‘Does she bring another with her?’ Obadiah Wilson’s voice whispered, insistent, down from the pulpit.
‘She brings the Devil with her! She bids me write in his book!’ Hannah answered. Suddenly she yelped, as if pinched or stung. Her face contorted and her hands raked her body, scratching, pulling at her clothes. ‘She afflicts me! She sends herself against me! Don’t, Mary! Don’t, Mary!’
‘Don’t, Mary! Don’t, Mary!’ They all began to shake and judder, like puppets strung together. ‘She shadows me! I freeze! I freeze!’
The Reverend Cornwell stepped forward, touching one girl after another.
‘They are cold!’ His tone was one of wonder. ‘’Tis true! ’Tis true!’
‘Now she is a bird!’ Hannah waved her hands towards the rafters. ‘See how she flies! She flies!’
The girls stared up as one, necks straining, heads weaving back and forth as though following a fluttering movement only they could see.
Obadiah Wilson needed no more.
‘Seize her! Bring her to me!’
His hoarse voice rasped the order and Reverend Johnson signalled to the Tithingmen standing at the door. They stepped forward to take me, but the place was descending into uproar. All around people were rising, jostling each other to see what was happening. Girls were crying out from all over the room, flailing about, falling and fainting. I ducked down, dodging elbows, stepping over the bench, to get to the back of the room. Tobias had seen me. He left his place on the men’s benches and lifted the bar on the door. I slipped out under his arm and the door shut behind me. I heard him slide the bar back and saw the door bulge as he settled his bulk against it.
I have taken refuge in Rebekah’s borning room. Rebekah is near her time, very near. Martha says they will not dare to enter here. Sarah has brought me what I asked for: food, boy’s clothing, a blanket. I take the moccasins and the little leather pouch from my box and put it round my neck. My few precious things. All I have to show for my life so far lived. All I have to take with me to the wilderness. I must take my chances there. If I stay here, I hang for sure. I want to stay. I want to see the baby safe delivered. Rebekah’s birth pains come closer together, it will not be long now, but I can stay no longer. Martha hovers like a frightened bird and
Mary’s diary ends here.
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Testimony
These pages, written in a different hand, were found in the borders of the quilt
I am an unlettered woman, but I feel beholden to keep faith with her and finish her story (what I know of it).
She wanted to stay, but had no choice but for to go. They came straight from the Meeting House, guessing rightly that she would run like a vixen to her own home cover. We did what we could for her by way of food and clothing that would be fitting, for the nights were getting bitter cold and she was heading for wilderness parts.
They came in deputation, Reverend Johnson, Elias Cornwell, along with Nathaniel Clench and the constables and a crowd of others. John Rivers and Tobias stood ready with musket and sword, but Sarah forbade them to fight.
She and John told them that Mary has been and gone.
John and Sarah are well-respected, Sarah is well-connected to several leading families, and never a stain to her name. John likewise. The constables stood all undecided, looking to Nathaniel Clench at the head of them, and Sarah is related. Under his direction they would have gone away. But Reverend Johnson steps forward and orders them to search the place.
‘Search all you like,’ Sarah says to Johnson. ‘She’s not here.’
They did search, both houses, from eaves to root cellar. All except the borning room. They found nothing. So they come back again, demanding to enter where no man should be.
‘You’ll not pass.’ I stepped forward. ‘Not with him at any rate.’ They had a stranger with them. A withered stick of a man, coughing and spluttering blood in his kerchief. The mark of death is upon him. He ain’t long for this world. ‘He has the coughing sickness, like as not consumption. Would you have him breathe infection on another newborn? Go your ways, masters. There’s work to do here. Women’s work. When the babe is born, you can search all you want.’
I stood before them, hands bloodied. Behind me Rebekah was screaming in pain in good and earnest. The men flinched back, as well they might. Tobias steps up, John with him. They stood before the door, shoulder to shoulder. To get in, the men would have to go through them.
They went away, warning that they would be back.
Tobias stood guard until morning. By then the baby had come, and Mary was gone. John Rivers offered her his horse but she refused it, saying that where she was going a horse would be next to useless. He did what he could, seeing her safe out of the village and into the forest. From there she went on alone.
Rebekah’s had a girl child. She names her Mary Sarah, but the child will not be baptised here.
We are leaving, as soon as may be. Now the crying out has started, it will not stop. Cheated of one, they will go for others. Me and Jonah, like as not. I don’t reckon much on our chances, what with him a stranger and me a healer, and Jonah is inclined to agree. They might stay off John and Sarah, for a while at least, because of their standing, but there’s never any telling. Many a woman of wealth and position has swung from the gallows tree. Jonah is packing the wagon, we will go as soon as he has finished.
Sarah and John will come on with Rebekah and Tobias, as soon as Rebekah is well enough to travel. I counsel no delay.
She showed me where her writings were hid, as I scribe this, I sew it in with the rest. When we leave, I will take her box and this quilt in it. One day, mayhap, she will find us and she can take back her story. Until that day comes, I will keep all safe. Then she will know how I kept faith.
We depart for Salem, no one stopping us, but think to go south from there. Jonah has heard of places where folk are freer to follow their own conscience, which is one of the reasons we crossed over the ocean in the first place. We will leave word for her, each place we go.
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Afterword
Since the discovery of these diaries work has been continuing to trace Mary Newbury and the other people in the account.
If you have any information regarding any of the individuals and families mentioned, please contact our website or e-mail Alison Ellman at
[email protected].
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Celia Rees
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Celia Rees is one of Britain’s foremost writers for teenagers and her titles for Bloomsbury have enjoyed huge success. Witch Child is required reading in secondary schools up and down the country, and has been translated into over 25 languages. A former English teacher, Celia also has a degree in history, a strong interest in which is evident in her brilliantly researched books. Sorceress, Pirates! and Sovay have all met similar critical acclaim and are loved for their strong characters and skilfully plotted adventures. Her most recent book for Bloomsbury is Sovay, which was longlisted for the Carnegie Prize 2009. Celia Rees lives in Leamington Spa, with her husband and has a grown daughter.
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www.celiarees.com
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www.bloomsbury.co.uk
Table of Contents
Cover
Imprint
Also by Celia Rees
Dedication
Foreword
Beginning
Journey 1
Journey 2 The Voyage
New World
Journey 3 Wilderness
Settlement
Witness
Testimony
Afterword
About the author
Celia Rees, Witch Child
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