Historical Fiction and the Classroom: History and Myth in Elizabeth George Speare's The Witch of Blackbird Pond

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0045-6713/03/0900-0195/0 � 2003 Human Sciences Press, Inc.

Children’s Literature in Education, Vol. 34, No. 3, September 2003 (� 2003)

Sara L. SchwebelSara L. Schwebel is aPh.D. candidate in theHistory of AmericanCivilization at HarvardUniversity and a formereighth-grade Americanhistory teacher. Shefirst became captivatedby The Witch of Black-bird Pond in Mrs. Mark-ham’s fifth-grade class atColumbus School forGirls (Columbus, OH).She is coauthor of TheStudent Teacher’sHandbook, 4th Edition,and author of YaleDaily News Guide toSummer Programs.

Historical Fiction and theClassroom: History and Mythin Elizabeth George Speare’sThe Witch of Blackbird Pond

First published in 1958, Elizabeth George Speare’s Newbery award-winning novel The Witch of Blackbird Pond remains an immenselypopular teaching tool in U.S. social studies classrooms today.Speare’s story—which describes the challenges an orphaned daugh-ter of wealthy Barbadian planters faces when she begins life anewin the Puritan colony of Connecticut in 1687—continues to captureeducators’ attention because it emphasizes themes such as toler-ance of difference, abhorrence of slavery, support of heterodoxy, anda commitment to liberty, justice, and freedom that bolster contem-porary American values. But while literary critics have praised thebook’s historical accuracy, The Witch of Blackbird Pond, like allworks of historical fiction, reinterprets the past. In reinterpreting theevents of 1680s Connecticut, Speare reveals much about the McCar-thy-era 1950s in which she wrote, and indeed, much about the is-sues and concerns capturing 21st-century educators’ attention. Asthis article argues, both teachers and students would benefit fromexamining the ways in which history and myth interact in thenovel, creating a rich commentary on the 17th-century past, the1950s in which Speare wrote, and today’s 21st-century present.

KEY WORDS: historical fiction; history and myth; Elizabeth George Speare; witchhunts.

As Babyboomers have given way to Generations X and Y in the desksof America’s classrooms, much about secondary school education haschanged. Battles over reading instruction have modified pedagogy,while changing trends in academia have influenced the content andapproach of textbooks. Yet despite these changes—and the existenceof a flourishing children’s book industry—certain Young Adult novelshave remained staples in English and social studies curricula acrossthe United States. In particular, educators have extolled the use of

196 Children’s Literature in Education

these popular works of historical fiction as a means to integrate thedisciplines and elicit student interest in a subject often considered adull stream of names, dates, and facts. In a resource guide for second-ary school social studies teachers, for example, educator Elizabeth F.Howard recommends that teachers first introduce students to histori-cal periods, personalities, and problems through fiction, then throughtraditional historical narrative. In the face of widespread student apa-thy and ignorance about American history, she writes, “Students needto see that history is alive. This will happen when they are able tothink of history first of all as story” (1998, p. xi). Both Howard’s iden-Elizabeth F. Howard,

America as Story: His-torical Fiction for Sec-ondary Schools

tification of the problem and recommended solution reverberatethrough the education literature, and her logic fits within a larger,interdisciplinary scholarship that agrees that humans, and particularlymodern humans, construct meaning through narrative, telling, read-ing, and listening to stories. Yet fiction has no monopoly on storytell-ing; Howard and others obscure the fact that the “boring historytexts” students reject also contain narrative. Nevertheless, their largerpoint holds. While both the authors of historical fiction and writers ofhistorical narratives comb the tangible traces of the past, striving tounderstand and accurately explain the thoughts, feelings, and actionsof distant people, they work with different constraints and strive to-ward unique goals. These differences have profound implications forteaching historical fiction in the context of a secondary school historyclass.

The availability of evidence places certain limits on historical narra-tive, which must both document conclusions and explain the processby which they were formed. Because the historical record always con-tains gaps, nonfictional history must embrace some ambiguity, set-tling, in the absence of conclusive evidence, for what Richard Slotkin(2001) has termed an “average truth.” As they check and double checkRichard Slotkin, lecture,

Harvard University their sources, historians cannot prevent their knowledge of present-day society from coloring what they see and unintentionally filling inthe holes; nevertheless, historians attempt to block contemporaryconcerns from shaping their narratives. In short, they pledge—to thebest of their ability and within the limits of their evidence—to reveal“truth.” Novelists, in contrast, promise a good story. While historicalfiction writers strive for authenticity in their overall portrayal of his-torical actors and events, they prioritize a sense of historical realityover documentable accuracy. Thus, writers of historical fiction con-dense time, add and delete historical actors, and endow incidentswith more or less significance than they actually held at the time oftheir occurrence. Whatever the alterations they make, historical nov-elists must treat real historical events and their fictive creations identi-cally, for both are “real” within the narrative universe of their story.

History and Myth in The Witch of Blackbird Pond 197

Scholars have argued that narratives provide insight into the acceptednorms of society, revealing the ways in which people understand, em-brace, and resist the dominant culture. As a particular kind of narra-tive, historical fiction encompasses not only an understanding of con-temporary society but also an interpretation of history that makessuch an understanding possible. When aimed at children or youngadults, historical fiction must additionally accomplish these goals in amanner that meets with adult approval, particularly that of educated,middle-class buyers. The works of Young Adult historical fiction thathave culled adult favor most successfully have been taught in Ameri-can classrooms for decades. While budgetary constraints and teacherpreference play important roles in curriculum decisions, texts as-signed year after year must nonetheless bear pressure for innovationfrom professional educators, school administrators, and parents onboth sides of the political spectrum. Standards change, both in termsof skill sets emphasized in each grade level and in terms of behaviorsand attitudes deemed lacking—and therefore necessary to cultivate—in young American citizens. Those books retained from one reformcycle to the next sustain their popularity not only because of thequality and content of their narratives but also because of their abilityto transcend the specific context of their creation to grapple withhistorical problems in a way that continues to hold explanatorypower in the twenty-first century.

Elizabeth George Speare’s Young Adult novel The Witch of BlackbirdPond exemplifies the genre. First published in 1958, this Newberyaward-winning story about Connecticut in the 1680s received highacclaim at the time of its release, and as hundreds of classroom Websites and dozens of education publications attest, it continues to beone of the most widely taught books in public and private schoolstoday. At the time of Speare’s death in 1994, obituaries noted that hernovels, including The Witch of Blackbird Pond, “have continued to“Elizabeth George

Speare, children’s bookauthor, dies

be required reading in classrooms across the country.” Yet, despiteSpeare’s popularity and three Newbery Medals (The Witch of Black-bird Pond, 1958; The Bronze Bow, 1961; The Sign of the Beaver,1983), she remains relatively unknown outside educational circles today.Her obscurity is unfortunate for both the thousands of schoolchildrenreading her book and for the American community at large. In thefollowing pages I discuss the way Speare’s meticulous historical researchfuses with powerful American myth; illustrate—through a close readingof The Witch of Blackbird Pond—how Speare’s reinterpretation of colo-nial Connecticut reveals much about the 1950s moment in which shewrote; and finally, offer suggestions about how teachers might use TheWitch of Blackbird Pond not only to explore colonial history, but also tohelp students understand the historical project itself.


