The Grim’s Guide to Graveyards in Salem
Charter Street Cemetery in Salem, Ma
We’re deep in the heart of spooky season, when the veil thins and all things haunted begin to stir. I had planned to take you to another graveyard this week, but inspiration led me down a slightly different path. Instead, I’m sharing something special: A Grim’s Guide to the Graveyards of Salem, a collection of history, hauntings, and the quiet beauty found among the stones of the Witch City. Many don’t realize that Salem is home to eight historic cemeteries, each with its own story to tell of tragedy, reverence, and restless memory. Some hold quiet ties to the witch trials themselves; others whisper of the generations that followed, forever shaped by that dark legacy.
While I’ll be exploring each of these cemeteries in full episodes on The Grim Podcast, and some have already had their time beneath the moon, this guide is meant to be something a little different. It’s a quick companion for wanderers and daydreamers alike, touching on the hauntings and lore that linger among Salem’s oldest stones. Salem’s streets often hum with footsteps and voices, the air thick with curiosity and candle smoke. In the bustle, it’s easy to pass by these resting places without a second glance, and when that happens, a little of the Witch City’s quiet magic fades into the fog. So, whether you wander here in the flesh or drift along in spirit, let’s begin our walk among the stones.
With so many historic burial grounds in Salem, you might be wondering which ones are worth seeing.
What Are the Historic Graveyards of Salem?
Salem holds eight historic cemeteries, each a chapter in the city’s ongoing dialogue between the living and the dead. More than burial grounds, they are open-air archives — recording centuries of faith, fear, and resilience. Some bear direct ties to the Witch Trials of 1692, while others echo the quieter sorrows of generations that followed. Together, they offer an unmatched glimpse into early New England’s culture, beliefs, and its haunted imagination. Visiting these sites is to step back through time. The carvings, the architecture, even the layout of the graves reflect shifting views on life, death, and eternity. For visitors in search of both history and atmosphere, Salem’s graveyards are a sacred and spectral journey.
A Quick History of Salem’s Burial Grounds
Salem’s oldest cemetery, Charter Street Cemetery—also known as the Old Burying Point—was established in 1637, making it one of the oldest in the United States. It stood witness to the Witch Trials, the rise of Puritanism, and the birth of a nation. Though the victims of 1692 were not buried here, the judges who condemned them were. As Salem expanded through the 18th and 19th centuries, additional cemeteries emerged — Howard Street Cemetery, Broad Street Cemetery, and Greenlawn Cemetery, among others — each reflecting the city’s growth and changing relationship with mortality. From humble slate markers to elaborate Victorian mausoleums, these sites mirror the evolution of grief, remembrance, and artistry.
Exploring the Historic Cemeteries of Salem
1. Charter Street Cemetery (The Old Burying Point)
At the heart of downtown Salem, tucked behind busy Essex Street, stands the Old Burying Point, perhaps the city’s most famous resting place. Founded in 1637, it’s now surrounded by shops, tourists, and the murmur of the Witch Trials Memorial nearby. Step inside, and time seems to stop. The stones lean with age, inscriptions fading under centuries of rain and reverence.
Two names dominate the cemetery’s lore: Judge John Hathorne and Bartholomew Gedney, both presiding over the Witch Trials. Their graves are unassuming yet heavy with consequence, drawing visitors who wish to feel the weight of history’s judgment. A quick tip before you go: you will need a reservation to enter the cemetery or skip the long lines. The good news is that reservations are free, but they must be made the same day as your visit. The grounds are enclosed by an old stone wall and a city attendant keeps watch at the single gate, allowing visitors in and out one way only. Though the cemetery stood during the time of the witch trials, its soil does not cradle the victims themselves. Even so, the presence of Judges Hathorne and Gedney marks the ground with a heavy history. With the Witch Trials Memorial just beyond the gate, it is easy to understand why many feel this place still bears the weight of those haunted days.
