Month: October 2026

Connecticut’s Forgotten Witch Trials

When you think of witch trials in colonial America, Salem, Massachusetts, probably springs to mind. But Connecticut was prosecuting suspected witches decades before Salem became synonymous with witchcraft hysteria. Between 1647 and 1663, the colony experienced an early wave of witchcraft cases, with approximately 37 accusations and 11 executions. These cases reveal a lesser-known chapter in Connecticut’s legal history, when religious conviction, neighborhood suspicion, and criminal law could combine with deadly consequences.

A Colony on Edge

Seventeenth-century Connecticut was a deeply religious society and a very dangerous place. People understood their lives through a Christian worldview in which God, Satan, and supernatural forces were active presences in the world. Illness, sudden death, damaged property, and unexplained misfortune could all invite suspicions of witchcraft. In close-knit communities, personal disagreements and strained relationships sometimes gave those suspicions a human target.

Life in the colony was hardly secure. Settlers faced a challenging economy, uncertain harvests, and the daily difficulties of building and maintaining communities in a land where they had violently established their presence.  Epidemic diseases periodically devastated communities, while limited medical knowledge left people with few reliable answers when illness struck.

These conditions combined to form a world in which misfortune was common, explanations were often uncertain, and people understood their safety and prosperity as bound up with the moral and spiritual condition of their communities.

Good Magic, Bad Magic

It is tempting to imagine that everyone in seventeenth-century New England regarded magic as evil. The reality was more complicated.

English communities had a long tradition of seeking practical help from people believed to possess special knowledge. Known in that era as cunning folk, wise men, or wise women, these practitioners might offer herbal remedies, interpret dreams, tell fortunes, locate lost property, or provide charms intended to protect against harm. Some claimed to identify witches or counteract their spells.

Such practices could be accepted, even welcomed, by people who otherwise took their Christian faith seriously. The ability to heal an illness or protect a household might be seen as useful rather than threatening. People could believe in harmful witchcraft while simultaneously seeking magical assistance to defend themselves against it.

The distinction between helpful magic and harmful witchcraft was not always clear-cut. Religious authorities might condemn practices that ordinary people considered harmless, and a person’s reputation could change depending on how their actions were interpreted. The same broad cultural world accommodated both the search for protection and the fear of supernatural attack.

When Suspicion Became a Capital Crime

For suspicion to become a criminal case, it needed a legal system willing to recognize witchcraft as an offense and impose punishment for it.

Three elements could help turn an accusation into a prosecution:

  • A perceived breach of community norms: Someone was believed to threaten the community’s religious or social order.
  • An allegation of harm: A person attributed suffering or misfortune to another’s actions.
  • Authorities willing to prosecute: Magistrates accepted the allegation as a matter for the courts.

The law gave these accusations a force they would not otherwise have possessed. England’s Witchcraft Act of 1604 imposed severe penalties for specified forms of witchcraft and helped shape the legal traditions English settlers brought to North America. Connecticut made witchcraft a capital offense in 1642, five years before the colony’s first documented execution.

Witchcraft was therefore more than a matter of private belief or community gossip. Colonial authorities treated it as a crime, and a conviction could mean death. Religious assumptions helped define the offense, while the courts gave those assumptions the power of the state.

Before Salem, There Was Connecticut

The Salem witch trials of 1692 remain the best-known episode of witchcraft persecution in colonial America, but Connecticut’s earlier cases deserve a place in that history. They demonstrate that witchcraft prosecutions were already part of New England’s legal landscape decades before Salem.

Connecticut’s cases also offer a window into the relationship between law and society. Courts do not operate in isolation; they reflect the assumptions and priorities of the communities they serve. In seventeenth-century Connecticut, religious beliefs about supernatural forces shaped what authorities considered criminal and how they interpreted allegations of harm.

The cases raise questions that remain relevant to the study of law today. How reliable is evidence gathered in an atmosphere of fear? How can prevailing social beliefs influence legal proceedings? What safeguards are necessary when accusations carry severe consequences?

These questions are particularly important when considering a crime that depended on claims about supernatural acts that could not be established through ordinary observation. The historical context helps explain why colonial authorities took such allegations seriously, but it also reveals the dangers of allowing prevailing beliefs and public anxieties to shape criminal justice.

A Little Legal History for Halloween

The story also has a modern epilogue. In May 2023, Connecticut’s legislature formally absolved 12 people convicted of colonial-era witchcraft, acknowledging that the accusations were unfounded and that the proceedings failed to meet modern standards of justice. The resolution also recognized the suffering inflicted on the accused and their descendants.

