Blood and Clay

by Dulcinea Norton-Smith

  “Mrs Southerns, did you kill baby Emma Baldwin?” Asked Roger.

  “Dust tha think I’m a babby what can’t take pain Roger Nowell? Tha’ll haft to try harder ‘n that.”

  Roger nodded at Ainsworth. He turned the screws three times, tightening the clamps and causing the spikes to cut into Demdike’s thumbs. She laughed.

  “Mrs Southerns, have you caused the death and sickness of more than ten people in the County? I have had these complaints put against you the last few years from ten families. Is it true?”

  Demdike kept smiling and chuckling. No answer came. Roger nodded to Ainsworth once more. This time there was a crack as the old, brittle bones in Demdike’s thumbs crunched. She howled in pain.

  “Mrs Southerns have you caused illness and death by witchcraft?”

  Demdike’s chuckles were all gone now but her voice had grown stronger and louder, filled with rage and spite.

  “Does tha think I’m gormless? You won’t be getting no ‘fession from me lad. I am stronger than you give me credit for. My thumbs are nowt but flattened now. What next? Hast tha got owt else to chuck at a poor old woman?”

  Ainsworth looked at Roger with a grin. Again Roger was disturbed at the pleasure the Warden took from this but pushed his feelings aside and gave a new instruction. “Knotting next Warden.”

  Ainsworth picked up a thin stick. He moved behind Demdike and gathered her hair into a high ponytail, tying it with a piece of rope. He took the stick and pushed it between Demdike’s scalp and the tied clump of hair until a few inches stuck out at either side of her head. He grabbed a piece in each hand and began to twist, as if opening a drawbridge. Demdike’s hair pulled tighter and tighter, pulling some of the wrinkles from her skin and making her grimace.

  “Did you cause death by witchcraft?”

  “I’ll sithee in Hell before I answer that. I’m reet old now and non too clever. May as well kill me before my ‘art or lungs do tha daft fool. I’m not scared o’ thee.”

  Demdike screamed in agony as Ainsworth gave the stick a final turn, tearing hair and clumps of skin and flesh from her scalp. He growled in frustration and yanked the stick out, leaving strands of grey, blood streaked hair trailing over Demdike’s bony shoulders.

  “She won’t talk Sir."

  “Just one last try Ainsworth. The boots I think.”

  As he said it Roger felt the cold of evil crawling over his heart. He tried to shake it but he couldn’t. If the boots worked then Demdike would be hanged. If it didn’t then she would be crippled for the rest of her short miserable life in the gaol until she died from blood loss or worse. Whichever the result he was giving her a death sentence. Ainsworth chuckled to himself and brought two planks of wood and a cord. He put a plank at either side of Demdike’s frail legs and bound them together with the cord. He went back to the table and returned with a hammer and several wedges of wood. He stuck the thin wedges into various points of up and down Demdike’s legs between her legs and the planks. He slowly began to hammer each one as Roger continued to talk. Each time the wedge pushed towards its thickest end the planks tightened making Demdike’s legs squeeze together and shatter the bones. Demdike writhed in agony.

  “Did you cause death by witchcraft?”

  “Aye I did.” Screamed Demdike as splinters of bone began to poke out of her skin.

  “Did your daughter Elizabeth Device cause death by witchcraft?”

  “Aye....aye, she did.” Demdike’s legs were all but liquid now, the planks almost meeting with little more than mangled flesh keeping them apart. Ainsworth stopped hammering, the wedges now having nowhere left to go.

  “Did your granddaughter Alizon Device cause death by witchcraft?”

  Demdike flopped in her chair. There was no more laughter or fight, no more torture to be done.

  “Nay. She hasn’t ever done nowt. She’s nowt but a lanky streak o’ piss that un. Believes in God she does. Ha!”

  “Thank you Mrs Southerns. Ainsworth, please see Mrs Southerns to her kin.”

  Roger let himself out of the witch room and started the long climb up towards his office. He had been right; she did have a chance for her soul to be saved. He would spare young Alizon and find her a place in the work house. Some good could come from this after all.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Roger walked along the corridor to his office. A headache was threatening to settle and he had a big build-up of pressure behind his eyes. He barely glanced at the paintings of hangings and criminals on the walls. He had walked past them a thousand times and they no longer registered but he did not feel as blasé about the sentences to death that he would be handing out to the witches. It was rare for him to sentence a woman to death. Their crimes were usually only bad enough to earn them a spell in the stocks or in gaol. It was rare for women to be tried for murder. It was just a small consolation that the young one Alizon could be spared. He walked into his office and had to squint at the golden light coming through the windows. He had been in the gaol for over twenty four hours now without sleep. He looked forward to the end of this day and a return to his bed at Read Hall. It took only a second for Roger’s eyes to adjust to the light and realise that he was not alone. A woman sat with her back to Roger. Though her clothes were un-glamorous her back was rigid and her posture unflawed. Auburn hair was pulled into a plait and the woman turned as she heard Roger. A face which was a softer rounder version of his own stared at him.

