Hawthorne's first American ancestor, William Hathorne [the family spelled
the named differently then], came to Massachusetts colony from England in
1630; he became a member of the House of Delegates and a major of the Salem
Militia. His son John Hathorne was one of the judges during the Salem witchcraft
trails of 1692; unlike the majority of his colleagues, he refused to repent
his role once the hysteria had passed.
Here is part of Hawthorne's description of them in his preface:
"The figure of that first ancestor, invested by family tradition with
a dim and dusky grandeur, was present to my boyish imagination, as far back
as I can remember. It still haunts me.... I seem to have a stronger claim
to a residence here on account of this grave, bearded, sable-cloaked, and
steeple-crowned progenitor, who came so early, with his Bible and his sword,
and trode the unworn street with such a stately port, and made so large
a figure, as a man of war and peace, a stronger claim than for myself, whose
name is seldom heard and my face hardly known. He was a soldier, legislator,
judge; he was a ruler in the church; he had all the Puritanic traits, both
good and evil. He was likewise a bitter persecutor; as witness the Quakers,
who have remembered him in their histories.... His son, too, inherited the
persecuting spirit, and made himself so conspicuous in the martyrdom of
the witches, that their blood may fairly be said to have left a stain upon
him.... I, the present writer, as their representative, hereby take shame
upon myself for their sakes, and pray that any curse incurred by themas
I have heard, and as the dreary and unprosperous condition of the race,
for many a long year back, would argue to existmay be now and henceforth
removed....."
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Hawthorne then recounts the trials and boredom of working as the main customs
inspector or surveyor in the Custom-House in the port of Salem, Massachusetts,
a job he got through political connections and lost 3 years later when the
party he favored was voted out of office. He invents finding a scarlet letter
among the many commercial items stored in the warehouse to be "surveyed"
by him:
"...My eyes fastened themselves on the old scarlet letter, and would
not be turned aside. Certainly, there was some deep meaning in it, most
worthy of interpretation, and which, as it were, streamed forth from the
mystic symbol, subtly communicating itself to my sensibilities, but evading
the analysis of my mind.
"While thus perplexed, and cogitating, among other hypotheses, whether
the letter might not have been one of those decorations which the white
men used to contrive, in order to take the eyes of Indians, I happened to
place it on my breast. It seemed to methe reader may smile, but must not
doubt my word, it seemed to me, then, that I experienced a sensation not
altogether physical, yet almost so, as of burning heat; and as if the letter
were not of red cloth, but red-hot iron. I shuddered, and involuntarily
let it fall upon the floor."