by Kari Edgren
At the time, I had found little comfort in Brigid’s counsel. Only now, on the verge of being publicly denounced, did her meaning become clear. By following my first instinct to run away, I would have certainly saved my body from physical harm, but not without great injury to my soul. Nathan could rant and rave for all he was worth—I would endure just like my father and countless other ancestors. These thoughts were like a revelation, a gift at this most difficult hour. My body stopped shaking as the fear faded away, replaced with a simmering anger. Sitting up a little straighter, I lifted my chin, ready to begin.
Near the appointed hour, Nathan opened his eyes and stared out at the large crowd. No emotion crossed his face at the sheer number of people packed into the meetinghouse. He slowly circled the room with his gaze, starting with the men and moving around to the women. Occasionally he stopped to stare at someone, just long enough to make the person squirm before moving on. He tried this same trick on me, but I met his stare without the slightest hesitation. When I refused to tremble or look away, he gave up and moved on to another woman seated further down the row.
Like an ominous fog, his presence settled over the crowd. He stood and I saw that Anne was right, he did look much altered, even from a week before. He had lost another half a stone at least and dark shadows stood out beneath his eyes. But any sign of weakness faded the moment he started to speak.
“Deny not the spirit of truth!” his voice thundered out over the hall. Several members flinched back, caught unaware. “Deny not the voice of warning! By the power of God, I have seen the witch! By His will, I have seen the Devil’s mark on her body!”
Oh, please! I thought angrily. A pox on your lying tongue!
Everyone stared at Nathan so intently I could have thrown one of my shoes at him without being noticed. Sorely tempted, I began to pluck at my gown when Anne reached over and took my other hand, pressing it gently in her own.
Nathan’s eyes sparked, and his body quivered with excitement. “My friends, the spirit calls me to testify, to expose a viper nesting amongst us.” No longer roaring like a man possessed, he now spoke in a clear, measured voice with only the slightest hint of a tremor. “In vision, I was brought to a dark road where I found a young woman kneeling at the base of an oak tree. Though she kept her face hidden from view, I sensed something familiar and tried to call out. But the spirit sealed my voice, forced me to watch in silence as the woman delved a hand into the earth and drew forth a long black serpent. It slithered up the length of her arm, encircling her white flesh like an exotic bangle.” He thrust his own arm into the air for all to see the imaginary snake. A look of disgust washed over his face, and fisting his hand, he let it fall back to his side.
“Thus adorned,” he said scornfully, “the woman rose and started to walk along the road. The spirit bid me follow and we soon came upon a man who suffered from a great thirst and begged a drink of water. A wooden cup appeared in the woman’s hand, and the man drank deeply, grateful for her kindness. As the last drop passed his lips, he began to choke and claw at his throat.” Nathan grimaced at the memory and slowly shook his head. “The spirit stayed my hand, and the man fell to the ground, drowned by a single cup of water.”
I stole a furtive glance around the room, distraught by how enraptured the people were—each man, woman and child old enough to understand, hung on his every word.
“The woman continued on until she came to an ox that looked strong and well fed. It lowed softly when she held out a handful of hay, readily accepting the gift. But no sooner had it passed the beast’s gullet than the creature began to waste away. Before my eyes, the ox collapsed at the woman’s feet, reduced to a carcass of skin and bones.”
Nathan paused dramatically. Not a soul moved, and silence pervaded beneath the sound of his labored breath. Red splotches marred his cheeks, hinting to the effort of this performance. Though everyone else seemed entranced by his lies, I fumed with silent hatred.
“After witnessing two such horrors,” Nathan said after a moment, “dread filled me when she came next to a woman heavy with child. Fearing the worst, I tried to turn away, but the spirit held fast, forced me to watch as the young woman placed a hand on the mother’s swollen belly. Crying out, the mother stumbled back, her womb now empty, and the baby lying still in the young woman’s embrace.”