  “Alice, a pleasant surprise but perhaps not a good day for it. What brings you these many miles to Lancaster so early in the day?”

  “Good morning my brother. You look tired.”

  “It has been a long night, and a long day to follow.”

  “Perhaps, my darling, it was time you took a new wife, someone to care for you.”

  “Nay sweet Alice. I have lost my one true love, there won’t be another. I have all the staff I need to take care of me. So what brings you here?” Roger walked around his desk and leant backwards in his chair. With the window now at his back he could see his sister better and with the light no longer in his eyes his headache eased a little.

  “I hear you have the Device family in gaol.”

  “Aye.”

  “And Alizon? The young one?”

  “Aye her too.”

  Roger began to feel uneasy. He had seen Gabriel’s reaction on the day the Device girl had been taken away and he had more than a little suspicion that there was more than friendship between the two. He was devoted to his sister but he wasn’t sure he could release the girl without punishment purely to please his nephew.

  “You may have guessed that our Gabriel is enamoured with her. He begged me to come and see you, to beg for her release.”

  “Alice I’m not sure I can do that. She lamed a man, to that at least she has admitted. She will have a spell in gaol but she will be released soon enough. Is that not enough for him? Surely, if he loves her so, he would be happy to wait.”

  “Aye I don’t doubt it. He cried at my knee last night. T’is the first time he has cried since he was a babe. He would wait until the sun turned to ice for that girl.”

  “Then I am confused sister. What would you have me do?”

  “My dear brother, have I ever asked a favour of you?”

  Roger thought through their lives together. Their parents had died early and Alice, though younger than him, had quickly taken over the care of the house, leaving him the time to build his career. She had never asked a favour of him, not one.

  “No Alice, you haven’t.”

  “Well it shames me to ask you now dear brother but a favour I must ask.” Alice looked down at her hands which rested on her knew. Alice had never failed to meet Roger’s eye before and this one gesture convinced him that she was, indeed, ashamed to be asking. Whether it was the request of a favour or the actual favour itself which shamed her he couldn’t tell. He nodded for her to continue.

  “Gabriel has worked hard at school and since beginning the job a
t the Nutter Farm. He has worked hard to make something of himself. He and Jane Nutter are good friends and I had once hoped that they would become something more. John Nutter is aging now and with all of his sons under the age of eight years he will soon need someone to pass the care of the farm on to. A marriage to Jane would secure that honour for Gabe.”

  “So you want me to ensure that Alizon Device is given a lengthy sentence in gaol? Secure the route of love for Gabriel and Jane.”

  “No my Roger. I am afraid I am asking for a lot more than that. As I have already said, Gabriel would wait for that girl, perhaps for a great many years. He will never open his heart to loving someone else if she were still....her.”

  “At Lancaster?”

  “On God’s great earth.”

  “Oh.” Roger began to get a glimmer of understanding.

  “That girl is a wretch. She has been dragged up by that God forsaken kin of hers. If she is a danger to grown men like John Law she is a danger to us all. I will not have her dragging my Gabriel into her Hell.”

  “Surely you understand what you are asking me Alice. She hasn’t killed anyone, by witchcraft or any other. My power to take a life is only so for murderers.”

  “She is a murderer. She may have murdered already, murders we do not know of, but even if not she will do. Apples don’t fall far from the tree my brother and her tree is poisonous and rotten from the roots up. Our Gabriel only has a future if there is no way she can be in it.”

  “She has not confessed to a murder. There are no witnesses to speak against her and her grandmother herself, evil wretch though she is, will testify that she has never committed murder. I love you Alice but I don’t know what I can do for you. I am truly sorry.”

  Alice looked drained but stood and walked around the desk to kiss Roger on the head.

  “I can only hope that God brings you an opportunity to help my dear.” As Alice walked out of the room Roger felt helpless in his inability to help her.

  He stood to stretch then set off down the corridor again. He had one more person to talk to today. Someone who was waiting in the castle kitchens and may be able to help him help his sister.

  Chapter Twenty Four

  “So will he help Mam?” Gabe looked at his mother. Though she had just arrived home he had been waiting nervously for hours for her return.

  He had wanted to go to Lancaster with her but she had told him that his Uncle would better receive just her. He had not wanted to let John Nutter down either; he had been in failing health of late and had come to rely heavily on Gabe.

  “Aye my sweet baby he will.”

  “Then I’ll go. I will set off to Lancaster tonight to be there when she is released.” Gabe was already on his feet. He did not want to waste any more time without Lizzie. He had loved her for years and it had only been so recent and so new to actually tell her that it seemed almost like a dream. He didn’t intend to waste any more time being without her. He would go to Lancaster and the second she was released he would marry her.