History and Myth in The Witch of Blackbird Pond

A close reading of The Witch of Blackbird Pond provides a glimpse ofthe grand historical narrative American educators have favored forchildren born after the Second World War. By comparing Speare’s in-terpretation of the past with that outlined by historians, readers candeduce both those values the dominant society hopes to transmit toits young as well as those historic truths it wishes to shield from theireyes. The Witch of Blackbird Pond is in many ways a traditional com-Elizabeth George

Speare, The Witch ofBlackbird Pond

ing-of-age story, incorporating elements of the fairy tale.1 Like thechild heroes of many nineteenth-century novels, 16-year-old Katherine(Kit) Tyler is an orphan who must make her way in a world in whichall the rules seem to have been changed. Having been raised by awealthy, permissive grandfather on the prosperous island of Barbados,Kit arrives in Puritan New England penniless to find that her uncleexpects her to complete tasks “a high-class slave in Barbados wouldrebel at” (p. 78). By the novel’s end, Kit has learned to respect andeven admire her uncle and, perhaps more importantly, she has fallenin love with a New Englander and all that he represents. Speare’s taletranscends these juvenile literary genres, however, incorporating pat-terns of the Frontier Myth prevalent in adult American fiction. Whilehistorical in nature, myths differ from history in that they encompassincomplete, simplified, and often idealized versions of the past. Emi-nently malleable, they change in subtle ways to serve the needs of thepresent. Thus, as historian Richard Slotkin has shown, the FrontierRichard Slotkin, Regen-

eration Through Vio-lence: The Mythology ofthe American Frontier,1600–1890; The FatalEnvironment: TheMyth of the Frontier inthe Age of Industrializ-ation, 1800–1890;Gunfighter Nation: TheMyth of the Frontier inTwentieth-CenturyAmerica

Myth—which comprises cycles of separation from settled community,regression into the wilderness, and a violent but ultimately trium-phant clash with Indians—appears in literature as early as the seven-teenth century and as recent as the twentieth. Like the mythical fron-tierswoman, Kit may find New England winters and Puritan moralityforbidding, but she emerges from her trial a stronger, wiser woman.Mirroring the larger cycle of American settlement, Kit leaves the cos-mopolitan and populous society of Barbados to reside in what sheterms a “mere settlement,” whose shore “looked scarcely differentfrom the miles of unbroken forest” (pp. 26, 29). In coming to Con-necticut, Kit trades silk dresses and elite status as the granddaughterof a man knighted by King Charles for plain calico and the everydaydrudgery of a middling Puritan family member. In accordance withthe Frontier Myth, her physical and economic regression into the wil-derness proves character building; Kit emerges from the ordeal strongenough to build her own future and fortune.

Both myth and history evolve as authors rewrite narrative in waysmeaningful to contemporary audiences. Because The Witch of Black-bird Pond (1958) emanates from a particular moment in Americanhistory—post-McCarthy America—an examination of how Speare en-


gages the present in her reinterpretation of the past is critical to un-covering the novel’s meaning. Rehistoricizing the mythic elements inThe Witch of Blackbird Pond plays a central role in this process. AsRichard Slotkin has argued, the ideas and stories that form myth de-rive from historical reality, but after becoming simplified and ab-stracted through retelling, gain nuance and meaning specific to thecontext of each repetition (1985, pp. 15–20). By contextualizing bothRichard Slotkin, The

Fatal Environment:The Myth of the Fron-tier in the Age of In-dustrialization, 1800–1890

the creation and continual shaping and reshaping of myth, one gainsaccess to the problems—and potential solutions—faced by society atthe particular moment it chooses to utilize myth. Rehistoricizing ele-ments of The Witch of Blackbird Pond’s narrative, therefore, givesreaders insight into 1950s America. Speare places Kit’s arrival atWethersfield, Connecticut, in April of 1687. Although the AmericanRevolution still lies 89 years in the future, Speare’s incorporation ofthe Frontier Myth transforms Kit’s trials into a stimulus that forgesAmerican identity. The American Kit becomes, however, is neither theNew Englander of the 1680s nor the patriot of the 1770s. Rather, it isa young woman who embodies those ideals American liberals of the1950s defined as quintessentially American. An intelligent, educatedwoman, Kit stretches her mind while straining her muscles in heraunt and uncle’s domestic economy. By the end of her year in Weth-ersfield, Kit has renounced the sin of slavery, learned the significanceof religious tolerance, and discovered the true meaning of liberty andfreedom. In short, she has become an archetypical American hero.

Regeneration Through Politics

In his trilogy exploring the myth of the American frontier, RichardSlotkin outlines a process he terms “regeneration through violence.”Present in literary works dating back to King Philip’s War, regenera-tion through violence involves an understanding of American Indiansas savages who prevent the formation of a perfect Christian republic.Colonists believed the coexistence of Europeans and Indians in theNew World impossible, so Native American resistance sparked an all-out fight for survival. But settlers did not view their relations withIndians in entirely negative terms. Central to the myth of perfectibilitywas the idea that Europeans must regress to primitive Indian ways inorder to purge their own culture of false values. The trial of livingamong Indians—whether induced by war or captivity—facilitatedcolonists’ spiritual awakening by forcing them to confront the darkcorners of their soul. At the same time, intense exposure to Indianlifestyles enabled Europeans to internalize “savage” strengths and thendestroy native culture on its own turf (1992, pp. 10–16). The protago-Richard Slotkin, Gun-

fighter Nation: TheMyth of the Frontier inTwentieth-CenturyAmerica

nists of Speare’s The Witch of Blackbird Pond would have recognizedtheir involvement in the New World project of regression and re-demption. The central characters—Kit, her Aunt Rachel, Uncle Mat-


thew, and cousins Judith and Mercy, the young men who come court-ing the girls at Uncle Matthew’s house, and the Reverend GershomBulkeley—are all well-educated individuals exposed to heavy doses ofreligious writing in both the Meeting House and familial home.2 Themeaning with which Speare endows their New World myths, how-ever, would have been entirely foreign to them. In both Kit’s journeyto and maturation in Connecticut Colony and divinity student JohnHolbrook’s capture by Indians, Speare converts the mythic “regenera-tion through violence” into a “regeneration through politics,” secu-larizing characters’ redemption and muting—if not erasing—colonial-Indian brutality. The contours of the traditional myth remain, butSpeare drastically reinterprets their meaning to address concerns pe-culiar to the America of the 1950s.

Kit Tyler’s redemption has multiple components, but foremost amongthem is her renunciation of a slaveholding past. This aspect of her“Americanization” involves not only the Frontier Myth but also thefiction of a New England society in which slavery played only a minorrole, if it existed at all. Historian Joanne Pope Melish (1998) has ar-Joanne Pope Melish,

Disowning Slavery:Gradual Emancipationand “Race” in New En-gland, 1780–1860

gued that in a process beginning with New England’s gradual emanci-pation in the 1780s, New Englanders eradicated slavery from theircollective memory. While bolstering claims about a long-cherished,absolute liberty, the erasure also heightened racism by rendering Afri-can Americans’ presence in New England inexplicable and suggestingthat blacks’ low socioeconomic status stemmed from “innate racialqualities,” not past degradation. Firmly entrenched in New Englandby the 1850s, this fiction of a slave-free New England past spreadthroughout the nation following the Civil War. As Southerners as wellas Northerners became “Yankees,” the heritage of a white, liberty-loving New England became the heritage of all America. This trendpartially explains why a book such as The Witch of Blackbird Pond—set in a white, colonial Connecticut that self-consciously distances it-self from the slaveholding South—maintains popularity nationwide.According to American myth, The Witch of Blackbird Pond tells notjust a story of colonial America, but the story of colonial America, astory in which slavery is absent and colonists’ eyes always pointedtoward freedom.

