3, 1904; Winthrop's History, II: 374.
2 Mather's Magnalia, Bk. VI, pp. 71-78.
3 "A Case of Witchcraft in Hartford" in Connecticut Magazine, Nov., 1899, pp. 557-561.
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through the statements of Rebecca Greensmith. She had been the wife of Abraham Elsen of Wethersfield, who died in 1648. Then she married Jarvis Mudge, and was a widow when she married the unfortunate Nathaniel Greensmith. Those who were implicated constituted a group of local acquaintances, some of whom had a repute for misdemeanors or immorality. Their names were Nathaniel and Rebecca Greensmith; Elizabeth, the wife of Richard Seager; An- drew Sanford and Mary his wife; William Ayres and his wife; Judith Varlett and James Walkley. Of Rebecca Greensmith, Rev. John Whiting wrote to Increase Mather that she was "a lewd, ignorant and considerably aged woman." Her husband had twice been convicted of theft. The court had once censured him for lying. Elizabeth Seager left a record of shameless crime, being guilty of blas- phemy and adultery. These were the leaders. The others kept such company. One night they had a merry-making, under a tree on the green near Rebecca Greensmith's house. James Walkley, Goodwife Ayres and Goody Seager were present. They all danced and had a bottle of sack. Other nocturnal gatherings were held. Suspicions were awakened in the neighborhood. Nathaniel Greensmith had a small home-lot, house and barn, recently purchased. It was located just south of our present Barnard Park, on which green the dance of the witches was doubtless held.1 Com- plaint had been made to the town that he had set his barn on common land. James Walkley had a house-lot on the north side of the road from George Steele's to the South Meadow. Sanford and Ayres apparently lived on North Main Street. The crisis came in the spring of 1662, with the accusations of a young daughter of John Kelley, uttered in the delirium of sickness. The child died. Immediately, the neighborhood was busy with reports that she had been bewitched unto death. The magistrates examined several of those accused. Nathaniel Greensmith then sued William Ayres for slandering his wife. She and her husband were soon arrested. The defendent Ayres, his wife, and James Walkley, took refuge in flight. Ann, the daughter of John Cole, had strange fits about that time. Her examination
1 Conn. Col. Rec., II: 91; Original Distribution, pp. 268, 269.
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by the ministers, Samuel Hooker of Farmington, Samuel Stone, Joseph Haynes and John Whiting of Hartford, only increased the mystery and augmented the excitement. On June . 6th, Andrew Sanford was indicted for witchcraft. The jury disagreed. A week later, Mary Sanford was in- dicted and found guilty. This action furthered the ultimate indictment of Nathaniel and Rebecca Greensmith, which occurred December 30, 1662. They were both found guilty.1 The woman's testimony implicated her associates. On January 6th, Mary Barnes of Farmington was indicted, and was also found guilty. The tragic scenes, which closed this horrible episode of our local history, can be all too clearly imagined. Mary Sanford was convicted first, and was not long detained in jail. Like some weird spectre of the spirit world, she disappeared. Goodwife Barnes was confined three weeks, for which Daniel Garret, the jail- keeper, was allowed 21s., to be paid by Goodman Barnes. The jailor was also allowed 6s. a week for keeping Nathaniel and Rebecca Greensmith, to be paid out of his estate. His inventory states that he was executed January 25, 1662-3.2 Hutchinson quotes the diary of Goffe, the regicide, under the date January 20th, as saying "three witches were con- demned at Hartford." On this date the Particular Court met. He also says of Rebecca Greensmith: "Upon this
1 The indictment reads: "Nathaniel Greensmith, thou art here indicted by the name of Nathaniel Greensmith for not having the feare of God before thine eyes; thou hast entertained familiarity with Satan, the grand Enemy of God and Man- kind, and by his help hast acted things in a preter naturall way beyond human abilities in a naturall course, for which according to ye Law of God and ye established laws of this Commonwealth thou deserveth to die." The form of the information, used in the Superior Court for many years, assigned all crimes to the instigation of the Devil. The magistrates at this trial were as follows: Mr. [Mathew] Allyn, moderator, Mr. [Samuel] Wyllys, Mr. [Richard] Treat, Mr. [Henry] Woolcot, Danll Clark, Sec., Mr. Jo. Allyn. The jury were: Edw. Griswold, Walter Ffiler Ensign [Nicholas] Olmstead, Samll Boreman, Goodm [Gregory] Winterton, John Cowles, Samll Marshall, Samll Hale, NathanIl Willet, John Hart, John Wads- worth, Robert Webster. The execution of criminals then devolved upon the Mar- shal, who was Jonathan Gilbert. One of the accused is said to have seen this worthy official in a dream, which seemed to presage the end. He was the first of three appointed to settle Greensmith's estate. Jonathan Gilbert succeeded Thomas Stanton in this office, and was followed by George Grave.
