Gallows Hill by Lois Ruby

Author:Lois Ruby [Ruby, Lois]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction-Young Adult, Fiction, young adult fiction, historical fiction, Salem witch trials, realism, mystery, friendship, Massachusetts, history, prejudice, Quakers, Puritans, injustice
ISBN: 9781728493930
Publisher: Lerner Publishing Group
Published: 2023-08-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

June

Patience

We Woodstocks gather in a circle in front of the hearth, with Ruff at Father’s feet, for our customary Bible lesson in the evening light.

Father reads to us from Isaiah with frightening gusto. “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you . . .”

I feel soggy just thinking of it. My mind wanders to Sarah Good’s ghastly trial and to the others that followed it. Four other women are condemned to die with Goody Good. Even Rebecca Nurse, who’s always seemed so pious and has been held in such esteem, will go to Gallows Hill. Tituba is spared for now, perhaps because she was so forthcoming with the magistrates from the beginning. Or perhaps because Reverend Parris wants her spared, as she’s his property.

“When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze . . .” Father roars.

Mother and I both look at Abigail, whose face is serene, unburnt—her bewitching afflictions past, please God. Or have they merely passed, only to return when we least expect them?

“Daughter.” Father’s look my way is stern as the pages of the Bible flutter closed.

“Amen,” I say hastily.

Most evenings, this is when Father goes to sleep, so that he can wake hours before first light when the fish run. The rest of us always sigh in relief when we hear him settle into his bed, making the ropes groan, and again when his snores rock our house. But now he puts the Bible on the high shelf over the hearth and says, “So, I’ll stop in the privy, then be off. Don’t know when I’ll be home.”

“Husband, I beg you, do not go!”

What is this? Father’s word is law in our house; Mother almost never steps in.

“I must go, Bethia. Duty calls me.”

“You mean to tell me Joseph Herrick can’t conduct an arrest on his own? He should need no help to subdue a wretched old crone, half-blind and bent nearly in two. A burly, quick-fisted man like that! They say he takes a switch to his wife, and his daughters fare no better.”

“Pay no heed to the gossipmongers,” Father says, smashing his hat onto his balding head.

“Is it not all gossip, husband? Is it not gossip that sends you to capture a poor old woman, a penniless widow?”

“A witch,” Father hisses. “And we have our own child’s word against her. Do you not believe that Abigail is tormented?”

I cast a nervous glance toward Abigail, but she appears not to hear the conversation. Her eyes are on some distant shore.

“By Sarah Good, aye,” Mother whispers. “We know of Sarah Good’s wickedness. But when did Goodwidow Blevins do any of us harm? And why should she begin now?”

Father scoffs. “Herrick is arresting her tonight, and I will be there to see to it that she does not escape through some demonic trickery.”

Mother turns her back to him and crosses her arms over her bodice.

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