Hour of the Witch

Thomas Deerfield, the novel’s antagonist, is 45 years old. He is 20 years older than Mary, who is his second wife. Thomas is emblematic of both Puritan hypocrisy and the misogyny rampant in the community: While in public he is a well-respected miller with a good reputation, in private he is violent and ruthless. He is also the most extreme manifestation of patriarchal oppression in the novel, as his actions expose the brutal logic that justifies violence against women and the ways in which it is socially sanctified.

Thomas frequently tells Mary that he knows he can get away with his violence toward her and, in many cases, society proves him right. Thomas tells Mary, before he stabs her hand, “[I don’t] believe there is a man or woman in this city who views me as cruel. Most people? They think I’m docile as a fawn” (75). Thomas is cunning and uses his stature as a respected man in society to hide his violence, including the murder of his first wife, Anne. Thomas “knew the wrongness of the blows and wanted not for others to see the evidence of his barbarity” (168), which runs in direct opposition to his outward performance in front of others. Thomas’s cruelty is reinforced by the societal misogyny displayed during Mary’s trial, such as when Caleb asks if Thomas views “discipline as a form of guidance,” or if Mary did anything to “encourage the beatings” (168, emphasis added)—comments which defend Thomas and condemn Mary by suggesting Thomas has the right to dominate and hurt her. Thomas knows this will happen and so manipulates circumstances to hide and justify his brutality.

Thomas believes, up until his final breath, that he will forever hold power over both Peregrine and Mary. He beats Peregrine in front of Sam, who then takes part in beating Peregrine too. Thomas is therefore the embodiment of rampant misogyny and brutality which women like Mary must struggle against to live lives free of violence and fear. 

Catherine Stileman is the 18-year-old servant girl working for the Deerfields. She is Mary’s primary accuser, and Thomas’s admirer and defendant. Her brother William dies and eventually becomes the catalyst for Catherine’s suspicions that Mary is a witch.

Catherine’s character is an illustration of both The Dangers of Hysteria and Gender Roles and Violence Against Women. For example, Catherine tells Mary when they meet outside of church after she discovers Mary with the tines in the ground: “Thou art barren but desire a child. Thou took the Devil’s tines and a pestle and were using them to perform a kind of dark magic that night. I know what I saw” (116). Catherine, like many women in the novel, is both the victim and perpetrator of gender roles and hysteria that sends women to their violent deaths. In her eyes, Mary’s barrenness could be a cause to consort with the Devil. Catherine experiences little character development throughout the story, making her a static character. She receives better treatment from Thomas and the courts than Mary does because she is already submissive and subservient to dominant ideologies. Ironically, however, Catherine has hidden sins of her own: She lusts after Thomas so much that she will send Mary to the gallows for witchcraft. She is thus another example of moral hypocrisy in the novel.

Peregrine Cooke, daughter of Thomas Deerfield and stepdaughter to Mary, is the same age as Mary. She has two children with her husband, Jonathan Cooke. Peregrine, whose motivations throughout the novel remain a mystery to both Mary and the reader until the very end, reveals the abuse she experienced at the hands of her father and finally validates what Mary has experienced.

Peregrine acts as a tool through which dramatic irony and mystery of the novel plays out: The reader knows Thomas is violent, but until Peregrine appears at Mary’s cell in the end, only Mary, Thomas, and the reader know the brutal nature of Thomas up close. Peregrine is also responsible for the “witchcraft” in Mary’s house: She buried the tines, carved the Devil’s mark in Mary’s door, and even tried to poison Thomas with boiled apples and raisins. Her actions reinforce the extent to which oppressed women in the novel will work to escape the brutal reign of misogyny and patriarchy embodied by Thomas. Her assistance in helping Mary escape at the novel’s end makes her another important female support for Mary.

Mary’s love interest, Henry Simmons, is the nephew of Valentine Hill and a friend to James Burden. Henry, handsome and strong, has coal-black hair and thinks independently. He’s viewed by other characters in the novel as “too glib and too confident of his status in this world [...] consort[ing] with the damned and the poor and the savages” (107), meaning that Henry seems not to care about abiding by societal pressures, instead spending more time attending to people in society that others avoid or ignore.

Mary’s relationship with Henry helps propel her character arc. He inspires her both to feel desire and to act on it, enabling Mary to experience a sense of sexual and romantic agency. He does what he can to protect her, even speaking up at her trial and lying about their kiss to ensure she is not tried for adultery. At the novel’s end, he escapes Boston with Mary and builds a happy new life with her back home in England, providing her with the kind of loving companionship Thomas always denied her.

Though Henry operates as a kind of foil to Thomas, Henry is not the hero of the story. Mary, with the help of Peregrine, Rebeckah, and Constance, is her own hero. Henry is, instead, one piece of the brighter future to which Mary clings as she works to free herself from the abusive marriage she is in and the society that refuses to allow Mary her dignity or humanity.

Constance Winston is older than Mary and is “an independent woman with a subversive streak in her soul” (273). She was friends with Ann Hibbins, a “witch” who was hanged in Boston in 1656 (a true historical event). Constance becomes Mary’s strongest supporter and helps Mary to escape her violent husband and the clutches of a judgmental, dangerous society, of which Constance is not afraid.

Constance represents a defiant and skeptical spirit toward Puritan society that Mary eventually comes to admire and embody. Early in the novel, when Mary is going through her divorce trial, Constance expresses support for Mary, but Mary is nervous about being seen with her. Later, however, as Mary grows in determination, she openly associates with Constance, no longer fearing for her reputation. She even confides in Constance about her murder plot, which Constance advises her about.

Constance is, however, keenly aware of the dangers ostracism can bring, and she helps Mary navigate the treacherous waters ahead of her while she schemes a way out of her marriage. Constance reflects the same clarity and wisdom Mary eventually reaches as she develops throughout the narrative, and her support forms part of the core network of female friends who eventually help secure Mary’s freedom.