A spattering of anguished protests went through the meetinghouse. It isn’t real! I wanted to scream. He’s just making it up! Needing reassurance that not everyone had fallen for these lies, I glanced up at Henry. His face was blank, but his eyes burned with such fury I half expected Nathan to disintegrate on the spot.
“Three victims had already fallen under her touch,” Nathan said, his voice cracking with grief. “Yet I could do nothing other than witness her heinous crimes. Once again the woman went on until she came to a large rectangular stone, black and smooth as polished onyx. Only when she placed the baby on the stone and knelt before it, did I see it for an altar. Chanting evil words, she plucked a knife from the night air and plunged it into the innocent heart.”
Several women cried out for the imaginary infant. To my amazement, tears glistened on Nathan’s cheeks. Was he such an accomplished actor or did he really believe his own lies? Anne squeezed my hand as Nathan brushed the wetness from his face.
“A fire sprang up from the baby’s lifeless form, and the woman stepped onto the altar into the engulfing flames. No mere human could ever survive such an ordeal, and I began to think her dead, consumed by her own evil deeds. But when the flames receded, she stepped unharmed from the stone, even then keeping her face concealed from me.
“The fire had burned her clothes away and she stood entirely naked, except for the serpent still entwined around her arm. It hissed softly, and she bent down as though by command to let it slither into the grass. The long body began to convulse and the stench of sulfur filled my nose from the Devil that rose up in its place. With a fiery finger, the Devil scorched the woman’s flesh right below her left breast, marking her as his own.”
Nathan’s arms went rigid. In stunned silence, I watched his head rock back and his face contort with pain. “All of this time,” he spat savagely, “I had been prohibited from speaking, or making my presence known. But at last the spirit freed my tongue, and I cried, ‘Get thee hence, Satan!’ The demon howled and vanished in a dark vapor. Having lost her protector, the woman turned, and for the first time, revealed her identity.”
Thomas Dowling nearly tumbled from the bench on the men’s side. The crowd around the perimeter edged forward, drawn closer by the gruesome details of Nathan’s vision. The room had grown so still I could hear my own heart beating.
“Who is it?” a man called from the doorway. “Tell us her name!” A soft murmur rose up as other people began to speak.
The madness cleared from Nathan’s face and he raised a hand to quiet the crowd. “My friends, though this woman sits among us tonight, I have been commanded first to give you warning. For days after the vision, I was deprived of both sleep and appetite as I pondered the meaning of what I had seen. Then late one night while walking through my sodden wheat fields, the vision became clear to me. This summer, many of our crops have suffered from heavy rain. A quarter of my land lies under water. To the detriment of her neighbors, this witch has commanded the weather for her own gain. By destroying our crops she will reap the benefit of higher prices at the harvest.”
I seethed from the charge. Irrespective of the power that seeped through the altar, Brighmor’s wheat was still subject to nature, and it didn’t take a weather expert to see that the same rain had fallen on every farm. My fields just happened to be on higher ground and drained better than the lower lying farms, which Nathan owned. It wasn’t my fault that he had purchased cheaper land.
“What of the ox then?” someone called out.
“Once the witch has prospered from our ruin, the Devil will dem
and payment. Our livestock will be sacrificed to appease his lust for blood.”
“And the child?” Rachel Dowling asked from my far left.
Nathan let his head drop, apparently pulled down by the weight of his overwhelming grief. When he looked up again, he stared straight at Matthew Appleton with an expression of pure agony. “The infant is the ultimate sacrifice,” he said. “Our children’s blood in exchange for powers great enough to strike down any man!”
Matthew’s face turned a ghastly shade of white. I wanted to go to him, to offer my assurance that Nathan was lying. But even after everything that had been said, it wasn’t yet my time.
Quakers throughout the room had put their silence aside, and the meetinghouse began to hum with their voices. More than a few people demanded that Nathan reveal the witch.