This Halloween, as ghosts, goblins, and witches take center stage, spare a thought for the real people accused of witchcraft in early Connecticut. Their stories reveal a darker side of the colony’s history, when religious conviction, social insecurity, and criminal law could combine to determine a person’s fate.

Want to explore the history for yourself? Visit the law library to discover historical statutes and scholarship illuminating Connecticut’s early witchcraft prosecutions.  Some of which are now on display across from the library’s front desk!

After all, the past can be frightening enough without a ghost story. Sometimes the most haunting stories are the ones found in the law books.

Congo Week 2026

Congo Week is taking place this year from October 18-24th.  The purpose of Congo Week every year is to raise global consciousness about the situation in the Congo and advocate for peace, justice and human dignity in partnership with the Congolese people.

First started in 2008, and now celebrated around the world, Congo Week honors the millions of lives lost in the Congo conflict while recognizing the resilience, dignity, and potential of the Congolese people. This year’s theme is sovereignty:  The Congolese people’s dignified pursuit to control their land, resources, wealth, data and ultimately their affairs.

Feel free to read the 15 books selected to represent a few issues related to this year’s theme in the book display across from the front desk of the library.  Or have a look at these handy PDFs for a primer:

Either way, be sure to join any and every opportunity offered to examine the global forces shaping the DRC and their implications for law, human rights, and social justice.  Because law’s promise of justice for all is often best understood by examining where it falls short, our role in why that may be the case, and what it would take to close that gap for everyone.

What Makes Lawyers Happy?

Law Student Mental Health Day is a chance to look beyond surviving law school and think intentionally about the life you want to build in the law.

Why did you go to law school? It’s a question worth considering as UConn Law celebrates Well-Being Week, culminating with what the American Bar Association has designated Law Student Mental Health Day on October 10th (falling this year on a Saturday, the best mental health gift of all, a day off in theory).  The programs on offer are not merely pleasant breaks from the grind. They encourage skills and habits that may prove just as important as anything learned in the classroom, applicable as law school is bearing down on you and even more relevant as you enter a profession with a complicated reputation for well-being. Insert lawyer joke here.

Why did I go to law school? The honest answer is that I didn’t know what else to do with my life. I was a political science major teaching English in Japan and had reached something of a dead end when a friend suggested that we study for the LSAT. I was curious about how the law worked, so why not jump into the deep end? At least I got to do it in Hawai’i.

I suspect my decision was not so different from those of many students around the country. Plenty of people have committed to three demanding years and a substantial amount of money to the vague idea of pursuing a legal career, perhaps because someone once told them they were good at arguing. The good news is that it worked out for me, though not exactly how I had expected. I discovered ways to use my legal training beyond the courtroom-centered path that law school often emphasizes, first as a legislative attorney and now as an academic law librarian.  And it’s truly what I want for you too, for it all to work out.

What does any of this have to do with mental health? Quite a lot actually. I was fortunate to stumble onto a path that has brought me plenty of professional satisfaction and personal happiness, but getting there was not all sunshine and roses. There were difficult stretches, and for a time I fell into a coping pattern that is all too familiar within the legal profession, drinking too much with friends after a hard day. Eventually, I reached a point where I could begin prioritizing my well-being. But I can also see how easily things might have gone in another direction, particularly if stuck in a work environment where no amount of yoga could fix the underlying problem.

That is why intentionality matters. Understanding what is likely to support your long-term happiness can help you make more deliberate choices now about courses, experiences, workplaces, and the kind of lawyer you hope to become.  There’s no need to rely solely on luck and hope that the struggle will be worth it like I did.

The ABA’s Mental Health Toolkit for Law Students points to the study, “What Makes Lawyers Happy?: A Data-Driven Prescription to Redefine Professional Success.” Drawing on data from several thousand lawyers, the study found that the factors most strongly associated with well-being were internal and psychological: feeling competent, having autonomy, being authentic, and feeling connected to others. Money- and status-oriented measures, including income, class rank, law review membership, and law school ranking, had little to no association with lawyer well-being. Billable hours naturally had a negative reported impact. It’s a counterintuitive finding that the things that law school makes easiest to measure and pursue are not necessarily the things that will make a legal career satisfying.

Whatever brought you to law school, you are here now. There is no better time to think critically about what you want your future to look like and what you want your legal education to make possible. The research suggests that some choices will matter far more to your well-being than the conventional markers of success.

My hope is that Law Student Mental Health Day gives you room to think beyond managing stress in the moment. It can also be an invitation to think bigger: What kind of work will give you purpose? Where will you have autonomy? In what settings can you be yourself and build meaningful connections with others? What would it mean to pursue a legal career with your well-being treated not as an afterthought, but as a priority?  Big questions for sure, but even in considering them, you are probably left already headed in a happier direction.

Hope to see you at yoga!