Elizabeth Proctor Death Letter

Submitted By Julieta-Arellano
Words: 694
Pages: 3

Good morning members of the High Commission. I would like to thank y’all for allowing the opportunity to manifest my version of the events that leaded to the hangings. As you may or may not know, my name is Elizabeth Proctor. I’ve been widowed for two years now, after the brutally death of my beloved husband John Proctor, I were left only with sorrow, in care of 3 boys and a two years old girl.
We’ve come together to build up Salem leaded by our Lord’s will. Men fought the land like heroes for every grain of corn, and no man had very much time for foolin’ around. We used to be a community that sits together to listen to the Gospel and sing Lord’s praise. But what are we now? What we have become? I never knew what pretense Salem was. Justice was a temporary thing that came to an end with the witch trials. Innocent victims such as Goody Osborne, Goody Nurse, Goody Corey, George Jacobs and my good husband John, were unjustly hanged by the ridiculous accusations of a group of pretenders. My husband John Proctor, were a humble farmer who died to spare my life after I were accused of witchery. He were tortured, starved and thus he decided to die rather than lose his name and admit to witchcraft. He did this to maintain the good, honorable name of Proctor.
Who accused me you may ask? Abigail Williams, a vindictive child willin’ to kill me to take my place and marry my husband on the proof of a poppet!. Dismissed from my housekeeping after seducing my husband. A belligerent, ruthless, manipulative creature of only 19! She practiced witchery in the forest and once caught she started blamin’ everyone for her mistakes! She manipulated the gullible and naïve Mary Warren to tell lies for her. She vanished from Salem on a ship after robbin’ until the last penny of her uncle, bitin’ the hand that fed her. For what purpose? To avoid the consequences of her lies. And now she be back to bring back all the madness to Salem.
Because of her my children are fatherless and now it gets harder to bring home our daily bread. I've cried, and you'd think I'd be better for it, but the sadness just sleeps, and it stays in my spine the rest of my life. In my days of deepest grief, in all my shock, sorrow and struggle I sat at the feet of God. I do sin but I’m no devil, I’d rather die than to go against good Lord’s will. I was forced to lie to the Honorable court of Salem about my husband’s adultery, defending my good name and my