As Salem's Haunted Happenings celebration cranks into full gear, the city's streets are often filled with visitors dressed and made up as evil old crones, the likes of whom once terrified the residents of local communities.

Mammy Redd, for example, was a 17th-century Marblehead fisherman's wife of whom it was said, "Sweet milk could turn/To mould in a churn."

Had that been the worst activity attributed to her, Mammy Redd might have survived the infamous Salem witch trials of 1692. But according to Marblehead historian Samuel Roads Jr., the local woman was also believed to have caused the illness and deaths of her neighbors' little ones simply by "wishing that a 'bloody cleaver' might be found on the cradles of their infant children."

Even if she was as unpleasant as her neighbors thought, and as she is sometimes made out to be in print, Mammy did not deserve to die on Gallows Hill. Curiously, however, she was "done in" not by fellow 'Headers, but by young women from neighboring communities.

In the century or so following the conclusion of that terrible time, Dogtown on Cape Ann developed a reputation for being a haven for witches. Many of these were considered "benign" by local residents, but there were a few exceptions.

The most feared were Lucy "Old Luce" George and her niece, Tammy Younger. Unfortunately for local residents, the road to the Dogtown mill went right past Old Luce's front door. Generations of Gloucesterites, terrified of Luce's evil eye and Tammy's vicious tongue, had to bribe the bewitching pair with a little of whatever they might be taking to the mill in order to pass safely.

If an intended victim failed to cooperate with Old Luce, she was said to be capable of freezing their oxen on the spot. The animals would be allowed to proceed with their cargo only upon payment of the mandatory tribute by their owners.

Luce was also known to meet local schooners as they returned to their Gloucester wharves laden with fish. Those on board were more than willing to share their catch with her. Certainly it was an acceptable alternative to incurring Luce's legendary wrath and falling prey to her alleged supernatural powers.

Another of Gloucester's best known "witches" was the scary Peg Wesson.

Peg was known to entertain local fishermen, and her home near the Gloucester garrison was a place where one could get a drink.

One particular story about Peg appears in many Gloucester histories. Supposedly, in 1745, a handful of men about to embark on a military mission against the French at Louisburg in Canada, stopped at her home for a last night of entertainment. Things got out of hand, and by the end of the evening Peg felt she had been abused and insulted by her guests. As they departed, she vowed to extract a measure of revenge — a sobering thought for the offenders given the crone's reputation.

In the months that followed, while bivouacked outside the fort at Louisburg, that same group of soldiers became aware that a large black crow had taken to pestering them. The men fired repeatedly at the offending bird, but even what they believed to be a direct hit didn't seem to stop it. The vow of revenge uttered by Peg Wesson loomed larger in their minds as the days wore on, and the group came to the conclusion that the crow was actually a crone in disguise.

The only way to kill such an evil spirit was with a silver bullet, and a button from one of their uniforms was pressed into service. The marksman chosen for the job did not disappoint; a shot in the leg sent the crow spiraling to the ground where, according to one account, it was immediately strangled to death by the relieved soldiers.

The saga of Peg Wesson and the soldiers was not over, however. When the men returned home to Gloucester they learned that at the exact moment the crow had been shot in the leg, Peg had taken a fall outside her home and broken her leg. The doctor who treated her reportedly pulled from her injured leg a silver bullet similar to the one used to fell the crow hundreds of miles a way.

Sadly for us, there is no record of any future interaction between the two parties.

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Jim McAllister of Salem writes a weekly column on the region's history. Contact him at jim@nii.net.