Jonathan Corwin's House, Salem

Leaving Danvers (Salem Village) behind, I wound my way back into Salem, stopping at Proctor’s Ledge Memorial. A feeling of quiet solemnity washed over me as I stood atop this small, rocky hill. The ledge is tucked behind a row of houses in Pope Street, and if you didn’t know its significance, it wouldn’t mean anything to anyone passing by. There is no visitor centre, nor crowds of tourists. It’s just a small clearing, up a short path with moss-covered rocks, trees and a stretch of grass. 

A curved granite wall is the only indicator of its history, each stone engraved with the names of those hanged and the dates of their hangings: Sarah Good, John Proctor, Bridget Bishop, and the other sixteen. As I stood here taking in the names and the dates, I pondered their stories. I imagined the crowd once gathered here at the base of the ledge, murmuring, praying and the silence that must have followed each execution. 

Today it’s quiet, cars humming in the distance, birds trilling in the nearby trees. I take a moment to pay my respects and feel thankful that we’ve learned from the past — it’s strange to think how things that once seemed right make no sense to us now. I see how fragile reason can be, and I know how important remembrance is, and that is what I shall carry with me as I continue toward Judge Corwin’s house.

Judge Corwin’s house, now known as the Witch House, is a grey, double-storey home with an attic, a steeply pitched gabled roof, and small, diamond-paned leaded glass windows. Its asymmetrical front façade makes it a fine example of 17th-century New England architecture. It was here that Judge Jonathan Corwin, a wealthy merchant and respected magistrate, conducted his business.

Jonathan Corwin was born in Salem in 1640, just two years after his father arrived in the colonies. He followed his father into the shipbuilding trade and later married Elizabeth Gibbs, a widow. Together, they raised ten children, as was common in Puritan families, both to help with work and to cope with the high child mortality rates of the time. He was known for his sound judgment and legal knowledge, holding various civic roles before being called on to investigate the growing reports of witchcraft in Salem.

In April 1692, warrants were issued for Bridget Bishop, Mary Warren, Giles Corey, and Abigail Hobbs. One by one, they were brought before magistrates Jonathan Corwin and John Hathorne, who were charged with questioning the accused and recording their statements. I could picture Corwin and Hathorne, listening intently, weighing every word, aware of the fear and suspicion swirling through the town. 

But a problem was simmering beneath the surface because Massachusetts didn’t have a functioning government. Their earlier charter had been revoked years earlier, and without a replacement, their ability to conduct trials legally remained uncertain. At most, the magistrates could arrest and jail suspects. 

This uncertainty ended a month later, when Governor William Phips arrived from England with a new charter and quickly established the Court of Oyer and Terminer to handle the growing number of accusations. Corwin was not part of the original panel. When Judge Nathaniel Saltonstall resigned in protest after the first execution, Corwin was called to take his place. Bridget Bishop, the first to be tried under this court, would also become the first to hang. For Corwin, it marked the start of his most notorious role in Salem.

I have to wonder how Corwin may have perceived his role in all of this. There are far too few records outside official documents to give any insight into his personal reflections. Unlike some of his fellow judges, such as Nathaniel Saltonstall, there is no evidence that he ever expressed doubt or regret about the trials. It is possible that Corwin saw his actions as part of his duty as a magistrate and member of a devout Puritan community, rather than as a moral dilemma, thereby viewing his role as enforcing the law and protecting the community from perceived witchcraft.

Today, the Witch House stands as a museum, offering a glimpse into everyday 17th-century life, and it is the only building in Salem still standing with a direct connection to the witch trials.