The memorial, created by architect and artist duo James Cutler and Maggie Smith and funded by the National Endowment for the Arts, has received national acclaim for both its stark beauty and its solemn purpose. On August 5, 1992, Nobel Laureate Elie Wiesel dedicated the space, a fitting voice to honor those silenced by fear. The memorial was designed as a place of quiet reflection, where remembrance lingers in the air like a whisper. Step through, and you will find the names of twenty souls etched in stone, men and women condemned in 1692, their only crime born of hysteria and superstition. The path of the memorial leads gently toward the cemetery gate, guiding visitors closer to where history and memory intertwine. It serves as a haunting prelude, a moment to pause, breathe, and feel the weight of what came before you step within.
If graveyards are not your thing, do not worry. You do not need a reservation to walk the memorial. It is open to all who wish to pay their respects or simply feel the quiet power of the place. I have always found it fascinating, and a little ironic, that Judges Hathorne and Gedney, the very men who condemned the accused, are buried just feet away from this memorial. The stones of the innocent may not rest here, but the shadows of their judges do. It is as if history itself placed them side by side, forever bound in silence just as they were once bound in judgment.
One of the biggest misconceptions about Charter Street is that it holds the graves of the so-called witches. It does not. The memorial marks their memory, not their resting places. Those accused were believed to be in league with the devil and were denied burial in consecrated ground. After their executions, families quietly gathered what they could of their loved ones under the cover of darkness. To this day, the true resting places of the victims remain unknown. There are a few strong leads currently being explored, but nothing has ever been fully confirmed.
Now, is Charter Street haunted? Many believe it is, and the grounds have been named among the most haunted burial sites in America. The claims begin with the environment itself. Visitors report sudden, physical chills that have nothing to do with the weather, paired with the unnerving feeling of being watched even when the path ahead is empty. Shadowy figures are glimpsed moving between the oldest stones, often dressed in styles from three centuries ago. Even those who work here are not immune. Caretakers have reported ghost lights, small pale glows near the Puritan-era graves, that vanish the moment you approach. Visitors often feel a tug on their clothing or hear footsteps behind them, only to turn and find no one there.
Perhaps the most unsettling phenomenon is sound. Low murmurs, too faint to form words, seem to rise from the earth itself. Are they the echoes of the accused, or the endless regret of the judges who condemned them? Some whispers are said to belong to Judge John Hathorne, who rests here. The energy does not stop with the judges. Many believe the victims themselves fuel the unrest. While Giles Corey was crushed outside the cemetery, his defiant spirit, and that of his wife, Mary Corey, who is interred within, anchor a furious energy to the grounds.
Whatever its source, the energy of Charter Street is undeniable. The veil between the living and the dead feels tissue-thin, and every shadow seems to hold a story. The haunting here feels ancient, older than the city itself. Yet, if you follow the narrow streets just a few blocks away, you will find a place where that heaviness deepens, and the presence of the past might be even stronger.
2. Howard Street Cemetery
Howard Street Cemetery is the second must-see on The Grim’s list, featured on Season One, Episode 16 of the podcast. This is where one of Salem’s most harrowing stories unfolded, the death of Giles Corey, the only man in the witch trials to be pressed to death. The cemetery’s paths are narrow, the stones lean like weary old men, and the air feels just a touch heavier, as if the earth itself remembers its painful past. Within these grounds lies Giles Corey, pressed to death in 1692, his final cries buried beneath the weight of stones.
You might be thinking, “Wait, I thought the witches couldn’t be buried on consecrated ground?” You’re right, but here’s the twist. Howard Street Cemetery didn’t exist in 1692. The grounds were not established as a burial site until 1801, nearly a century later. So while Giles Corey was originally denied burial on consecrated land, he is now, in fact, laid to rest within Howard Street Cemetery in an unmarked grave. The exact spot may be unknown, but the weight of his story lingers among the leaning stones, and the shadows of that tragic history still seem to whisper along the paths.