Before she even lands in Wethersfield, Kit learns that slavery and NewEngland are incompatible. On board the Dolphin, Kit complains toNathaniel Eaton, the ship captain’s son, that the stench of horses haspenetrated her dark brown hair. Nat bristles with indignation: “Maybeyou think it would smell prettier with a hold full of human bodies,half of them rotting in their chains before anyone knew they weredead!” Surprised, Kit innocently inquires whether there are not slavesin America. “Yes, to our shame!” Nat explains. “Mostly down Virginia


way” (p. 23). While admitting that there are plenty of wealthy NewEnglanders willing to pay “a fat price for black flesh,” Nat character-izes slavery as a Southern phenomenon and displays a moral repug-nance toward the institution rare if not anachronistic for the BritishNorth America of 1687.3 The historical record shows that shortly afterthe fictional Kit’s arrival in Wethersfield, about 1 in 10 estate invento-ries in Connecticut included slaves.4 Yet, enslaved Africans play norole in Speare’s New England narrative, in part because Kit’s transfor-mation into an American depends on their absence.5 More than anyother factor, slavery shaped Kit’s childhood development in Barbados,and thus the young lady she had become by the time she arrived onConnecticut shores. Because her father and grandfather had made for-tunes in Barbados’ plantation economy, Kit’s parents could afford alife of leisure. When still a baby, Kit lost both her parents when theydrowned “on a pleasure trip to Antigua” (p. 19). But this tragedy aside,wealth made Kit’s childhood pleasant and carefree. On her grand-father’s vast plantation, Kit had a black nursemaid to care for her and“a little African slave” playmate, who for 12 years followed her everystep (p. 37). Because her grandfather owned more than a hundredAfricans, Kit was never called on to contribute to the household econ-omy, and her upbringing was not unusual. Life expectancy was low,family discipline weak, and fortunes quickly made in tropical Bar-bados. As a result, wealthy children knew considerably more freedomthan their counterparts in New England. Kit’s love for her grandfatherand zest for life grew simultaneously.

Having heard Kit describe her education, John Holbrook concludesthat she “just ran wild like a savage and never did any work” (p. 24).His observation is telling. John describes Barbados as a “heathen” is-land, something Kit cannot fathom. “ ’Tis no heathen island,” Kit ex-plains. “ ’Tis as civilized as England, with a famous town and finestreets and shops” (p. 11). The confusion stems not from John’s igno-rance but from his fundamentally different worldview. John, Kit, andSpeare’s modern readers interpret the word “heathen” in three differ-ent ways. For John, a serious divinity student and upright Puritan, theword “heathen” connotes religious dissent—Kit, like the majority ofwealthy Barbadian planters, worships according to the Church of En-gland. Kit’s frivolous activities and gaudy dress illustrate the moraldegradation of the high church. But Kit, naively ignorant of the reli-gious views separating New England from the West Indies, interprets“heathen” to mean uncivilized, or lacking in culture. She thereforedefends her birthplace on economic grounds: the island boasts fineshops where one can purchase, among other things, the silk fineryand silver trinkets filling her seven trunks. Cognizant that Kit acquiredwealth and leisure through the enslavement of Africans, readers inter-pret “heathen” in a third way: lacking moral principles. When John


Holbrook learns that Kit can read effortlessly, he asks her what kind ofbooks she studied with her grandfather. To John, “the proper use ofreading is to improve our sinful nature, and to fill our minds withGod’s holy word” (p. 25). But for Kit—who reads histories, poetry,and plays—books are meant to bring pleasure as well as enlighten-ment. Secular texts expand Kit’s world, but Speare suggests that inBarbados, her tastes were somewhat misguided. The Tempest is thefavorite play of both Kit and her grandfather, and Sir Francis Tylerbelieved that Shakespeare set the play in Barbados, not Bermuda ascommonly accepted. As Kit confidentially informs Nat, she suspectsher grandfather “liked to think of himself as Prospero” (p. 129). Inorder to become an American, Kit must renounce her heritage as aslaveholder and extirpate the imperialistic attitudes that allow for slav-ery’s existence.

Kit’s Americanization program begins almost from the moment of herarrival in Connecticut when Uncle Matthew sternly informs his niece:“you will fit yourself to our ways” (p. 43). In sailing to Wethersfield,Kit exchanges residence in the most cosmopolitan colony of BritishNorth American for a home in the least developed of New England’scolonies.6 Despite the fact that the threat of Indian raids diminishedgreatly after King Philip’s War (1675–1676), the sense of fighting forsurvival in a dangerous wilderness still lingers in Speare’s Wethers-field. When Kit hears a noise in the night and frighteningly asks Judithwhat it could be, her cousin’s heart skips at the thought of Indians,never mind that the sound was only a howling woof. In a place stillconceptualized as wilderness, basic life necessities, including theneed for survival, dominate thinking. Like the other women in herfamily, Kit toils day in and day out. Soap must be made, wool cardedand spun, vegetable gardens weeded, evening meals cooked. As Kitobserves, “work in that household never ceased” (p. 47). With hereyes stinging from the fumes of boiling lye and her fingers blisteringfrom the cooking fire, Kit rebels at the thought that she is doing thework of slaves. But as she submits to the discipline of hard physicallabor, Kit comes to appreciate the virtues of patience, diligence, andself-sacrifice epitomized by her cousin Mercy, who suffered a child-hood illness that left her physically weak and disfigured but emo-tionally as strong as steel. In Puritan America, Kit learns, work, ratherthan leisure, earns the community’s respect.

But three generations removed from the ideals of its original Puritansettlers, Wethersfield offers Kit an alternative to the harsh regime ofphysical labor. William Ashby, Wethersfield’s most eligible bachelor,commands a fortune large enough to hire household servants, and hefinds Kit’s flowered silk dresses and feathered hats captivating. BeforeKit has been in town a week, William seeks her uncle’s permission to


come calling. Kit realizes that marriage to William would free herfrom hard labor and harsh paternal discipline, and she carefully con-siders his offer. But by the time Kit must accept or decline his hand—and the new home, complete with 16 diamond-paned windows, he isbuilding—she has accepted Hannah’s warning: “remember, thee hasnever escaped at all if love is not there” (p. 170).7 While Kit still findswork distasteful, she has ceased to see labor as degrading. In the pro-cess of renouncing slavery and cultural imperialism, Kit adopts theidea that wealth and leisure may be enjoyed, but only if honestlycome by. Ironically, because this realization emerges in dialogue withthe Frontier Myth, the reevaluation of attitudes toward Native Ameri-cans is excluded from her moral and political growth. Like otherAmerican heroes, Kit’s triumph over the New World’s austere condi-tions depends on mastering Indians while internalizing their instincts.Thus, late in the novel, Kit’s “savagery” enables her to save Hannahfrom an angry mob:

In the hoarse shouting and the heedless screaming of the women therewas a mounting violence, and a terror she had never known beforeclosed over Kit’s mind like fog. For a moment her knees sagged and shecaught at the tree for support. Then her mind cleared again, and skirt-ing the square, darting from tree to tree like a savage, she made herway . . . (p. 185, my emphasis)

Kit’s actions reveal her Americanization and show that she now pos-sesses strength to build her own future rather than depending onothers—either by marrying or enslaving—for money. Rather than be-come Mistress Ashby, Kit plans to sell her silk dresses for passage tothe West Indies and support herself as a Barbadian governess. Sheultimately marries Nat instead, but this decision is consistent with herAmericanization. Young Captain Eaton respects her individualism andthe New England tradition of making one’s own way in the world.