“You’ve given your warnings,” John Lewis called out above the other voices. “Now give us her name!”
Nathan stared at me with unabashed hatred. “The spirit commands me to reveal the witch!” he thundered, pointing a finger in my direction. “It was Selah Kilbrid that I saw in vision, selling her soul to the Devil.”
A hushed silence fell over the meetinghouse as every eye turned in my direction. I sat ramrod straight under their gaze, my chin slightly raised. Nora and Anne kept a firm hold on each of my hands. Henry was poised to spring at the first hint of danger.
“You’re mistaken, Nathan,” Anne said calmly. “Selah is not a witch.”
“The spirit is not wrong!” Nathan cried. His nostrils flared and his eyes blazed like a maniac. “Selah Kilbrid is the Devil’s whore!”
Confusion and shouting took over the meetinghouse. Several women hurried to get a safe distance away from me.
“Mark Flanders lost a heifer two days ago,” a man shouted from the crowd.
“It died of acorn poisoning,” William yelled back angrily.
“Maybe it was Selah and she just made it look like the cow had eaten too many acorns,” another shouted.
“Maybe you need to shut your mouth before I come over and shut it for you!” William shouted, standing to face the man.
“Let the witch speak for herself!” the man yelled back.
During this exchange, Henry came over and pulled me protectively to his side. Nora and Anne also stood, keeping close. Allison started to walk toward me, only to be stopped by her mother, who looked uncertain. When William joined us, Henry leaned over to whisper something in his ear. William nodded and then hurried toward the back door.
I stood stone still, my heart pounding painfully as my name spread through the crowd outside, bringing more people into the meetinghouse to see me. The space in the middle quickly disappeared, taken up by those being pushed forward to make room.
“Order!” Gideon bellowed, standing on a bench. “We will have order in God’s House!”
One by one, people fell silent, waiting for what the Elder would do next.
“Selah, please step forward,” Gideon instructed.
I did as he bid me, brushing past Nathan on my way. Henry stayed at my arm, a threat to anyone who dared harm me.
“Selah, are you willing to answer some questions?” Gideon asked. He was all seriousness, but from the concern in his eyes, I knew he meant to help.
I nodded and turned to face the crowd. Looking out at the mass of people, I was amazed by my complete lack of fear.
“Are you a witch?” he asked.
“No, I am not.” My voice was strong, without the slightest quiver.
“Did you sell your soul to the Devil?”
“No, I did not.”
“Do you bear a mark below you left breast?”
Gideon never would have asked this question if he had known the answer. I looked back at him imploringly, practically begging him with my eyes to ask something else—anything else.
Misinterpreting my silent pleas, Gideon simply asked the same question, just louder this time. “Do you bear a mark below your left breast?”
The crowd was growing restless from my prolonged silence. “Yes, I do,” I started hesitantly. I then tried to explain how it got there, but the shouts from the crowd drowned out my next words. Gideon’s next question also went unheard in the uproar.
“She’s a witch!”
“Put her in the dunking chair!”
“Lock her in the stocks!”
As men and women cried out all around me, Henry, Anne and Nora stayed at my side, unflinching at this latest revelation. Of course, Nora already knew I had this mark, as did the rest of the Goodwins, since it had happened at their home.
“Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live, saith the Lord!” Nathan thundered. “She is an abomination before me and must be destroyed!”
“Hang her!” several people cried at once.
A man tried to grab me, but Henry took him by the coat and threw him to the floor. Pushing me behind him, he pulled out the pistol and aimed it at the crowd. In his other hand was a dagger that I had somehow missed earlier.
Gideon continued to call for order, though nobody paid any attention. Slowly, Henry moved toward the back door, his pistol and dagger keeping the crowd at bay. It looked like we would be riding to Philadelphia tonight.
A pistol discharged right outside the meetinghouse. “Make way,” a man bellowed. The crowd pushed to the sides, allowing just enough room for Constable George McKee to come in. Ben and William followed, each fully armed with a sword in one hand and a pistol in the other.