Some say that if you walk slowly here, you might feel a sudden chill, a coldness that has nothing to do with the wind. Others report faint whispers, barely audible, that rise and fall with the rhythm of your footsteps. Some believe it is Corey, still trapped in the agony of that cruel punishment, bound to the ground where his last struggle played out. Corey is not alone. The energy of the accused witches, denied proper graves and forced into secret burials, lingers among the stones.
Cold air gathers where the earth dips, a whisper of what was never laid to rest. Visitors speak of unseen movement, a flicker at the edge of sight, a sudden chill tracing the spine. Sometimes it feels as if someone walks beside you, silent and unseen, until the path grows still again. From the darker corners come the faintest sounds, a sigh, a step, a name carried on the wind. The unmarked dead may have no epitaphs, but their presence is unmistakable, woven into the ground itself. It is no wonder that Howard Street Cemetery becomes a favorite on midnight ghost tours, especially on a chilly October night, when the air seems to thicken and the past feels closer than ever.
3. Broad Street Cemetery
Founded in 1655, Broad Street Cemetery is Salem’s quiet sentinel. Less visited than Charter or Howard Street, it is home to Judge Jonathan Corwin and Sheriff George Corwin, both entwined with the grim history of the Witch Trials. Their resting place is solemn, the air heavy with old remorse. Here, hauntings are subtle, the faint scent of candle smoke without flame, shadows that take no shape. Broad Street does not shout; it whispers. Its silence tells stories only the patient can hear.
A short walk from Howard Street brings visitors to Broad Street Cemetery, one of Salem’s lesser-known historic grounds, yet no less steeped in shadow. Unlike the more famous cemeteries of Charter and Howard Street, Broad Street feels quieter, almost hidden, tucked between streets that have long carried the bustle of the living. The stones lean with age, worn smooth by wind and rain, many etched with names, dates, and symbols that whisper of lives long past. It may lack the immediate notoriety of Charter Street or the tragic weight of Howard Street, but Broad Street carries its own energy, a sense of stories held just beneath the surface, of lives remembered in subtle, lingering ways.
Even in daylight, visitors often remark on the unsettling stillness. As dusk falls, the shadows stretch between the stones, shifting and swaying, as though the past itself has begun to stir.
Opened in 1655, Broad Street Cemetery is Salem’s second-oldest burial ground, and at its heart lies the Corwin family plot, resting place of Judge Jonathan Corwin and Sheriff George Corwin, men whose hands shaped the fates of many during the witch trials of 1692. These are the same Corwins who once dwelled in the Witch House, which still stands today. Their presence here is subtle but unmistakable, a quiet weight lingering in the corners of the graveyard where time itself seems reluctant to pass.
On still nights, the faint scent of candle smoke or the ghost of long-faded flowers drifts across the grounds, though no flame burns and no hand has placed a bloom. Lights flicker where no lantern shines. Figures are glimpsed at the edge of vision, vanishing when you turn, while whispers linger in the dark and dissolve the moment you strain to hear. Unlike the raw grief that clings to Howard Street, Broad Street’s hauntings are quieter, almost intimate, a sigh in the night, a fleeting glance, a chill that curls deeper than the evening air.
Walk these paths after dusk, and history presses close. The long dead seem to breathe through the stones, as if Salem itself has folded time into the earth. Here, the shadows are never far, and sometimes they are watching.
4. Greenlawn Cemetery
Established in the 19th century, Greenlawn Cemetery marks a shift from Puritan austerity to Victorian romanticism. With sprawling lawns, colorful foliage, and ornate mausoleums, it feels more like a garden than a graveyard. Its rolling grounds and carefully arranged monuments reflect a more peaceful, contemplative approach to memory and mourning.
In autumn, Greenlawn becomes breathtaking. Amber and crimson leaves form a beautiful veil over the centuries below, turning every path into a quiet corridor of memory. Unlike some of Salem’s older burial grounds, Greenlawn offers a sense of calm and reflection, inviting visitors to pause and appreciate both history and the season.