While Kit’s journey into the wilderness dominates The Witch ofBlackbird Pond, John Holbrook’s participation in provincial Indianwarfare clarifies the nature of New England forests’ regenerative power.A native of Saybrook, Connecticut, John arrives in Wethersfield on thesame ship as Kit and, like the Barbadian girl, must adjust to new au-thority figures on his arrival. Committed to preparing himself for theministry but unable to afford Harvard tuition, John places himself un-der the tutelage of Wethersfield’s learned Gershom Bulkeley. A manwith unshakable confidence in his own righteousness, Dr. Bulkeleydwarfs the ideas and opinions of his young student.8 As Kit notes withdisappointment, Bulkeley immediate influences John’s demeanor:“One week in Wethersfield seemed to have changed the dignifiedyoung man she had known on shipboard. Tonight he appeared to be ashadow, hanging on every word from this pompous, opinionated


man. Even now he dared not assert himself but held the Bible uncer-tainly in his hands and asked, ‘What would you have me read, sir?’ ”(pp. 62–63). Yet despite his authoritative ways, Bulkeley respectsJohn, recognizing his intellectual aptitude and spiritual commitment.Thus, as long as Bulkeley expounds the secrets of Scripture, revealingman’s inner strength, and demystifies the art of medicine, which healsman’s physical being, John devours his lessons. Problems arise, how-ever, when his mentor’s teachings turn to politics.

John and Kit’s arrival at Wethersfield coincided with a political crisisof notable proportion. As royal involvement in colonial administrationgrew, Connecticut leaders debated what form their relationship withthe King should take. These discussions play prominently in TheWitch of Blackbird Pond, but in order to emphasize the process ofAmericanization, Speare endows the colony’s 1680s factional disputewith revolutionary significance. This only exacerbates John Hol-brook’s difficulties. In an attempt to make colonial government moreefficient and less costly, the Crown had launched a policy of imperialcentralization in 1676. By uniting all New England under single rule,England could destroy the colonial charters whose provisions of self-government complicated the coordination of defense and regulationof trade. In December 1686, four months before the start of TheWitch of Blackbird Pond, the Crown’s aims had largely been reached.Sir Edmund Andros sat as the royally appointed governor of the Do-minion of New England, and following King James II’s lead, he hadestablished an authoritarian government, abolishing representative in-stitutions, encouraging Anglican Church services, stationing Redcoatsin Boston, and threatening the independence of Harvard College. ButConnecticut Colony lay beyond his control; it still held fast to its char-ter.

As Connecticut men measured the change around them, some recog-nized their limited resources and became critical of their charteredgovernment, wishing instead to join the Dominion. But others sawthe Dominion as a force that would destroy local institutions that per-sonally provided them with power. Connecticut men might have spo-ken passionately about “the rights of Englishmen,” but their politicalleanings often reflected personal interest as much as lofty politicalideals.9 Ultimately, however, the decision of whether to join the Do-minion was out of their hands. After a series of official requests toturn over the charter failed, Andros set off for Hartford, arriving atWethersfield via ferry and proceeding from there to the colony’s prin-cipal city.10 Exactly what happened when Andros arrived at Hartfordthe evening of October 31, 1687, is unclear; the historical recordshows that the charter was placed in front of Andros in the HartfordMeeting House, but after that, history and the “charter oak myth”


blend indistinguishably. Legend holds that the candles illuminating theMeeting House were somehow extinguished. When rekindled, thecharter was gone, supposedly secured in a large, hollow oak tree.11

The issue at stake was not whether Connecticut should break fromthe King but rather what form the colony’s dependence on the Kingshould take. Would Connecticut continue to negotiate trade, landboundaries, and its relationship with the King through an appointedcolonial governor, or would its communications be funneled throughofficials of the Dominion of New England?

Within The Witch of Blackbird Pond, Dr. Gershom Bulkeley and Mat-thew Wood fervently disagree about what actions would best servethe colony’s interests. Speare describes Bulkeley as an avid Royalistwho admires Kit’s status as the granddaughter of a knight. He believes“the men of Connecticut have taken advantage of the King’s gener-osity” and insists that Connecticut relinquish its charter to the King’srepresentatives and join the Dominion, as James II has ordered (p.157). Matthew, in contrast, believes the charter symbolizes Connecti-cut’s status as a free commonwealth. By demanding that Connecticutrelinquish its charter, Matthew argues, Andros makes colonists’ rightsas Englishmen “nothing but a mockery” (pp. 153, 156). Matthew re-fuses to recognize that King James appointed Andros governor ofNew England and endowed him with the power to revoke Connecti-cut’s charter. Bulkeley suggests that such views are traitorous, anopinion that leads Matthew to angrily declare, “there are worse thingsthan revolution” (p. 61). Through such speech Speare directly andintentionally links Connecticut’s 1687 resistance to yield its charterwith eighteenth-century rebellions leading up to the Revolution,thereby suggesting that America’s break from England was inevitable.The explanatory language used by her characters makes this clear.Those men who wish to retain the charter in The Witch of BlackbirdPond have access to language and concepts not yet available to theirreal-life counterparts. When trying to explain the controversy over thecharter to Kit, Nat turns to both realistic nautical metaphor andanachronistic Lockean and Rousseauean tenets for help: “If the Kingrespects our rights and keeps his word to us, then he will retain ourloyalty. But if he revokes the laws he has made and tacks and comesabout till the ship is on her beam ends, then finally we will be forcedto cut the hawser” (p. 129).12 Such ideas—that a social contract gov-erns the relations between ruler and ruled and that people have aright to rebel if that contract is broken—would not be embraced byEnglish Americans until the eve of the Revolution.

Although historically premature, the gravity implicated in Speare’scharter oak incident makes John Holbrook’s political regenerationcomprehensible. As apprentice to Gershom Bulkeley, John subjects


himself to what Matthew and other Wethersfield men consider poi-sonous political views—views that hinge not on personal interests ofmoney and power but on life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.Shortly after the colony submits to Andros and Bulkeley receives aDominion appointment as Justice of the Peace, John experiences acrisis of faith. Can he continue to learn from a man writing treatises insupport of an absolutist government? When Indians attack north ofHadley, John sees in Massachusetts’ troubles a way out of his own. Ina move shocking to Kit, who views John as a mild-mannered book-worm, the divinity student enlists in the militia—as a doctor. John’sinstinct proves correct: military service provides a way to both breakfrom his Royalist mentor and to uncover his own political voice. LikeKit, he experiences redemption when he fully embraces “American”political ideals valued in the 1950s. But the transformative processworks because John regresses to a primitive state in the wilderness,not because he breaks from Bulkeley. Shortly into the military cam-paign, John is captured by ambushing Indians and remains a captivefor many weeks. As John would have interpreted it, the captivityproves a blessing in disguise. While physically weakened on his returnto Wethersfield, John exhibits unparalleled inner strength. Self-as-sured, he has found his political voice during the long, hard weeks ofwaiting. Moreover, he has proved himself worthy of marrying Mercy,who, as her name suggests, is the physically weaker but morally stron-ger of Kit’s first cousins. In a brilliant final touch to his Americaniza-tion, Speare has John renew his studies with Bulkeley on his return.As John explains to Kit’s family, he and his teacher have come to anagreement about the separation of politics and religion within educa-tion: “In politics he is obeying his own conscience, but I think he ismistaken. We have come to an understanding. He will teach me theol-ogy and medicine, but I will think as I please” (p. 240). In The Witchof Blackbird Pond, freedom of thought replaces freedom of religionas the sought-after ideal.