2 January 25th was a Sabbath, and we can not think the execution would have occurred on that day. Perhaps the court met on the 20th and they were executed on the 23rd, the latter date being incorrectly copied.
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confeffion fhe was executed, and two more of the company were condemned at the same time." 1 The scene was doubt- less accompanied by the public sensation, common to such occasions in England. It was the last time any witches were hung in Connecticut, and forty years before the excite- ment over the Salem witchcraft. Elizabeth Seager was indicted on the same day with Mary Barnes, and twice later. In 1665 she was convicted, but the Court of Assistants found a way to release her, after a year's imprisonment. It seems probable that the witches were executed outside of the town-plot, on the road from the Cow Pasture into the Country. There the gallows of early times was located. On March 10, 1711-12, John Read sold to John Olcott a tract of about seven acres, bounded south on the "highway leading out of Hartford town towards Symsbury," now Albany Avenue. It is described in the deed as "near the houfe lately built by Joseph Butler, near where the Gallows ufed to stand." 2 The place is near enough identified as on the north side of the avenue, on the east end of the present Goodwin lot. There, a large elm tree on a rise of ground might well memorialize the place where this tragedy of Hartford's early history was enacted.
The usual place of punishment for minor offenses was in the meeting-house yard. Near the church were the stocks, the pillory and the whipping-post. The stocks was a timber frame in the holes of which the feet, or feet and hands of criminals, were confined. In the pillory, the head and hands were held, the victim being often compelled to stand. To the whipping-post the criminal was fastened while the lash was applied. All these punishments were very common. It was not so much the pain as the disgrace that was depended on for correction. On lecture day, just before the ringing of the first bell, the criminal was put in the stocks or pillory, where the congregation could see him. The passer-by sometimes railed at him, and the children pointed their fingers at him. An old writer says, "The jeers of a theatre, - the pillory and the whipping-post are very near akin."
At first, the Colony had no jail. Prisoners may have been committed to the keeping of William Ruscoe. On April 10,
1 Hutchinson's History, II: 17. 2 Hartford Land Records, 2: 228.
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1640, the General Court passed the following vote: "For- asmuch as many stubborne & refractory Persons are often taken wthin these libertyes, and no meet place yet prepared for the detayneing & keepeing of such to their due & deserued punishment, It is therefore Ordered that there shall be a house of Correction built, of 24 foote long & 16 or 18 foote broad, wth a Cellar, ether of wood or stonne, according as Mr. Talcotte, Ed: Stebing, Tho: Ford and James Boosy shall Thinke meete, who are chosen by the Courte to lette out the worke, appoynt out the place & to order and directe whatsoeuer occations and businesses that may fall out for the compleate finishing the said house, wch is to be done by the nexte Courte, in September." The committee located this edifice in the northeast corner of the yard, north of the meeting-house. This was long known as "the prison lot." Here they erected a building, variously called a "house of correction," "jail" or "prison." The repairs made upon it indicate that it was of wood. In 1652, Richard Goodman and John Pratt were appointed "for carrying on the neces- sary worke about the prison house." The amount to be expended suggests extensive improvements, or a new build- ing. An addition was ordered in 1664, which William Wadsworth and Joseph Fitch were to erect at the Colony's expense. A well was provided in 1692. The lot was enclosed with pales, and some prisoners were given the freedom of this yard. Such inmates as could, maintained themselves in prison. In 1647, William Ruscoe was given 40s. toward his charges for keeping inmates. Some prisoners took with them such articles of furniture as they needed. Others found very poor and uncomfortable lodgings on the floor, or in a prisoner's bunk. Nathaniel Greensmith had there "One Bed well filled," "One Boulster," "One Rugg, one Blan- kett" and "Two Blanketts," valued at £6 10s. The cellar was utilized for dungeons. Prisoners were kept there in gyves or fettered with chains. In 1679, Henry Green of Farmington, a murderer, died there, and William Edwards was paid two shillings for his burial. Others, doubtless, died in prison at various times. These would most likely have been buried in the prison yard, according to custom. In the author's opinion, the graves discovered on this lot
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some years ago were those of prisoners. Daniel Garret succeeded William Ruscoe as keeper in 1654, and continued in office many years. The annual salary was £10. In 1690, Evan Davy was the keeper. He was succeeded the next year by Thomas Hancox, who also had a long term of service.
