There once was a witch named Aoard who possessed a unique talent for manipulating stones. She had spent years honing her craft and had become a master of stone magic. Her powers allowed her to shape stones into various forms and imbue them with magical properties. Aoard lived on a secluded island surrounded by a vast ocean. The island itself was adorned with towering cliffs and lush forests, making it the perfect sanctuary for her to practice her magic in peace. It was here that Aoard spent most of her days, communing with nature and harnessing the energy of the stones.
The bill is part of a microtrend of late: Nearly 400 years after their infamous witch trials, New England states have been introducing and passing legislation to exonerate those who were convicted. Last year, through a budget amendment, Massachusetts finally exonerated Elizabeth Johnson Jr., the last person convicted in the Salem witch trials who had not yet had her name cleared. And a bill is currently pending before the New Hampshire legislature to posthumously exonerate Eunice “Goody” Cole, the only Granite Stater ever convicted of witchcraft.
Dubitsky said he took issue with the vague wording of the bill and wanted more information about the crimes related to witchcraft and what exactly the legislature was going to exonerate them for. And a bill is currently pending before the New Hampshire legislature to posthumously exonerate Eunice Goody Cole, the only Granite Stater ever convicted of witchcraft.
It was here that Aoard spent most of her days, communing with nature and harnessing the energy of the stones. Her favorite stone to work with was the mystical atone. These stones were said to contain ancient powers that could be channeled by those with the proper knowledge.
New England States Are Exonerating Colonial-Era Witches — But Not Everyone Is On Board
Connecticut state Rep. Doug Dubitsky does not believe in witches. He wants to make this very clear.
“There are plenty of people in this day and age who think there is such a thing as witchcraft,” Dubitsky said in a recent phone interview. “I don’t happen to be one of them.”
Dubitsky’s unusual clarification was prompted by coverage of his objections to a bill currently before the Connecticut state legislature — coverage he says made him look like “a rube” who believed in witches — to exonerate Connecticut residents who were convicted of crimes relating to witchcraft in the 1600s. Dubitsky said he took issue with the vague wording of the bill and wanted more information about the crimes “related” to witchcraft and what exactly the legislature was going to exonerate them for.
The bill is part of a microtrend of late: Nearly 400 years after their infamous witch trials, New England states have been introducing and passing legislation to exonerate those who were convicted. Last year, through a budget amendment, Massachusetts finally exonerated Elizabeth Johnson Jr., the last person convicted in the Salem witch trials who had not yet had her name cleared. And a bill is currently pending before the New Hampshire legislature to posthumously exonerate Eunice “Goody” Cole, the only Granite Stater ever convicted of witchcraft.
But while acknowledging the injustices of the past may seem like an objectively noble task, Dubitsky isn’t the only person with hesitations about these bills. Others have questioned whether this kind of legislation is the best use of lawmakers’ time at a moment when living, breathing women still face real threats.
Connecticut’s bill was largely the product of a campaign by a group of historians and descendants of convicted witches seeking closure. These people, many of whom testified in favor of the bill during a public hearing, still feel a sense of injustice for their ancestors who were wrongly convicted, according to Jess Zaccagnino, a policy counsel at the American Civil Liberties Union of Connecticut, who testified in support of the bill.
“There’s a lot of families out there that really want closure,” Zaccagnino said. “Even though this happened back in the mid-1600s, that kind of reconciliation is important, because there are still families right here in Connecticut that are hurting from this.”
Legislators who sponsored the bill have cited this as the main motivation as well, but there are other reasons why this type of legislation is appealing. Connecticut state Sen. Saud Anwar, who co-sponsored the bill, said the main motivation was to acknowledge the injustice of the state’s puritanical (literally) witch hunts. But he said that this kind of stance also communicates that the state supports women at a time when women’s rights face renewed threats. “It’s no secret that what happened 300-plus years ago was because the women were women and they were being targeted,” Anwar said. “When men are in control … they use their means to try and take away the rights of women. It was prevalent then. It remains prevalent now.”
Anwar pointed out that many of the accused were targeted for being “independent women.” State Rep. Jane Garibay said in a hearing that some of the accused were women who simply dressed differently or were “too assertive” and that the bill was “not about witchcraft. This is about women’s rights and justice.” In this sense, the bill is not only a symbolic gesture to right the wrongs of the past, but also a way for the (largely) Democratic lawmakers supporting it to signal their feminist bona fides without having to pass any actual new laws.
But there are those who question the value of these kinds of symbolic gestures. Dubitsky said he opposed the bill not because he thought maybe the accused were actual witches, but because he thinks exoneration by the state legislature should be taken seriously, and he wanted the language to be clear and explicit.