Leaving the quiet shadows of Broad Street behind, a short journey by car or a long walk brings you to Greenlawn, one of Salem’s newer historic grounds, yet no less touched by the weight of memory. The cemetery stretches across rolling plots, with rows of upright stones and family mausoleums that tell stories of generations past.
Greenlawn is also a haven for autumn enthusiasts. Its mature trees blaze in brilliant shades of gold, red, and orange, and wandering its paths in the fall is quietly magical. The crisp air, the rustle of leaves underfoot, and the soft glow of autumn light across centuries-old stones create a serene and beautiful setting where history and the season intertwine.
5. Harmony Grove Cemetery
From the quiet charm of Greenlawn, we now move to Harmony Grove Cemetery, a historic gem in Salem that is less about hauntings and more about serene reflection and natural beauty. Located a bit farther from the city center, it is well worth the walk. Established in the mid-19th century, Harmony Grove was designed as a garden cemetery, with winding paths, ornamental trees, and thoughtfully arranged monuments that invite visitors to wander and reflect.
While Harmony Grove does not carry the ghostly stories of Salem’s older cemeteries, its calm beauty makes it a favorite for photographers, nature lovers, and anyone seeking a contemplative walk where history and nature intertwine. The gentle curves of the paths, the rustle of leaves underfoot, and the quiet presence of centuries-old stones create a space that feels both timeless and restorative.
6. Friends Burying Ground
Tucked quietly behind the bustle of modern Salem, further down Essex Street and away from the city’s crowded heart, lies the Friends Burying Ground, the city’s third-oldest and by far its smallest cemetery. Its earliest stone, worn and pale, bears the name Cestofor Foster, dated 1702. Nearby rest members of the Southwick family, once pillars of Salem’s Quaker community. In 1718, the Religious Society of Friends built their second meeting house here, replacing an earlier one that stood further east along Essex Street. It was dismantled around 1832, yet the ground it was sanctified on remains, a silent witness to centuries of faith, endurance, and persecution. A cruel irony lingers here: in a town founded by those fleeing religious oppression, others were condemned for the way they chose to worship.
During the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, Salem stood at the heart of New England Quakerism. The first Friends arrived in the 1650s and met with hostility. Many were driven out or punished under the harsh laws of the Massachusetts Bay Colony. Yet their quiet endurance outlasted those who sought to silence them.
Today, the Friends Burying Ground endures in gentle simplicity. Its modest headstones and quiet air reflect the Quaker spirit. Though it may not rank high among Salem’s more dramatic resting places, it holds its own quiet charm. Some may find it humble after visiting Charter or Howard Street, yet there is a certain peace here, a stillness that feels almost sacred in its restraint.
7. Old Burial Hill (Marblehead)
For many visitors, a trip to Salem is inspired by the cult classic Hocus Pocus. And if you’re wondering which of the cemeteries we’ve explored so far appeared in the film, the answer is none. Social media has made this a popular question, with tourists often asking about the Sanderson sisters’ house or the graveyards. The truth is that the Sanderson sisters are entirely fictional, loosely inspired by the lore of witches in Salem. It’s a fun story, but we needed to clear that up for some fans.
Some visitors enjoy touring filming locations around the city, like Allison’s house, Max’s house, or Town Hall, but the graveyard used for many of the later scenes was a movie set, not a real Salem cemetery. The graveyard seen during Max’s bike scene, however, does exist. It’s in Marblehead, just a 15–20 minute walk from downtown Salem or a quick five-minute drive. That scene was filmed on Old Burial Hill, which offers breathtaking views of the coast framed by weathered stones perched on the hill. It’s a stunning spot and was even featured in Season 1, Episode 22 of The Grim.
Old Burial Hill in Marblehead is one of New England’s oldest cemeteries, established in 1638. Its weathered stones whisper tales from the Puritan era through the Revolutionary War. Stepping onto its paths, you can feel centuries of history pressing in, and perhaps more than just history.
