The Medical Doctor Who Triggered the Salem Witch Trials of 1692

The crisis known as the Salem witch trials was a small-scale tragedy compared to the large Scottish and English witch-hunts of the seventeenth century. But it was the worst witch-hunt in American history. It lasted over a year, spreading to over twenty-five different communities. More than 150 people were arrested, and nineteen were executed by hanging. In mid-February 1692, when strange afflictions were happening to two young girls in the house of the village minister, a doctor named William Griggs diagnosed the “Evil Hand” as the cause. It was this diagnosis that helped start the Salem witch trials. There is little historical information about Dr. Griggs, but what little there is, is significant. Also important are historians’ assessments of his medical competence and moral character.

The Reverend John Hale wrote the only eye-witness account of the circumstances that led to Griggs’s diagnosis: “Mr. Samuel Paris, Pastor of the Church in Salem-Village, had a Daughter of Nine, and a Neice of about Eleven years of Age, sadly Afflicted of they knew not what Distempers; and he made his application to Physitians, yet still they grew worse: And at length one Physitian gave his opinion that the cause was the Evil Hand,” namely, the devil. Hale did not name the doctor who gave the diagnosis, but historians agree that it was seventy-year-old Dr. William Griggs, who had recently moved to Salem Village and become its first resident doctor.

Figure 1: Rev. Samuel Parris, unidentified artist, miniature portrait, (1670-1680), Massachusetts Historical Society.

Hale’s account implies that the other doctors involved not only examined the children but also attempted to treat their afflictions, and perhaps Griggs did as well. The doctors likely consulted their medical books for symptoms that aligned with what they saw. Griggs himself owned nine medical books and a grinding stone used to mix herbal remedies. Seventeenth-century medical books offered herbal treatments and tinctures for symptoms such as paralysis, apoplexy, and hysteria, which might have appeared to resemble those of the afflicted children. The Reverend Cotton Mather’s book, The Angel of Bethesda: an Essay Upon the Common Maladies of Mankind (1724), presents the following remedy for female fits and hysterical convulsions: “Take the Seeds of Parsnip in Wine, or in proper Water. Take twelve Drops of the Spirit Soot; (or, of [dried human] Blood, or of Harts-horn,) twice a day in an Appropriate Vehicle. This [is] also proposed as, An Excellent Tincture for Hysteric Convulsions. Take of Assa-foetida, or Galbanum, two Ounces; Dissolve them in Spirit of Wine, till a Red Tincture is Extracted. A Scruple of this, is to be taken in two or three Spoonfuls of Mugwort-Water.”

 

Figure 2: “9 fissick books” included in the inventory of the goods of Dr. William Griggs of Salem. American Ancestors, Essex County, MA Probate File Papers 1638 – 1881 Page 11926:2. Volume: Essex Cases 10000-11999.

Most baffling for the doctors was the fact that the children’s symptoms were intermittent; they behaved normally and would suddenly fall into their fits and later recover and act normally. The medical books contained many remedies for paralysis or hysteria caused by unbalanced humors. But the books did not offer remedies for the effects of witchcraft or sorcery, which the girls’ untreatable symptoms seemed to indicate. As Cotton Mather put it, in cases like this, the doctors could not “go to the Devil to fight the Devil.” After the doctors’ failed remedies, the children “still grew worse,” and Griggs made his diagnosis.

The other doctors who were called in by Parris likely came from neighboring towns. The Salem records refer to several, including Dr. William Crosby of Rowley and Dr. John Barton of Salem. As for Dr. Griggs, Samuel Parris was already acquainted with him when both were living in Boston. They each attended the First Church of Boston, where Parris’s uncle had been the minister. Parris was in the process of preparing for the parish ministry under the direction of ministers of the First Church. Griggs and his wife, Rachel, attended the First Church and Rachel was also a church member, and their children were baptized in this church.

Figure 3: First Church of Boston, Erwin F. Faber, 1893, Popular Graphic Arts, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

Hale’s account gives a detailed description of the puzzling symptoms the doctors faced in Salem Village: “These Children were bitten and pinched by invisible agents; their arms, necks, and backs turned this way and that and returned back again, so as it was impossible for them to do of themselves, and beyond the power of any Epileptick Fits, or natural Disease to effect. . . . Sometimes they were taken dumb their mouths stopped, their throats choaked, their limbs wracked and tormented so as might move an heart of stone, to sympathize with them, with bowels of compassion for them . . . they were in all things afflicted as bad as John Goodwin’s Children at Boston, in the year 1688.”

