Blog Post #5: Newt

 

Almost every time our class mentions the near-ridiculous methods for determining a woman’s affinity for witchcraft, I think of a specific scene from my favorite movie of all time. That movie is Monty Python and the Holy Grail and that scene, as fans of the movie might surmise, is the one in which King Arthur visits Sir Bedivere during a witch trial. While the scene is, of course, funny it its own right simply because the villagers’ many logical fallacies, an added level of hilarity emerges once one realizes, as I have, that these fallacies are not tremendously far off from their real-life counterparts. So, what better way to ring in the middle of the semester than by referencing one of the funniest movies of all time, at least according to me. Right.

The beginning of the scene pokes fun at the faulty eyewitness testimony provided by the townsfolk during many of these witch trials. For example, in the Martha Carrier trial, a man named John Rogger testified “that upon the threatening words of this malicious Carrier, his Cattle would be strangely bewitched.” While those two events are almost certainly unrelated, Rogger’s testimony was nonetheless admitted as evidence, leading towards Carrier’s ultimate execution. Similarly, though, in the Monty Python trial, an unnamed villager loudly proclaims, “She turned me into a newt!” Surprisingly, even his fellow villagers were taken aback, coaxing a much quieter “I got better” out of the man.

Next, though, Monty Python mocks the reasoning many townsfolk employed during their original accusation. After all, upon Bedivere’s query as to why they think she is a witch, the most uproarious answer is “She looks like one!”. This is indeed hilarious, but, again, it is not absurdly off the mark. Many accused witches became so because of their appearance; almost any elderly widow during this time was at risk of such finger-pointing. One was specifically at risk if they had a “witches’ teat” or any other bodily irregularity that supposedly implied evildoing. Monty Python plays with this fact as well, having the townsfolk point out the suspect’s wart as key evidence in their accusation.

Despite all of this, however, the coup de grâce is the “practical” means these villagers use for resolving their situation. Much like the practice of “swimming”, which held that the women who drowned in water would be deemed innocent and the women that survived would be sentenced to death, Sir Bedivere – the wisest of the bunch – proposes that the villagers compare the suspect’s weight to that of a duck. Utilizing what is perhaps the latent reasoning behind “swimming”, Bedivere states that because witches are made of wood (of course), and because wood floats in water, then witches are also able to float in water. As anyone knows, buoyancy is entirely dependent on one’s weight. Therefore, when the accused woman does weigh the same as a specially selected duck, her fate is sealed.

One villager also reasons that because she is made of wood, the townsfolk could also “build a bridge out of her.” Unfortunately, his suggestion is dismissed. Still though, while the Monty Python scenario is clearly played for laughs, the statements from the villagers are not terribly far off from their real-life precedents. Either way, if anyone needs some levity after a depressing discussion about another Massachusetts-based mockery of justice, they can watch this incredible scene using the link below. Right. 

Monty Python Witch Trial: https://youtu.be/X2xlQaimsGg?si=3INmiDizfChvP9dN