“Nathan Crowley!” George called over the cowering crowd. “You’ve done your work tonight. Now move aside and let me do mine.”
Chapter Fifteen
A Testament of Truth
The crowd pushed back together, closing the pathway behind William and Ben. Seeing the men, Henry stopped our progress toward the back door, but kept the dagger and pistol at the ready.
“This meeting is over,” George McKee yelled, coming into the middle of the room. “Return to your homes.”
Unsure whether to obey the constable or demand immediate retribution for my alleged crimes, the people stayed where they were.
“What of Selah?” Mark Reed asked. “Will you allow her to go free?”
“That’s not your concern,” George said. “If any laws have been broken, I assure you, justice will be served.”
“But she’s the witch,” Mark said. “She even admitted so herself.”
“I did no such thing, Mark Reed!” I cried.
“Here’s the situation,” George said, taking out a pocket watch with his free hand. “This room is to be cleared in five minutes. Anyone still here other than Selah Kilbrid and Nathan Crowley will be arrested. Take heed, you’ll find more comfort at your own hearths than in jail tonight.”
Nathan stepped forward to face the constable. “This is an outrage! By what authority are you breaking up our meeting?”
“By the governor of Pennsylvania and the King of England,” George retorted. “As their agent I’m obliged to uphold the law, and hanging without a trial is strictly forbidden.”
“The witch can be judged here tonight!”
“Nathan, considering all the trouble you’ve already stirred up, you have ten seconds to take a seat, or be the first to receive a warrant. Think carefully, man,” George said, narrowing his eyes. “My patience has already been sufficiently tried by this public spectacle. One more word and I’ll drag you to jail myself.”
The two men stared at each other, the tension pounding between them. George began to slowly tap out the seconds with his foot to let Nathan know he was serious. At ten, Nathan glared violently, and without saying anything more, turned abruptly to take a seat on one of the raised benches.
“Now the rest of you go home,” George said impatiently. “I’ve an inquiry to conduct.”
&n
bsp; Having no wish to be arrested, the crowd began to disperse. When the five minutes had passed, only a handful of people remained.
“With all due respect, I must insist that everyone leave,” George said, looking at my small group of supporters. “You’re welcome to wait on the front porch until I’m done questioning Selah and Nathan.”
“I’ll not leave without my wife,” Henry said. His voice was calm although he still held onto the dagger and pistol, not yet ready to put them away.
George looked at him warily. “You can stay, but put those weapons away. This is a house of God.” With the threat of the crowd gone, George tucked his own pistol into his breeches. William and Ben quickly followed suit, tucking their pistols away and stashing the swords beneath the nearest bench.
“Gideon, I’ll be needing a scribe, if you’re willing,” George said once the party was sufficiently disarmed. “Everyone else can wait on the porch.”
No one moved. For a minute it appeared that Anne, Nora, William, Ben and Edgar would have to be arrested before leaving me.
“Oh, very well,” George said. “The rest of you can serve as witnesses. But be warned, I’m in no mood for trouble.” He glanced around the room, his eyes stopping at a small table and chair used for recording minutes during the weekly meetings of business. “Make yourself of use, William, and bring that table and chair over here. Gideon, we’ll need parchment and ink if you have some handy. I want both Selah’s and Nathan’s testimony recorded verbatim.”
Once everything was assembled, George directed me to take a seat on one side of the room with the witnesses on the other. Gideon sat at the table, the quill in his hand, ready to write. Nathan returned to the same place where he’d been during the start of meeting, his eyes closed and his head slightly bowed.
Folding his hands behind his back, George began to slowly pace. After a minute, he stopped directly in front of me. “Selah Kilbrid, you’ve been charged with witchcraft. How do you plead?”
I looked him straight in the eye, unflinching. “Innocent of all charges.”