Which America? Witch Hunting in the 1680s and 1950s

Like John, Kit finds that an experience in the wilderness solidifies herenlightened ideas about religious and intellectual freedom. Her out-spoken nature and outsider status, however, makes her views muchmore dangerous than John’s. Having been raised in a moderately ob-servant Anglican household, Kit first gains exposure to religious andideological difference in New England, and she does not like what shesees. As she molds herself to her aunt and uncle’s ways, Kit learns thata Puritan lifestyle entails deliberate toil, sober clothing, solemn holydays, and an unequivocal association of books with didacticism. Shealso learns that in a Puritan theocracy, nonconformists fare poorly. Asan Anglican and Caribbean, Kit is unequivocally an outsider in Weth-


ersfield, regardless of how she behaves. For that reason, she feelsa special affinity to Hannah Tupper, an elderly woman who, as aQuaker, lives an enforced ostracism Kit only feels. Hannah instinc-tively understands that Kit is homesick, but knowing the conse-quences of rebellion, she counsels patience. Through Hannah—whoshe initially feared because others told her she was a witch—Kitlearns the virtue of tolerance. Despite the brand upon her forehead,the swampland she is relegated to, and the fines she must pay forabsenting herself from a Meeting at which she would not be wel-come, Hannah shows no anger toward her neighbors. Her acceptanceof what she cannot change and her commitment to make the best ofher situation provide a powerful model for Kit, who is emboldenedby the example of being true to oneself. But Kit differs from Hannahin that she is a secular hero: “ ‘Can I become a Quaker,’ asked Kit, onlyhalf joking. ‘I’d rather pay a fine any day than go to Meeting’ ” (p.106). It is not the fact that the Puritan theology conflicts with herAnglican upbringing that Kit objects to, it is that she finds Meetingslong and dull, Puritan mores restricting. John Holbrook might find Dr.Bulkeley’s sermons inspired, but Kit draws stimulation from Shake-spearean plays. In Kit’s mind, the need for religious tolerance reallytranslates into the need for societal acceptance of divergent ideas.Such thinking, however, is ahead of her time. Kit commits a series oftransgressions that, combined with factors beyond her control, end inher being accused of witchcraft.

Kit’s secularization facilitates Speare’s use of the court trial scene tocomment on McCarthy-era witch hunts at the same time that she rein-terprets New England’s seventeenth-century witch trials. Written in1958, The Witch of Blackbird Pond participates in a dialogue begunwith the 1953 publication of Arthur Miller’s drama The Crucible.Arthur Miller, The Cru-

cible Whether Speare consciously drew on Miller’s work cannot be statedwith certainty, but aspects of her trial certainly resonate with Miller’s.Sixteen-year-old Kit is just one year younger than Arthur Miller’s Abi-gail Williams. While the teenage girls stand on opposite sides of “jus-tice,” with Kit being an accused witch and Abigail a lead accuser,both are orphaned children living with female cousins and an unclewho seems to begrudge their presence. Moreover, both girls complainabout being made to work like slaves in order to earn their keep.13 Inboth The Witch of Blackbird Pond and The Crucible, a central figureaccused of practicing black magic is Barbadian. Speare’s Kit and Mil-ler’s Tituba are very different characters—Kit is the wealthy, whitedaughter of elite Barbadian planters, Tituba is a West Indian slave whoformerly served a Barbadian master—but in both cases, townspeopleassociate the West Indies with evil. And in both accounts, Caribbeanexoticism takes the form of a brightly colored bird. In The Crucible,Abigail cries out against Mary Warren, the Proctors’ servant girl who


dared tell the magistrate that Abigail and the others girls’ cries ofwitchcraft were mere “pretense.” In revenge, Abigail wails that Maryused black art to change her shape into a “yellow bird” that lies wait-ing to attack her (1995, p. 107). While no one accuses Kit of trans-forming herself into a bird, Speare uses bird imagery to describe Kit’sforeignness. At her first Sabbath in Wethersfield, Kit offends her un-cle’s sense of decency by dressing for Meeting in the only clothing shehas: Barbadian silk. As the narrator explains, “Beside the plain bluehomespun and white linen which modestly clothed Aunt Rachel andJudith, Kit’s flowered silk gave her the look of some vivid tropicalbird lighted by mistake on a strange shore” (p. 51). Perhaps the great-est parallel between The Crucible and The Witch of Blackbird Pond,however, is the larger aim to describe the United States from its seven-teenth-century origins to 1950s present. As literary scholar James J.James J. Martine, The

Crucible: Politics, Prop-erty and Pretense

Marine wrote of The Crucible: “The title obviously . . . refers to thetest or hard trial that Proctor undergoes. . . . On the other hand, wemust not overlook the significance of the fact that, as Miller wellknew, a crucible is a melting pot—what this nation claims itself tobe” (1993/1996, p. 66). Kit’s trial marks the culmination of her Ameri-canization, her “melting” into colonial New England. Although sheretains her exoticism, she walks out of the courtroom embraced as amember of the community. “I promise you,” William tells Kit, “thateveryone is willing to let bygones be bygones” (pp. 228–229).

Despite similarities in both content and meaning, the trial in TheWitch of Blackbird Pond differs in significant ways from that depictedin The Crucible. The distinctions suggest Speare’s artistic creativity,but they also reflect the times in which she was writing and the audi-ence she was writing for. While Miller was researching and writingThe Crucible, Senator Joseph McCarthy still enjoyed widespread sup-port in both the halls of government and homes of the Americanpeople. The communist witch hunt dominating TV airways kept polit-ical leftists, and especially those like artists and teachers who werein the public eye, in a state of perpetual fear. One never knew whenpast activities or “name naming” would lead to a call to appear beforethe House Un-American Activities Committee. Like many of his friendsand colleagues, Miller, a Leftist, playwright, and Jew, entertained thereal possibility of such a call—which he did receive in 1956. Theimage Elizabeth George Speare projected to the world offers a starkcontrast. A longtime resident of Connecticut, Speare had taught highschool English for 6 years before raising two children of her own. Asthe wife of an industrial engineer, she divided her time betweenmothering, writing, and teaching Sunday school at the local congrega-tional church. When Horn Book, a children’s literature magazine,

Helen Reeder Cross,“Biographical note”

publishes the acceptance speeches of Newbery Award winners, edi-tors solicit a biographical note to accompany each speech. The friend


and colleague who wrote Speare’s emphasized the author’s strict ad-herence to the ideals of 1950s American womanhood:

Even now that [son] Al is away at Cornell and [daughter] Mary busywith her studies at Chaffee School for Girls, even now that ElizabethGeorge Speare has become a famous name, home still comes first, writ-ing second. Despite the heavy correspondence and the requests to lec-ture, there is still time to stir up a party during school vacation orto make that lovely red dancing dress for a pretty seventeen-year-olddaughter. (1965, p. 79)

Speare’s activities protected her from the kind of political scrutinyMiller experienced, and this might have muted the intensity of McCar-thy terror for her. But the 5-year gap between publication of The Cru-cible and publication of The Witch of Blackbird Pond also makes adifference. Congress condemned McCarthy for abuse of Senate rulesin 1954, and he quickly faded from public view. The effects of Mc-Carthyism lingered, but the crisis was on the decline by the time TheWitch of Blackbird Pond was published in 1958.

