Authors: Dulcinea Norton-Smith
“
You're no more powerful Chattox and sure as the Devil rides
at night we would be more powerful than you. Aye I can see you have something
to worry about there but what if we joined? With your kin and mine we
’
d be close to a coven. Just a few
more and we would have all the power we needed. More power than the power of
three a coven has.
”
“
Shut your chattering Demdike. Give a woman time to think.
”
Chattox
’
s eyes had begun to shine with the
possibilities a coven would bring. Every one of the two families knew that they
could do great things if they united. Chunnering and muttering went through the
families sat by the fire as Demdike and Chattox leant back, away from each
other, to lean against logs set at their back. Each chewed on a small wooden
pipe with their gummy mouths. Jennet stood up. Everyone seemed to have
forgotten she was there. She moved around the back of the group until she
reached her mother and Anne Chattox. The two women were surrounded by a small
gaggle of women around the same age. Each one was chanting a different curse
and swaying hypnotically. In the centre of the group Elizabeth and Anne were
still at work, their hands stained muddy red and small, male figures forming
from the clay in their hands. Next to them stood a row of little effigies; each
one different. There were women, men and children, all like little dolls.
Jennet concentrated on the words that each person was chanting. As always she
was left to learn the craft that she coveted by stealth; no-one seeing her as
old or worthy enough to be taught it yet. Soon the effigies were made and the
chanting stopped. The women sat down in a circle and held hands before
beginning to hum a low tune. Jennet was about to sit but noticed that the talks
had resumed by the fireside. She made her way back to the fire, settling a bit
closer to the group, braver now and more confident that she was being ignored.
Chattox had begun to speak again.
“
Aye. Fancy we will help you. What are you planning?
”
“
The effigies will help. Cause some pain and suffering they
will, p
’
raps delay the trial, but it won
’
t be enough. We need to break Lizzie
out.
”
“
Aye and how do you plan to do that?
”
“
I got my ways. I come across a man on my travels not far
yonder. He lives over Ilkley Way. The whisperings say he got a goodly amount of
gunpowder for those folk who tried to blow up Parliament. Happen I can get some
of that powder and we blow a big hole in the wall of Lancaster Gaol.
”
“
An
’
then what?
”
“
We got effigies and the men of our kin. I fancy that with
me and you working together we can make some powerful curses. When we get in we
set fire to everything and anything. With all of that we will get Lizzie out no
problems.
”
“
They
’
ll come hunting for us. They
’
ll know who did it.
”
“
Aye but by then the power of three will be restored and our
coven built. Won
’
t be no-one who can harm us then.
”
Jennet
watched Chattox as she thought for a while before spitting in her hand and
holding it out to Demdike. Demdike did the same.
“
In one week
’
s time
”
said Demdike.
“
Aye a week.
”
Said Chattox.
Jennet
’
s heart sank. With Lizzie back there
would be no way for her to fight her way out of the background. No familiar, no
powers and no chance of getting in the coven until she was older. The anger and
spite that had been slowly building inside her burnt hot and red and she
thought she would explode with jealousy. Jennet set off at a run, kicking the
bucket of sheep blood over as she passed it. She heard angry cries ringing out
behind her but she kept running. Off to the clearing to make plans of her own.
I
looked around the cell. It had been less than a week but it already felt like I
hadn
’
t seen the sky for a year. I missed Gabe so much that my
stomach hurt. The cell was small and there was just a bucket in one corner to
be used as a toilet and a pile of straw in another to use as a bed. Though I
didn
’
t want to sleep on the damp, mouldy straw I usually passed
out at some time in the night and woke up to find myself itchy and covered in
ticks which I then had to spend a time picking off my skin. I wondered if Gabe
would still claim to be in love with me now, as he had on the walk to the
peddler
’
s house. I
’
d said it back and meant it with my whole heart but I still
couldn
’
t quite believe Gabe could feel the same as I did,
especially if he saw me now.
My
hair had been shaved off the day I had arrived at the gaol. Not everyone had
shaved heads. Some of the prisoners were treated better than other; those with
money to buy better treatment. I had no money and not much else to offer in
exchange for a bit of comfort. That didn
’
t stop the Warden visiting my cell
every night though. I coped. I went into my own mind and pictured my clearing
in the forest. I went over and over that day with Gabe at the clearing. When
the Warden had left I would pray to God for forgiveness for what I
’
d done and what he
’
d done. I accepted my circumstances
and treatment with an empty heart and without a fight. Perhaps this was my
punishment. Perhaps it was all I deserved. No matter how close I tried to be to
God I would always be a child of the Device family; a child of the Devil.