In the case of the Goodwin children, several doctors were consulted, according to Cotton Mather’s account in his Late Memorable Providences Relating to Witchcrafts and Possessions. Mather’s friend, the locally esteemed Dr. Thomas Oakes, concluded that “nothing but an hellish Witchcraft” was the cause of the children’s afflictions. An Irish washerwoman named Goody Glover was judged to be the culprit. She was arrested, tried, and executed, and the children recovered afterwards.

Figure 4: Title Page of Cotton Mather, Late Memorable Providences Relating to Witchcraft and Possessions (1691). Miscellaneous Items in High Demand, PPOC, Library of Congress, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

Hale’s account goes on to explain the immediate effect that Griggs’s diagnosis had on the village community: “This the Neighbours quickly took up, and concluded they [the afflicted girls] were bewitched.” The neighbors’ reaction was significant because a conflict had recently arisen over Samuel Parris’s ministry. The conflict led the village council to attempt to dismiss Parris from the village by cutting off his supply of firewood, stopping the payment of his salary, and questioning his ownership of the village parsonage. Parris’s neighbors likely suspected that the girls’ afflictions were caused by a witchcraft attack upon the Parris family. Parris had already preached a series of dark sermons about the devil operating in the village. In early January 1692, shortly before Griggs’s diagnosis, Parris declared from the pulpit that “Christ having begun a new work, it is the main drift of the Devil to pull it all down.” Attacking the girls in Parris’s house seemed part of Satan’s plan.

Following Griggs’s diagnosis, Parris summoned the local magistrates and religious authorities for their support. Hale reports that the local clergy who had “enquired diligently into the Sufferings of the Afflicted, concluded they were preternatural, and feared the hand of Satan was in them.” Griggs’s pronouncement of the “Evil Hand” triggered a three-part process that required physicians, magistrates, and the clergy to become involved. Griggs’s diagnosis was a necessary first step, but it alone was not a sufficient cause for the trials. Had the court found no one guilty, the process would have stopped. When the court of Oyer and Terminer made its first conviction, which was followed by an execution, the governor asked the leading Boston ministers to give their authorization. As the representative of the Boston clergy, Cotton Mather, though he cautioned against some of the unreliable “specter” evidence involved in the accusations, forwarded the church’s endorsement for a “speedy and vigorous Prosecution.”

Figure 5: Salem Witch Trial. Joseph E. Baker, ca. 1837-1914, artist., Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

Soon after the attack on the girls in Parris’s house, two other village girls became afflicted: twelve-year-old Ann Putnam, daughter of Thomas Putnam of the influential Putnam clan, and seventeen-year-old Elizabeth Hubbard, grandniece of Dr. Griggs’s wife, Rachel Hubbard Griggs. The attack on Dr. Griggs’s niece Elizabeth was possibly caused by her fear that her uncle had attracted the devil’s revenge by naming the devil as the cause of the girls’ afflictions. The attack on young Hubbard no doubt greatly strengthened the doctor’s conviction.

Today’s historians have little to say about Griggs beyond a few basic facts, the most important being the likely acquaintance between Parris and Griggs in Boston—hence Parris’s choice of Griggs to give the diagnosis. Given the scant information about Griggs, contemporary historians have avoided making moral judgments and assessments of his professional competency. But earlier historians were free with their opinions. Charles Upham, writing in 1867, suggested that Griggs’s generation of doctors offered witchcraft diagnoses to cover up their failed remedies: “They gave countenance and currency to the idea of witchcraft in the public mind, and were very generally in the habit, when a patient did not do well under their prescriptions, of getting rid of all difficulty by saying that an ‘evil hand’ was upon him.” In other words, a witchcraft diagnosis was a coverup for a doctor’s incompetence. But all professions have legitimate limits to their explanatory powers, and for the medical profession in seventeenth-century New England, that limit was perceived to be the difference between the “natural” and the “unnatural” or unknown.

In 1916, Andover historian Harriet Tapley wrote that Griggs was a weak-minded man who, she hoped, felt remorse in his old age: “For how much of this [tragedy] Dr. Griggs was responsible, it is not unjust to state that a large share of the subsequent heartaches might with propriety be laid at his door.” Moreover, “It is quite probable . . . after the trouble had blown over, perhaps his [Griggs’s] conscience may have been awakened to a sense of the part he had taken in the affair, and remorse may have attacked this weak old man.”

Did Griggs feel remorse? We do not know. Did the government or the courts express remorse when the trials were over? Governor William Phips closed the trial court in late 1692 and reported to his overseers in London that the whole tragedy was due to the great “delusion of ye Devil.” Remorse was not involved. The elderly, church-going Griggs might well have approved.