Historical context can partially account for Speare’s depiction of awitch trial in which reason and constraint guide the proceedings—ifnot the accusations—more than jealously and superstition, but textualevidence suggests that Speare’s audience played a more significantrole. While The Witch of Blackbird Pond unquestionably offers adultmessages, its primary purpose remains the entertainment and instruc-tion of children. Thus, while Miller could raise the age of the histori-cal Abigail Williams from 11 to 17 in order to argue that sexualityunderlay the guilt and jealousy leading to Salem’s social disorder,Speare could not.14 Kit is only a year younger than Miller’s Abigail, buther lust for life and freedom lacks any inkling of sexual desire. WhenKit asks Nat’s mother if she can go ashore at Saybrook just to put herfeet down on American soil—her destination, Wethersfield, still beinga several days’ journey away—Mrs. Eaton remarks with exasperation:“What a child you are, Kit. . . . Sometimes ’tis hard to believe you aresixteen” (p. 5). Judith displays similar frustration after meeting JohnHolbrook in church: “You never mentioned that there was a hand-some man on that boat,” she reproaches Kit. “Handsome? You meanJohn Holbrook?” (p. 57). Kit has little interest in young men and onlyin the last pages of the book does she come to realize her love forNat, a love Speare describes in purely emotional terms. In addition tomitigating the witch trial’s danger by eliminating sexual overtones,Speare incorporates Halloween imagery throughout the book. Thefirst time Kit spies Hannah she sees a “grey figure bent over a kettle,stirring something with a long stick” (p. 78). Kit realizes she has stir-red kettles of soap just like that, but her spine “prickled” at the sightnonetheless. In the middle of the book, Andros arrives in Hartford to


claim the Connecticut charter on the evening of October 31, a datemeaningless to seventeenth-century Englishmen, but not to Speare’scontemporary readers. Although Halloween was not celebrated inNew England—or even England—during the seventeenth century,Nat and his mates pull a Halloween prank that land them in the townstocks. And at the end of the story, Nat comes to claim his headstrongbride in his very own ketch, named the Witch, after Kit. Witchcraftsimply cannot be a serious charge if readers associated it with imma-ture pranks and childish fears.

Of all the action in The Witch of Blackbird Pond, the witch trial veersfarthest from the historic record.15 Because no witch trial actually oc-curred in Wethersfield in 1687, Speare had complete liberty to createtruth. After informing Kit—and readers—of the two witch trials thatdid take place in seventeenth-century Wethersfield, Speare proceedsto construct a “safe” trial for Kit.16 While Goodwife Cruff had dislikedKit from the time of their first meeting on Captain Eaton’s ship, shecries witch only after a number of village young people fall ill with“mysterious fever” (p. 177). Under her influence, Wethersfield womenclaim that God sent the malady as a judgment on the community forharboring an “infidel and a Quaker” (p. 183). Jealous of the “high andmighty” Barbadian who wears beautiful clothing and turns WilliamAshby’s head, the women accuse Kit of being Hannah’s witch-in-train-ing and thus playing a direct role in causing the village sickness. Be-cause readers know that Kit herself had fallen ill with the fever, thesituation remains only mildly frightening. Unlike Abigail Williams,who must in blooming health explain how her cousin Betty lies limpin bed, Kit still bears physical proof of her innocence in the weaknessof fever. Neither seventeenth-century “witches” nor twentieth century“communists” enjoyed such security. But Kit’s proof cannot spare herthe indignity and fright of imprisonment in a makeshift jail. When hersentence is read before the town selectmen and community, Kit feelsan impending doom. But unlike accused seventeenth-century witches(or twentieth-century communists), Kit’s fate rests in the hands ofofficials who are guided by reason. All charges brought against Kit—from casting spells on Goodman Whittlesley’s cattle to dancingaround a moonlit fire with the Devil—are conscientiously considered;Captain Sam Talcott does not make the proceedings easy for Kit. Butwhen the magistrate speaks, readers are told he does so “reasonably”(pp. 213, 219) and “reassuringly” (p. 217). Similarly, Dr. Bulkeley’scourt actions are carried out “deliberately” and “thoughtfully” (pp.213, 215, 219). As literary critic Peter Hunt has argued, in an age inPeter Hunt, Criticism,

Theory, and Children’sLiterature

which educators frown on outright didacticism, children’s authors“control” their text through stylistic means, particularly tagging(1991, pp. 109–117). Abundant speech tags in Speare’s trial scene


mediate the reading experience, making a terrifying witch hunt ap-propriate for children’s ears. Adult authority figures remain rationalbeings who protect minors. And when adults such as Uncle Matthewintercede to safeguard children, neither accusers nor town officialsensnare them in traps of conspiracy.

While softening the danger of seventeenth-century witch accusations,The Witch of Blackbird Pond highlights the threat posed by McCar-thyism. Probably at the time of its publication and certainly today, thenature of Kit’s transgressions has meaning for teachers that remainsobscure to students. While young readers certainly grasp the unfair-ness of Kit’s “guilt by association”—what child has not been blamedfor the wrong doings of a sibling or peer?—they most likely miss thesignificance of Wethersfield’s criticism of Kit as a teacher. Impor-tantly, Kit first angers town administrators when she challenges tradi-tional pedagogy in the dame school. It is this transgression that pro-pels her to the meadow, where she seeks consolation and findsHannah, thereby deepening her crime. With Hannah’s prompting, Kitreturns to the dame school a staid schoolmarm, but she finds anotheroutlet for her unorthodox philosophy of education when she beginstutoring Prudence Cruff. Kit holds Prudence’s forbidden reading les-sons under a willow tree where she uses an “exquisite little silverhornbook” to teach the young girl her letters (p. 115). During theMcCarthy terror, teachers, textbooks, and school library catalogs re-ceived close scrutiny as officials scoured schools and universities forsigns of subversion. In a 1954 pamphlet titled This is Your HouseCommittee on Un-American Activities, the House Un-American Ac-This is your House

Committee on Un-American ActivitiesPrepared and Releasedby the Committee onUn-American Activities,U.S. House of Represen-tatives

tivities Committee answered questions about who “is fit to teach theyouth of America.” It makes clear its opinion that while school offi-cials should determine the appropriateness of any one teacher, “Com-munists” are unsuitable instructors (1954/1998, p. 151). Because thedefinition of communist remained elusive, unorthodox teachingmethods and the use of unconventional texts placed teachers at riskof being labeled “red.” Kit’s practices put her in similar danger. Tocolonial New Englanders, learning to read meant mastering Scriptureas much as gaining literacy. Taught with standard religious texts, chil-dren absorbed Puritan morality and the alphabet simultaneously. Kit’sbelief that reading lessons should be enjoyable conflicted with Puritanunderstanding of the purpose of literacy instruction. Just like politi-cally liberal teachers in the 1950s, Kit entertained ideas that seemedto threaten the whole order on which American society was based.Only the fact that Prudence could read the Bible fluently when calledto testify in court saved Kit. Had Kit had Shakespeare’s completeworks at her disposal, she might well have met the fate of so manytwentieth-century English teachers.