I
didn
’
t spend much time with the other prisoners. Those that
weren
’
t gibbering and infected with madness kept away from me. I
was the only witch in the gaol, I did think of myself as a witch now, and there
hadn
’
t been another for some time. I saw nervous looks being
shot at me wherever I went so I stayed in my cell most of the time and prayed
or thought of Gabe. I was lying in the centre of the cell and trying to conjure
up a memory of my clearing in the summer months when the cell door flew open
and crashed into the wall. I sat up to take my bowl of watered broth; the same
lumpy, grey food that the prisoners had for every meal. The same broth that
gave my stomach cramps and made me vomit, or worse, about an hour after eating
it, making the cell stink of my own rotting body waste.
I
turned to take my bowl but was surprised to see the Warden standing in the
doorway and not the cook. I shot a nervous look past him into the big room
where the prisoners walked and spent most of their day and was relieved to see
a lot of people there. Perhaps the Warden wasn
’
t so brave when it was light and
there were others watching. The Warden gave me a big grin and shook a chain
hanging at his side. The chain was attached to shackles which matched those
already around my ankles.
“
The Magistrate wants to see you girl. Waiting in the Judge
’
s chambers he is. Mind you don
’
t say anything about our little
friendship. He wouldn
’
t believe you anyhow but still. Wouldn
’
t want to fall out would we? Us bein
’
so close an all.
”
I
looked down. I felt ashamed and humiliated at the way that the Warden treated
me but God did nothing to stop it. He didn
’
t even give my strength to survive
it. What reason would I have to tell the man who sent my here in the first
place?
“
I
’
ll keep your secret Warden
”
I said, looking at him but unable to
meet his eye
“
but your secret is known by God. There
’
s no hiding from Him.
”
“
A witch who speaks of God. Why the bare faced cheek of it!
God doesn
’
t come here you little Devil bitch. This place is empty of
God.
”
The
Warden broke into a fit of laughter which made his stomach ripple and his
shoulders shake. He laughed until his face was red then spoke to me as he wiped
a tear from his eye.
“
Ha! That was a good joke girl. I haven
’
t laughed like that for ages. No more
joking though lass. Let
’
s get off. The Magistrate is too important to spend an age
waiting for the likes of you.
”
The
Warden crossed the room to me and roughly shoved my wrists into the shackles.
He then ran the loose chain which hung between my wrists to the one between my
ankles and fastened then together before using the leftover slack to pull me
out of the room. As I was dragged through the room most of the prisoners
ignored me. The odd few who did look either jeered or spat at my feet. In a
prison full of murderers and thieves I was still the enemy. The Warden dragged
me up three flights of stairs, barely slowing whenever I stumbled and grazed my
already raw knees on the stone stairs. Just as I thought that I couldn
’
t walk any further we arrived at the
main floor.
“
Don
’
t touch anything.
”
Warden Ainsworth snapped at me, as
if I could even move away from him with the shackles and chains holding me
fast.
Ainsworth
acted differently above the prison floors. He walked with a straighter back and
less of an arrogant swagger, as if on his best behaviour. It made I wonder if I
should tell the Magistrate about his treatment of me. He seemed less confident
here. Perhaps he was less well thought of than he made out. As Ainsworth
’
s walk slowed a little I got a chance
to look around me. The carpet I was now walking on was a rich tapestry of
greens, blues and reds. I felt bad that my dirt covered, bare feet would make
marks that someone would have to clean up. My shoes had been stolen by one of
the other prisoners the day I arrived.
Other
than the rug the corridor was quite bare but at regular intervals along the
hall were paintings. Some of judges, some of courtrooms and some of criminals
being tortured or swinging from the hangman
’
s noose. These were the ones which
held my attention and I could not draw my eyes away from them. My heart sped
and I silently prayed that this would not be my end.We finally reached the end
of the corridor and the Warden gave my chains a vicious and unnecessary tug to
signal that I should stop. He knocked on the polished oak door in front of us.
“
Enter
”
called a voice which I recognized as that of Roger Nowell.
The
Warden opened the heavy door and we went in; him walking and me shuffling in
the shackles. The room was decorated in the same style as the corridor. A heavy
tapestry rug covered most of the wooden floor and a desk in a similar wood to
the door, sat in front of a large window. The light coming from the window was
the first real glimpse of light I had seen since for a long time. Since
entering the gaol the most light I had seen was the thin shafts which came
through the tall thin gap windows in the cells. This great expanse of white
light made me blink for a while as I tried to stop my eyes from stinging and
watering. Once my eyes settles I could see Roger Nowell properly. He looked at
me silently for a moment and I considered telling Roger how the Warden had been
treating me but I never got a chance. Just as soon as I gathered my senses
enough to talk Mr Nowell addressed me.
“
Miss Device. You have now been in Lancaster Assizes for six
days. It is time that we arranged your trial. My nephew has begged me for your
freedom but he is young and I dare say he does not fully understand the
situation. Naivety and love do not a defence make.
”
He
stared at me for a moment and I was at a loss about what I was meant to say. My
heart had lurched at the mention of Gabe. I had almost begun to convince myself
that those few days of happiness had been nought but a dream. Mr Nowell kept
staring and so I nodded. He nodded back then continued to speak.