This early house of correction, with the alterations of nearly sixty years, must have presented an interesting ap- pearance towards the close of the seventeenth century. Within that low rambling building, many prisoners of all sorts had been confined. Some of them made their escape. One of these was the Niantic Indian Moween, charged with murdering a Pequot girl.1 In 1664, John Scott took his leave, without paying Daniel Garret for twelve weeks diet.2 William Mathews, convicted of rape and sentenced to death, made his escape in 1693, by the assistance of William Wright, an Indian, and John Rogers Jr. of New London. The confederates were arrested and imprisoned. The latter was also charged with the burning of New London's meeting- house.3 They were allowed at times to walk at liberty, for which the keeper was censured by the Governor and Council. This prison edifice could not have been very secure, except for criminals in chains or confined in its dungeons. In 1698 the need of a new building was recognized, for which the old site was used. The Court of Assistants authorized Captain Joseph Whiting, treasurer of the Colony, and Captain Wil- liam Whiting, high sheriff, to provide materials for such a building and do the work at the public expense. The size of this structure is unknown. It was larger than the old prison, and perhaps partly of brick. Three years later, the General Assembly ordered that it be maintained by a rate levied by the County Court. The keeper was then allowed 4s. "for comitment of a prisoner and discharge" and 2s. 6d. a week for the "diet." Many an interesting tale gathers about this prison, often called "Hartford Gaol." In 1722, it was the scene of the famous Hartford Riot, on account of land disputes in the Hop River country. The keeper, Thomas Meakins, refusing to release Captain Jeremiah Fitch of
1 Conn. Col. Ree., II: 178, 188, 196, 197 n., 213, 232.
2 Ibid., I: 436.
3 State Archives: Crimes and Misdemeanors, I: 197-201.
1
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Norwich, the door was burst open and all the prisoners escaped.1 Here some of the Separatists were confined during that religious controversy. On a lecture day in November 1743, Rev. Elnathan Whitman preached a sermon "per- vious to ye execution of Jack and Kate, two negroes ye one condemned to die for a rape ye other for murdering her child." 2 Perhaps executions at that time were conducted in the jail yard. John Barnard was then the keeper. During Revolutionary times the gallows stood near the junction of Zachary's Lane, now Vernon Street, and Rocky Hill. The place was called "Gallows Hill." 3 Indeed, the criminal history of that period, which is associated with this prison, would fill a volume and give no very favorable impression of the times.
Meanwhile, a more economical and reformative treat- ment of certain classes of offenders had found favor. The courts had recognized from the first the wholesome influence of work upon the wayward. It was ordered for some, under masters. In certain instances, it was conducted in the prison. The evils of the times now demanded a work- house. During the first quarter of the eighteenth century, "rogues, vagabonds, sturdy beggars, and other lewd, idle, dissolute, profane and disorderly persons" increased. In 1727, the General Assembly recited these conditions, when a law was enacted providing for a Colony work-house. To this institution the above classes could be committed. The insane, also, could be sent there, and, in 1730, persons sen- tenced to perpetual confinement were transferred to it. A master was to have charge, and conduct the work done by the inmates. Each of them was allowed two-thirds of his earnings to pay for support and necessary materials. The court might apply all one's earnings to maintain his family. To further the self-support of this work-house, overseers were appointed in 1737. At the same time, the year 1741
1 Conn. Col. Rec., VI: 332, 333, 341, 375; em. Hist. of Hartford County, I: 78; Dr. J. Hammond Trumbull, in the Hartford Evening Press, Oct. 1860.
2 Wadsworth's Diary, p. 106; Hartford County Court Papers in State Library. The indictments in these as in other similar cases charged that they had been "instigated by the Devil."
3 The Hartford Times, Aug. 8, 1890.
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was named as the limit of this experiment.1 The original act located this institution in Hartford, if the town or pro- prietors provided land for the purpose. Accordingly, on July 8, 1729, John Edwards conveyed to Nathaniel Stanley, John Austin and John Skinner, a committee of the town, "for ye use of ye Inhabitants and proprietors," a triangular piece of land containing one-half acre, located on the west side of Trumbull Street .? It was originally the northeast corner of Thomas Stanton's home-lot, and is the present site of the Case, Lockwood and Brainard Company building. The above committee were named by the General Assembly to erect thereon a building "of fifty foot in length and thirty-two foot in breadth and fourteen foot between joynts." It stood length-ways on Trumbull Street. To prevent the escape of prisoners and facilitate the work, a yard was made about it in 1737. The Court records give the names and offenses of some who were confined in this work-house. It failed to become self-supporting and, in 1742, the General Assembly authorized the Hartford County Court to transfer its inmates to the common gaol, north of the square, to be kept and employed there as in the work- house.3
This institution was revived in 1750, by the law that appears in the revision of that date providing for county work-houses. The old building was put to this use. An additional act in 1753 directed the County Court "to put the same in good repair and order" for this purpose.4 Other counties, which had no building, were not so ready to comply with the law. At this time Hartford County needed a new gaol. On February 13, 1753, the court therefore ordered the crection of one "near the south end of the work-house," and authorized the sale of its interest in the prison lot or old gaol.5 This plan was accomplished. Thus the building
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