The Witch of Blackbird Pond Today

As a work of historical fiction, The Witch of Blackbird Pond providesa rich interpretation of both seventeenth-century New England andmid-twentieth-century America. Because Speare’s themes—toleranceof difference (religious, political, physical ability, age), abhorrence ofslavery, support of heterodoxy, and a commitment to liberty, justice,and freedom—remain central to today’s society, The Witch of Black-bird Pond continues to enjoy immense popularity among educators.A quick Internet search yields some 750 compilations of lesson plans,student assignments, and classroom projects geared to The Witch ofBlackbird Pond. Almost all teachers using the novel explore its themesand try to connect them to their students’ twenty-first century lives.For example, teachers might ask students whether there have beentimes when they felt ostracized because they appeared different. Or,whether they, like Kit, have ever struggled to know whose rules arethe correct ones to follow. But because The Witch of Blackbird Pondis a work of historical fiction—and one heavily praised as historicallyaccurate—many educators also move beyond children’s personalidentification with characters to consider how Kit’s experiences re-flect the time period in which she lived. As many teachers have found,The Witch of Blackbird Pond works well in interdisciplinary units oncolonial American history. Typically, students reading the novel forboth literature and social studies classes not only consider characterdevelopment and themes, but also complete enrichment projects in-volving research on various aspects of colonial life. Dame schools,Puritan and Quaker religious practices, early American justice systems(and particularly, punishment), the island of Barbados, the Salemwitch trials, and more rarely, the Atlantic slave trade all figure astopics of study. Notably absent from student research, however, is anexploration of indigenous peoples.

Although Speare’s novel enjoys immense popularity, it also has itscritics. Certain Christian groups have argued that the book promoteswitchcraft and therefore violates parents’ right to instruct their chil-dren in religious belief. On the other side of the political spectrum,some liberals object to the novel’s classroom use because it advancesthinking about Native Americans that is unacceptable in today’s soci-ety. Importantly, Speare’s message of tolerance incorporates accusedwitches but excludes indigenous people. In The Witch of BlackbirdPond, Speare’s characters worry when John Holbrook is captured byIndians. As a result, readers gain access to colonial attitudes towardIndians, but they never have an opportunity to hear native perspec-tives on English settlers. Lacking information about land encroach-ment, mourning wars, and the devastation caused by European dis-


eases, Speare’s readers cannot make sense out of—let alone empathizewith—the Indians’ decisions to take captives. Moreover, Speare pre-sents only one side of the historical story. In the context of her novel,English settlers are captured by Indians, but no Indians are forciblyadopted, enslaved, or otherwise violated by colonists. Some schoolsystems, understandably concerned about how children might absorbthe message inherent in these omissions, have eliminated Young Adultnovels such as The Witch of Blackbird Pond altogether.17 While theirintent is good, I would argue that their method is misguided.

Historical fiction necessarily reflects two distinct pasts—the historicalpast it takes as its subject matter and the historical past of its creation—as well as beliefs and attitudes held in the present in which it is read.Thus, The Witch of Blackbird Pond has as much to say about present-day America and the United States of the 1950s as it does about theConnecticut of the 1680s. If approached as a work of historical fictionfrom a particular moment in time, not as contemporary narrative his-tory, The Witch of Blackbird Pond can continue to teach Americans ofall races and ethnicities essential lessons. To do so, however, educatorsmust help students explore the interaction of history and myth and tounderstand how Speare uses the 1680s as a means to comment on the1950s. Teachers can then urge students to consider why the novelcontinues to speak to readers in the twenty-first century. Only by under-standing the past—including the history of Indians who took captivesand were taken captives, the people who wrote history and the peoplewho were written out of history—can children hope to make sense ofthe tensions in today’s United States. Young people must grapple withquestions like those arising from Speare’s book: Why are slaves absentin Kit’s Wethersfield? Why is Indian behavior rendered inexplicable inthe novel? How could an author who urged tolerance and justice beblind to her own prejudices? What does this suggest about our owntime, about ourselves? Of course, The Witch of Blackbird Pond cannotstand on its own. Students’ understanding of Indians and African Ameri-cans must encompass more than a realization of wrongs done. Allchildren need opportunities to see historical figures of color as agentsas well as victims, authors as well as subjects. But if we truly want toeducate students, ignoring books—and by extension, ignoring evi-dence—is never the solution. Approaching The Witch of BlackbirdPond in this manner, however, does require reader sophistication. In1959, Bookmark recommended The Witch of Blackbird Pond forreaders age 12–16, and the novel certainly contains vocabulary chal-lenging for high school readers as well as for the middle schoolersusually assigned the book (1960, p. 933). Older readers, moreover, haveDorothy P. Davison, ed.,

The Book Review Di-gest.

the abstract reasoning skills necessary to think about history, myth, andthe project of historical fiction.


When students and teachers approach The Witch of Blackbird Pondas a novel seeking to describe the United States from its seventeenth-century origins to the 1950s present, they can ask if the novel’sthemes—including the American struggle for freedom and the humanpain caused when a group excludes an individual due to his or herdifference—continue to be problems facing the nation today. TheWitch of Blackbird Pond encourages such questions by issuing a pow-erful warning about the consequences of ignoring the past. McCar-thy’s witch hunt, Speare argues, should have seemed eerily familiar toAmericans in the 1950s. Today’s readers might recognize other rea-sons to heed Speare’s counsel. Perhaps, for example, students will seeparallels between Kit’s reception in Puritan New England and MiddleEastern students’ reception in American universities post-9/11. By ex-ploring The Witch of Blackbird Pond’s dialogue with the 1950s, stu-dents can begin to understand that this nation’s struggle to define themeaning of freedom is ongoing. And in the twenty-first century asmuch as in the seventeenth, it must always be balanced with the de-sire to protect a treasured American way of life, however contestedthat phrase’s definition may be. Comments made at the time TheWitch of Blackbird Pond received the Newbery Award suggest thatSpeare intended her audience to read with an eye to both the pastand present. As her friend and colleague Helen Reeder Cross wrote:

There is a school of thought which calls the teen-age book an unnecess-ary genre. “By that age young people ought to be sinking their teeth inthe tougher meat of adult books—the classics,” such critics say. Eliza-beth Speare has refuted the argument. Here is a book, meant for theyoung reader, which is far from delicate; it manages to grapple with evilwhile still sustaining faith in man’s yearning for the stars. Under theshadow of the twentieth century’s nameless fears, thank heaven for abook which encourages compassion. Set in the seventeenth century itmay be, but the values of The Witch are timeless. (1965, p. 80)

The values of The Witch may indeed be timeless. In any case, ap-proaching The Witch of Blackbird Pond as historical fiction offersmuch for young people to “sink their teeth” into. I began this articlewith the words of educator Elizabeth F. Howard, who recommendedthat teachers use story to draw apathetic students into what theyview as a painfully dull subject: U.S. history. As the example of TheWitch of Blackbird Pond illustrates, such a strategy does not neces-sarily translate into “watered down” history instruction, as manyteachers fear. In fact, historical fiction may be an ideal way to supple-ment the passive activity of reading history textbooks. By allowingstudents to do the work of historians, piecing together constructionof “truth” over time, history is presented to students as it really is: notthe study of the past, but the study of the past in the present.


Acknowledgments

I would like to thank John Stauffer for his encouragement, advice, andguidance on this project. Thanks, also, to Margaret Mackey and theanonymous reviewers of Children’s Literature in Education for theirhelpful comments on a draft of this article.

Notes

1. For a discussion of folkloric elements in The Witch of Blackbird Pond,see Mary Helen Thuente, “Beyond historical fiction: Speare’s The Witch ofBlackbird Pond,” English Journal, 1985, 74 (6), 50–55.

2. Hannah Tupper, the Quaker widow who befriends Kit, is the one possi-ble exception. Failing eyesight prevents her from reading, and her reli-gious differences absent her not only from Meeting but also from contactwith the larger Puritan society.