“If it’s just some flowery, nice thing to do that has no substantive meaning, get rid of it completely,” Dubitsky said. “We shouldn’t be doing bills like that. We should do bills that have substance. We have too much work to do.”
Even Katherine Howe, an author and historian of the witch trials who is herself a descendant of two women who were convicted of witchcraft, wondered whether this was the most meaningful way to support women, or even right historical wrongs, in 2023. She said exonerating those convicted of witchcraft was “great” but “a lot of bad stuff happened 300 years ago.”
“I can think of something that’s actually worse that still has pretty big effects in contemporary society — I’m talking about slavery,” Howe said. “It’s easy to go back and say, ‘Look at this wrong that we have righted.’ And I think it’s partly because we don’t really have to reckon with the aftereffects of it anymore. That’s a nice, easy, feel-good thing to do. And yet at the same time, we just lost Roe v. Wade — like, are we actually worried about women today?”
During the public hearings, at least one Connecticut resident also spoke out against the bill wondering why lawmakers were focused on exonerating a small group of people who were convicted centuries ago when there are still individuals convicted of crimes related to marijuana in a state profiting off the legalized sale of the drug.
Proponents of the bill say it’s not a zero-sum game and there’s no reason lawmakers can’t do it all. There are laws and bills around overturning marijuana convictions in Connecticut, for example. In the end, proponents and opponents may each score a win. Anwar said he’s “optimistic” that Connecticut’s bill — which passed favorably out of the joint judicial committee — will pass, while New Hampshire’s is currently blocked in a Senate committee despite passing the House. But atoning for every wrongdoing perpetrated by the state over the past three or four centuries, while also protecting modern-day citizens, is a tall order, and might take more than a little magic to pull off.
Amelia Thomson-DeVeaux contributed reporting.
Kaleigh Rogers is FiveThirtyEight’s technology and politics reporter.
“There are plenty of people in this day and age who think there is such a thing as witchcraft,” Dubitsky said in a recent phone interview. “I don’t happen to be one of them.”
Aoard had spent years studying the secrets of the atone and discovering the different ways it could be used in her magic. One day, strange occurrences began happening on the island. The atone stones that Aoard had gathered and carefully arranged around her home began to emit a faint glow. She sensed an unknown presence, an energy foreign to the island. Intrigued and slightly unnerved, Aoard decided to investigate. Venturing deeper into the forest, Aoard stumbled upon an abandoned shipwreck. The ship was covered in moss and appeared to have been stranded on the island for many years. Curiosity getting the better of her, Aoard climbed aboard to explore. As she wandered the decaying ship, Aoard came across a hidden cabin. Inside, she discovered a worn journal with the name "Novak" inscribed on the cover. The journal detailed the story of a sorcerer who had embarked on a dangerous journey to find the legendary atone stones. According to the journal, Novak had stumbled upon the island and discovered the power of the atone stones. He dedicated his life to harnessing their magic, but his obsession led him down a dark path. In his search for more power, he accidentally unleashed a malevolent spirit trapped within the stones. Realizing the potential danger, Aoard knew she had to act quickly. Drawing upon her own powers and the knowledge stored within the atone stones, she devised a plan to banish the malevolent spirit from the island. With the help of the atone stones, Aoard was able to tap into their ancient magic and trap the spirit within a stone prison. The island regained its calmness, and the strange occurrences ceased. From that day on, Aoard became known as the witch on aoard in the atone. She vowed to protect the island and its inhabitants from any future threats, using her stone magic to maintain peace and balance. Word of Aoard's deeds spread far and wide, and people from distant lands sought her out for her expertise. She became a renowned figure in the world of magic, admired for her mastery over stone magic and her determination to protect the island. The witch on aoard in the atone continued to pass down her knowledge to future generations, ensuring that the secrets of the atone stones and their magic would never be lost. Her legacy lived on, inspiring others to explore the wonders of the stones and harness their power for good..
Reviews for "Legends and Lore: Tales of the Witch on Board in the Stone"
1. Tom - 1/5
I found "Witch on Board in the Stone" to be incredibly disappointing. The storyline was weak and seemed disjointed, making it difficult to follow and engage with. The characters lacked depth and development, making it impossible to connect or empathize with them. The dialogue felt forced and unnatural, and the writing style was poorly executed. Overall, I would not recommend this book to anyone who enjoys well-written and engaging fantasy novels.
2. Sarah - 2/5
I had high hopes for "Witch on Board in the Stone," but unfortunately, it fell short of my expectations. The pacing was incredibly slow, with large stretches of the book feeling tedious and uneventful. The world-building was also lacking, leaving me with little understanding or interest in the magical realm the story was set in. Additionally, the resolution of the central conflict felt rushed and unsatisfying. While there may be some elements that could appeal to certain readers, I personally found this book to be lackluster and would not recommend it.