  “No Gabe. Stay here. It will not be that quick. She will be in gaol a little while yet, maybe a week or so. Stay here and begin to plan your life. She will come to you as soon as she can.”

  “Aye ok Mam. If that is what you think. I do have much to do, a house to find, a love token too perhaps. Aye I will wait and journey to Lancaster Saturday week.”

  Alice turned her back to her son. His face was radiant as he thought of the girl. He was the most important thing in Alice’s life and what she had done she had done for his good, to secure him a good future. The pain she felt at the pain he would feel was almost crippling but she hid it. It would be a temporary pain for both of them. Hopefully Jane would be able to ease that pain.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  I crouched in the corner of the room and pressed my body to the cold stone. It gave me a sense of security to feel the solidity at my back. A very small sense of security. The noise of shouting and screaming came from outside of the room and bounced around my cell. The prisoners outside were hammering at the gaol doors, trying to get out before whoever was trying to get in reached us.

  I prayed; my hands clasped so tightly I felt I might crush my bones. I seemed to spend my life praying now. I prayed for forgiveness, for clarity, for mercy, for my soul. I prayed now for safety. I had no idea if God was even listening anymore. I was even resigned to my fate but something kept me believing. My head tried to pull me to reality. I was going to die. My heart still clung to a belief in God and a hope that I had repented enough for him to help me.

  The cell door flew open. I screamed then clamped my hand to my mouth to muffle the sound which had surprised me almost as much as the door had. The prisoners were still shouting outside my cell but now I could hear the voices of men, shouting to get order.

  The Warden stood at the door. Two more men joined him, each one with a face full of cuts and bruises. The Warden and his men wore matching smirks which terrified me more that the screams. I tried to push myself further into the corner and held my skirt tight around my scrunched up legs. The Warden laughed.

  “Ah, it isn’t my company you’ll be having tonight whelp. I thought you might be missing your coven. Don’t say I never give you anything.”

  The Warden stood back and his men threw two bundles into the room then slammed the door. One of the bundles leapt to life, shrieking and calling then scratching at the door. The bundle, which was now clearly a person, span around and looked quickly around the room, half crouched like a trapped animal.

  “Mam!”

  She ignored me and sat on the floor, rocking and cursing, stopping every now and then to spit at the door. I wanted to know how she came to be here but I knew better than to try and speak to her when she was like this. I turned my attention to the heap of rags which had landed at my feet and realised that it was Gran. She wasn’t moving and her breath was wheezing and rattling through her spittle covered lips. She coughed and blood flew from her mouth to spatter on the dirt floor and on her cheek. Her legs were little more than mush.

  “Gran?” I whispered. I reached out to touch her. As my fingers got closer I stopped. I can’t remember ever having touched her. Not once in my whole life. It didn’t seem right, or safe, to touch her. Not even with her eyes closed. Even as the bag of bones that lay in front of me she scared me.

  Then I felt a push inside of me. As if the best part of my heart, the part which still believed in God, told me to make the final move and help her. I couldn’t watch as someone suffered, even her. I had left John Law because of fear and self preservation but now I had a chance to make amends. I finally moved again and this time I touched her arm. I was surprised at how thin it was; all baggy skin and bone. It shocked me and I let my hand lie there for longer than I meant to. Gran suddenly moved and groaned and her eyes fluttered open.

  “Lizzie” she croaked. “So we are caught. Our rescue plans came to naught. I always knew you’d be the death of our family. You and your pious ways. Why couldn’t you have accepted the Devil child?”

  “Gran, I’m sorry.”

  “Aye well sorry won’t save us will it lass? You stupid little cow; you being sorry is what got us in here. Could have been great, the power of three. It was there for our taking and you threw it away for your damned guilt.”

  Though Gran seemed to be struggling to speak, every word still dripped with hate and malice.

  “I’m sorry” I whispered.

  Perhaps I shouldn’t have gone to apologise to him. Looking back it was selfish to have done something to ease my own guilt when it meant putting my family at risk. I had been kidding myself that I went to apologise because it was the right thing to do but that wasn’t true. I’d gone to ease my own guilt and to buy favour from God. It was to ease my own suffering not anyone else’s.

  “Sorry isn’t no good to me. I’m broken Lizard, I can feel it. My bones aren’t where they should be inside. Got a good going over in the fight I did. Then another when they questioned me.
Aye my bones are all undone they are but they won’t get away with it. I lay a curse on each and every one of ‘em.”

  As if to prove her injuries Gran coughed again and another spray of blood shot from her mouth. This time hitting me in the face.

  “Shoulda beat your head on a wall the day you were born Lizard. You’ve been bad luck since you came slithering into the world. Gave your Mam a fever. Almost died she did. She's never been right since then.”