Portrait of Gov. William Phips, The Miriam and Ira D. Wallach Division of Art, Prints and Photographs: Print Collection, The New York Public Library. “Sir William Phips.” New York Public Library Digital Collections. Accessed November 11, 2025.

In 1949, freelance writer Marion Starkey pointed out in The Devil in Massachusetts that Samuel Parris owned a copy of Cotton Mather’s Memorable Providences, an account of witchcraft among the Goodwin children in Boston in 1688. Starkey also states that “the Parrises may have also had first-hand experience of the case, since they appear to have been living in Boston at the time.” She suggests that “the little girls might even have been taken [by Parris] to see the hanging.” No professional historian would make such a speculation today, but it is possible that the children in the Parris household overheard the adults talking about witchcraft and the hanging. The execution of Goody Glover on Boston Common in 1688 was the first witchcraft hanging in Boston in over thirty years. Griggs and his family were also in Boston when Dr. Oakes made his “hellish Witchcraft” diagnosis, and Griggs might have become interested. We do not know whether Griggs or Parris attended the hanging, but just knowing about such a remarkable event taking place in the town where they were living may have influenced Parris’s choice of Griggs to make the key diagnosis.

In 1998, Dr. Anthony S. Patton, who was Chief of Thoracic and Vascular Surgery in Salem Hospital for many years, wrote an important biographical sketch of Griggs containing new information about his grand jury work and the state of the medical profession in seventeenth-century New England. As a practicing physician, Patton became interested in Griggs’s medical competence and moral character. He asked the question: Did Griggs simply give a conventional medical diagnosis of the Evil Hand? Or should he have known better and followed the lead of more educated doctors in Boston, such as Thomas Thacher, whose treatments for smallpox and measles were based on the scientific work of the English doctor Thomas Sydenham.

Patton concluded that Griggs was clearly a doctor of his time, practicing like most other New England doctors. Patton also asked whether Griggs “had to know of the possible consequences of his diagnosis.” This question, like those of Upham and Tapley, relies on the benefit of historical hindsight, which Griggs did not have. John Hale emphasizes that Griggs and the other doctors were called in at the first stage of the Salem episode, which concerned only the two girls in Parris’s house: “[The] beginning of which [the Salem case] was very small, and looked on at first as an ordinary case which had fallen out before at several times in other places, and would be quickly over.” It seems clear that Hale saw the outbreak in the Parris house as similar to the small-scale Goodwin case.

On the other hand, Patton notes that Griggs “could have protested or halted his niece’s damaging and continuing testimony against innocent people.” This seems plausible. If Griggs had any misgivings at all, he might have controlled his young grandniece, Elizabeth Hubbard, and stopped her from making dozens of accusations. But the fact that Hubbard often became afflicted in Griggs’s house and, according to the records, at least once in her uncle’s presence, likely strengthened the doctor’s conviction.

Curiously, Griggs played no further role once the legal process began. A search of all 950 digitized court records does not turn up his name in any of the examinations, depositions, or grand jury hearings. But as the new doctor in Salem Village and an acquaintance of Samuel Parris, Griggs may have considered it both responsible and beneficial to assist Parris in this critical moment. Two years later, it is also clear that Griggs had firmly aligned himself with the pro-Parris, pro-witch-hunt faction in the village. He helped Parris’s friend and supporter, Thomas Putnam Jr., in his attempt to contest his stepmother’s will, which gave her large fortune to her son, Putnam’s stepbrother, who was aligned with the anti-Parris, anti-witch-hunt faction.

In placing judgment upon Griggs, it is also useful to consider, as Patton does, the state of the medical profession in New England at the time. There were no medical schools, training programs, or qualifying exams. Training was informal, and men apprenticed themselves to an established doctor and became acquainted with the medical books that described hundreds of herbal treatments for common illnesses. Although Griggs was literate and read medical books, Patton noticed in the documents that he was unable to write and signed his name with a mark.

In 1697, the Massachusetts government decided to accept responsibility for the Salem tragedy and issue a formal apology. A recent series of setbacks in the province—crop failures, a large outbreak of smallpox, and repeated losses in battles against the Native Americans—were believed to have been God’s punishments for the injustice of the Salem trials. The government’s apology, however, was perfunctory and mainly blamed Satan. Samuel Sewall, one of the trial judges, was asked to write it. His statement referred to “Mistakes” that were “fallen into” regarding the “late Tragedie” caused by “Satan and his Instruments, through the awful Judgment of God; He would humble us therefore and pardon all the Errors of his Servants and People that desire to Love his Name.”