Among the graves is a memorial for Wilmot Redd, a woman executed for witchcraft in 1692. Legend holds that her curse still lingers over the town, a silent reminder of fear, injustice, and lives lost to hysteria. The tomb of the Pierce family is said to host restless spirits, bound to the graveyard by the desecration of their resting place. One infamous story tells of a 19-year-old visitor who dared to take a selfie with a skull from the tomb, a prank that, according to legend, invited lingering shadows and misfortune.
Visitors have long reported disembodied voices, footsteps echoing along empty paths, and shadowy figures slipping between the headstones. Apparitions occasionally appear, watching silently before vanishing into the foggy air. Beyond the cemetery, Marblehead’s harbor carries its own spectral tales: the Lady in White, a figure of love and loss, drifts along the shoreline, while a restless sailor searches endlessly for his lost crew.
Notable burials include Mary Gale, who testified against Wilmot Redd, tying together threads of tragedy, accusation, and history in one haunting landscape. Walking Old Burial Hill, it’s easy to see why this cemetery continues to captivate visitors, a place where history, legend, and lingering spirits meet atop a hill with sweeping views of the sea.
Symbols and Stonework: The Language of Death in Salem
Look closer at the stones themselves and you’ll find an ancient vocabulary. Salem’s historic graveyards hold more than memorials to the departed. They preserve fragments of early American folk art, silent expressions of belief and mortality carved into stone. Many visitors pass them by without truly seeing the winged skulls and cherubs, the weeping willows and urns, each etched into slate by hands long gone, each carrying a message from another time. These carvings stir something in those who linger, a sense of dread, despair, or perhaps fascination.
One headstone that never fails to draw attention is that of Susanna Jayne, located on Old Burial Hill in Marblehead, Massachusetts. Not to be confused with the Burial Hill in Plymouth, this gravestone was carved in 1776 by Henry Christian Geyer for Susanna, the wife of a local schoolmaster. It is one of the finest examples of 18th-century gravestone art in New England.
The stone is made of slate and is hauntingly detailed. Its central image is a skeleton wearing a laurel wreath, representing the Grim Reaper. In its hands, the skeleton holds the sun and moon, and a scythe is positioned behind its head. Surrounding the figure is an ouroboros, a snake eating its own tail, symbolizing eternity. The corners feature cherubs at the top, representing good, and bats at the bottom, representing evil. At the very top of the carving, an hourglass flanked by bones emphasizes the swift passage of time. To protect the fragile slate, the headstone has been encased in concrete, preserving this remarkable piece of funerary art for generations to come.
These carvings are not merely decoration. The winged skull, one of the oldest motifs, speaks of both death and resurrection, a soul’s flight from decay toward eternity. Cherubs softened that grim imagery in later years, offering comfort and hope in place of fear. The urn and weeping willow arrived as styles evolved, reflecting a gentler sorrow, grief made graceful, mourning turned inward.
Together, they form a language of loss and remembrance, written not in words but in symbols. Each stone becomes a dialogue between the living and the dead, between art and eternity. Salem and Marblehead offer countless chances to discover them for yourself, to stand before a stone and see how time has shaped both the carving and the hand that made it.
Visiting Salem’s Graveyards Respectfully
Old Burial Hill, MarbleHead, Ma
Salem welcomes thousands of visitors each year, especially in October. But remember — these are sacred grounds. Respect the stones, avoid touching fragile markers, and never cross fenced areas. Photography is welcome, but flash and climbing are not. The spirits here deserve dignity. Many cemeteries, including Charter Street, now require free same-day reservations. Check Salem’s official city website before visiting. Early morning or twilight hours offer the most atmospheric experience. If you prefer a guided walk, several local tour companies offer night visits that combine storytelling with history. Just remember: the best hauntings are often the ones you feel, not the ones you see.
Salem is more than its witchy reputation — it is a living city with a deep, solemn beauty. Its graveyards hold not just the dead, but the truth of who we were and what we feared. Every headstone is a mirror, reflecting the human struggle to make peace with mortality. So wander slowly. Listen closely. The past is patient, and in Salem, it still speaks.