3. See Bernard Bailyn, The Ideological Origins of the American Revolution(Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1992), 232–246.

4. This estimate applies to the 1690s. Jackson Turner Main, Society andEconomy in Colonial Connecticut (Princeton, NJ: Princeton UniversityPress, 1985), 177.

5. Connecticut slaves appear in only one line of Speare’s 249-page book. Herfirst Sunday in Wethersfield, Kit “glimpsed the familiar black faces thatmust be slaves” at the back of the Meeting House (p. 53). Neither she norany other character interacts with them.

6. Richard S. Dunn, Puritans and Yankees: The Winthrop Dynasty of NewEngland, 1630–1717 (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1962),235.

7. Both Hannah’s advice and Kit’s refusal reflect behaviors seventeenth-cen-tury colonists, whether Quaker or Puritan, would have recognized. Bothsects thought love an important precursor to marriage. See Laurel ThatcherUlrich, Good Wives: Images and Reality in the Lives of Women in North-ern New England, 1650–1750 (New York: Vintage Books, 1991), 121–122.

8. John, like Kit, is a fictional character. Dr. Gershom Bulkley, however, didlive and preach in Wethersfield, Connecticut, during the 1680s. Speare’sdepiction of both his demeanor and politics are historically accurate.

9. See J. M. Sosin, English America and the Revolution of 1688: RoyalAdministration and the Structure of Provincial Government (Lincoln:University of Nebraska Press, 1982), 30.

10. Albert Carlos Bates, The Charter of Connecticut: A Study (Hartford: Con-necticut Historical Society, 1932), 39.

11. For a description of the legend, see Dunn, Puritans and Yankees, 242–43. The myth is widely repeated in local histories.

12. Adam Cruff, a poor farmer and the father of Prudence, the young, abusedgirl Kit befriends, similarly adopts language associated with the Revolution.In his case, he echoes ideas historian Linda Kerber has described as “Repub-lican Motherhood.” Kerber and others have argued that following the Revo-lution, Americans paid increased attention to female education in order toensure that women could nurture sons to hold good, republican values


essential to the young nation (Linda K. Kerber, Women of the Republic:Intellect and Ideology in Revolutionary America [Chapel Hill: Universityof North Carolina Press, 1980]). In the Wethersfield Meeting House-turnedcourtroom, Adam Cruff announces: “If I’d had a son, I’d of seen to it helearned his letters. Well, this is a new country over here, and who says itmay not be just as needful for a woman to read as a man?” (p. 221). Hisstatement ignores the fact that Puritans believed children of both sexesneeded to acquire basic literary skills so they could read their Bibles. Onanother note, his assertion contradicts the wishes of his wife. On freeinghimself from the domineering rule of his Goodwife Cruff, Wethersfieldmen applaud Adam for his “declaration of independence” (p. 222).

13. Compare Abigail’s words with Kit’s. In Act I of The Crucible, Abigail at-tempts to explain why she was dismissed from her position as domesticservant to the Proctors: “They want slaves, not such as I. Let them send toBarbados for that. I will not black my face for any of them! With ill-concealed resentment at him: Do you begrudge my bed, uncle? (ArthurMiller, The Crucible [New York: Penguin Books, 1995], 11). In chapter 8 ofThe Witch of Blackbird Pond, Kit notes that a high-class slave in Barbadoswould rebel at being asked to kneel in the dirt and weed vegetable gardens,a fact that leads her to ask, “What was she doing here anyway, Sir FrancisTyler’s granddaughter, squatting in an onion patch?” (78–79). Her unclehad already made clear that her presence was a burden on the family, andshe must compensate as best she could by making herself useful.

14. Christopher Bigsby discusses the reasoning behind Miller’s selective alter-ation of historical fact in his introduction to the play (Miller, The Cruci-ble, xiv).

15. That is not to say that the trial does not reflect historical accountsof seventeenth-century New England witchcraft. Both Dr. Bulkley’s state-ment that the accusations’ legality were open to question because theyrested on the word of just one witness and the fact that Kit was tried inWethersfield rather than in Hartford mirrors historical trends. See PaulBoyer and Stephen Nissenbaum, Salem Possessed: The Social Origins ofWitchcraft (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1974), 14–19, andCarol F. Karlsen, The Devil in the Shape of a Woman: Witchcraft in Colo-nial New England (New York: W. W. Norton & Co., 1998), 29.

16. As Kit learns, Mary Johnson was hanged for witchcraft in 1648 after sheconfessed uncleanness with men and the devil. Katherine Harrison wasconvicted as a witch in 1669, but because the magistrates did not thinkthere was sufficient evidence to hang her, she was jailed for severalmonths then freed under the agreement that she would pay “her justfees” and permanently leave the colony. See Karlsen, The Devil in theShape of a Woman, 21–22, 29.

17. “Summertime, and the Reading Can Be Easy” New York Times, 20 May2001, Book Review, 26.

References

Bailyn, Bernard, The Ideological Origins of the American Revolution. Cam-bridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1992.


Bates, Albert Carlos, The Charter of Connecticut: A Study. Hartford: Connect-icut Historical Society, 1932.

Boyer, Paul and Stephen Nissenbaum, Salem Possessed: The Social Origins ofWitchcraft. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1974.

Cross, Helen Reeder, “Biographical note,” in Newbery and Caldecott MedalBooks: 1956–1965, Lee Kingman, ed., pp. 78–81. Boston: Horn Book, Inc.,1965.

Davison, Dorothy P., ed., The Book Review Digest. New York: H. W. WilsonCo., 1960.

Dunn, Richard, Puritans and Yankees: The Winthrop Dynasty of New En-gland, 1630–1717. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1962.

“Elizabeth George Speare, children’s book author, dies,” The Houston Chroni-cle, 17 Nov. 1994.

Howard, Elizabeth F., America as Story: Historical Fiction for SecondarySchools. Chicago: American Library Association, 1998.

Hunt, Peter, Criticism, Theory, and Children’s Literature. Cambridge, MA:Basil Blackwell, Inc., 1991.

Karlsen, Carol F., The Devil in the Shape of a Woman: Witchcraft in ColonialNew England. New York: W. W. Norton & Co., 1998.

Kerber, Linda K., Women of the Republic: Intellect and Ideology in Revolu-tionary America. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1980.

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Martine, James J., The Crucible: Politics, Property and Pretense. New York:Twayne, 1993. (Reprinted in Arthur Miller’s The Crucible, Harold Bloom,ed. Broomall, PA: Chelsea House Publishers, 1996.)

Melish, Joanne Pope, Disowning Slavery: Gradual Emancipation and “Race”in New England, 1780–1860. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1998.

Miller, Arthur, The Crucible. New York: Penguin Books, 1995.Slotkin, Richard, Regeneration Through Violence: The Mythology of the Ameri-

can Frontier, 1600–1890. Middletown, CT: Wesleyan University Press, 1973.Slotkin, Richard, The Fatal Environment: The Myth of the Frontier in the Age

of Industrialization, 1800–1890. New York: Atheneum, 1985.Slotkin, Richard, Gunfighter Nation: The Myth of the Frontier in Twentieth-

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Thuente, Mary Helen, “Beyond Historical Fiction: Speare’s The Witch ofBlackbird Pond,” English Journal, 1985, 74(6), 50–55.

Ulrich, Laurel Thatcher, Good Wives: Images and Reality in the Lives ofWomen in Northern New England, 1650–1750. New York: Vintage Books,1991.