Figure 7: Portrait of Samuel Sewall, The Miriam and Ira D. Wallach Division of Art, Prints and Photographs: Print Collection, The New York Public Library. “Samuel Sewall.” New York Public Library Digital Collections. Accessed November 11, 2025.

Yet Sewall himself delivered one of the most outstanding personal apologies in early American history. He stood up in his pew and bowed his head before the congregation while his minister, the Reverend Samuel Willard, read his apology and confession of guilt. Referring to himself, Sewall said in part: “Samuel Sewall being sensible, that as to the Guilt contracted . . .  he is, upon many accounts more concerned than any he knows of, Desires to take the Blame and the Shame of it.” It is difficult to imagine Dr. Griggs doing the same.

The foreman of the Salem jury, which handed down all the convictions, waffled about the jury’s taking full responsibility, saying that the jury had lacked the “knowledge in ourselves to deal with this sort of evidence” and that it was “sadly deluded and mistaken.” Mistakes were admitted, but taking moral responsibility was not in the mindset at the time. Again, Griggs might well have concurred. Sewall, however, showed that taking “the Blame and the Shame” for his role in the horrendous tragedy could be done. His courageous act is celebrated today in a large mural in the Massachusetts State House.

Figure 8: Mural in the Massachusetts House Chamber, 1697: The Dawn of Tolerance in Massachusetts: Public Repentance of Judge Samuel Sewall for his Action in the Witchcraft Trials, Albert Herter, 1942. https://www.mass.gov/news/the-salem-witchcraft-trials.

Patton also draws attention to a major change that was taking place in the English medical world in the mid-1600s due to the work of the prominent doctor Thomas Sydenham. Sydenham’s medical principles were those of observation, diagnosis, and experiential treatment. Could Griggs have read any of Sydenham’s books in Massachusetts in 1692? The books were originally published in Latin, which the unschooled Griggs could not read, and were first translated into English at the end of the century, after Griggs had died. In Sydenham’s Enlightenment medical environment, there was no place for the occult or witchcraft diagnoses. The “preternatural” was no longer a diagnostic category. As Patton points out, there was “a clear contrast between the training and thinking of the time in Europe and the lack of training and apparent lack of support in New England for scientific medical training.”

In the 1996 film version of Arthur Miller’s play, The Crucible, Dr. Griggs examines Ann Putnam Jr., who cannot be wakened from her sleep. He tells her parents, “I fear there be no medicine for this; I have seen nothing like it before. There be no fever nor wound . . . and yet she sleeps.” Ann’s mother asks if the devil is to blame, and Griggs replies cautiously, “I shall do all I can Goody Putnam . . . but this may be a sickness beyond my art.” Thomas Putnam intervenes, declaring that there are “evil spirits about the village,” and urges Parris to tell the people the truth. Parris responds: “Not yet! I need time; I must think; I must pray.” Griggs agrees with Parris and decides not to reveal his diagnosis to anyone in order to give Parris time to gain control of the situation. After leaving the Putnam house, Griggs tells a crowd of onlookers that there is no witchcraft involved. Miller portrays Griggs as a weak-minded figure, willing to compromise his profession for Parris’s purposes.

Figure 9: Dr. Griggs at the bedside of Ann Putnam, Jr. as portrayed by Peter Maloney in the 1996 film The Crucible. Fandom CC-BY-SA https://historica.fandom.com/wiki/William_Griggs.

Similarly, the historical Griggs accommodated Samuel Parris with the diagnosis he wanted, but unforeseeably the diagnosis turned the village conflict over his ministry into a witch-hunt against people who were supposedly Christ’s enemies in the village. Griggs, however, remains an obscure figure, despite his consequential role which helped to propel a divided community into a tragic conflict that is still remembered, studied, and dramatized today.

Further Reading: Anthony S. Patton, M.D., A Doctor’s Dilemma: William Griggs & the Salem Witch Trials. (Salem: The Salem Witch Museum, 1998.); Katherine Knight, Secrets of the 17th Century Medicine Cabinet (Gloucestershire: The History Press, 2024).

 

This article originally appeared in February 2026


Benjamin Ray is the Daniels Family, NEH Distinguished Teaching Professor, Department of Religious Studies, Emeritus, University of Virginia. He is the author of Satan and Salem: The Witch-Hunt Crisis of 1692 (Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2015), an associate editor of Records of the Salem Witch-Hunt, gen. ed. Bernard Rosenthal  (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), and Director of The Salem Witch Trials Digital Archive.