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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

The Salem Witch Trials


Merelas

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... to bring her and he before the Court of Oyer and Terminer on this Second day of June, 1692 Anno Domini, in order to face the charges of Witchcraft against the people of Salem, specifically Abigail Williams and Mary Saulister, afflicted persons who have cried out against them. Godspeed.

 

Signed by Authority of Marshall, Apostle Devonshire, Salem, Mass.

 

It was the warrant that Peter and Elizabeth Mercy now read as Apostle Devonshire, the town Sherriff waited to take them away. They were both being charged with witchcraft, and there would be no escaping it.

 

Their hands were bound behind them as they mounted the vehicle that would bear them to trial... "The Witch Wagon," some of the children of the village were affectionately calling it. Elizabeth wept, and Peter held her as she did so. Before long, they reached the Town Meeting house, and faced their accusers and most of the town.

 

As they walked into the prison, people around them shouted, "Wizard! Witch! Recite the Lord's Prayer!", "Blasphemers! Contractors with the Devil!"

 

Elizabeth sobbed as she stepped inside. The others were cowering in the corner.

 

"So it begins," Peter said.

Edited by Merelas
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"It didn't begin here," one voice insisted from the crowd. "You began it yourself, Satan-Worshippers!"

 

Amelia Parcel finished speaking and immediately hugged her husband close. "If they don't convict these people now, who will make sure our children are safe?" Her tone was a whisper, now, but a few of the townspeople picked it up and started repeating it.

 

"We have to keep our children safe!"

 

"We have to safeguard this town!"

 

"We can't let the Devil have his way with Salem!"

 

"Kill them now, while we can!"

 

Peter only hung his head.

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Anne Arthur, right besides Amelia, pats her arm.

 

"Our children will be safe, Amelia. God is merciful and almighty. He pointed out these witches, so that we can root the evil from amidst us."

 

She looks at Elisabeth and Arthur, shaking her head.

 

"Satan-worshipers... and they were so shameless as to be part of our activities. Remember how Peter volunteered to help with our last barbecue, dear friend? And Elisabeth, always chattering about how beautiful our children were, and how glad she would be when they could have their own."

 

Probably wanted them for some ritual, she thinks with a frown. And they've been missing some of the services... all within good reason, but even so...

 

"And if they are innocent?" whispers someone.

 

Anne turns into the direction of the voice, saying in a soft tone, "If they are innocent, they haven't anything to be afraid of. But poor Abigail and Mary deserve justice, and no one can doubt they were victims of witchcraft."

 

Having said that, she looks around, searching her husband amid those who lead the accused couple into the prison.

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Thomas Parcel looked over the two.

Not to count the chickens before they were hatched, but the Mercy's were not poor.

If they were convicted and executed, most of their estate would be seized.

Their goods, chattel, and land would be auctioned off.

With a percentage going to the church.

Gods will is his will.

 

'I would much rather my neighbors be innocent,' he thought.

'Of at least this crime.

'We are all sinners.

 

'I will pray twice as hard tonight before bed.

'For their souls, innocent or not.'

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**Scoff**

 

Eric dobbins was no fool. Being the church usher he was one of the first to notice when the Mercys started mising services. And he had always been suspicous of them from the start. They just didn't seem the same as the rest.

 

Of course being a good christain, he didn't speak ill of his fellow man, though he might have told the Reverend, and of course it was his civil duty to tell the sherriff, and he might have mentioned something to Thomas Parcel in passing, and Anne Arthur discussed it with him yesterday, but other than that, he didn't tell anyone.

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Fourteen years-old Silence Withney looks at the two accused with a stare filled with both fascination and fear at once! She looks up to her mother, Allison Whithey, who glares at them until she feels her daughter's gaze.

 

- What is it, Silence?wonders Allison by giving her daughter a gentle look.

 

- Mother, why people choose to be witches? I don't understand how you cannot trust the Lord.

 

Allison sighs, acknowleging that her daughter is now at that turbulent teenage and that there's no use to withdraw any answers.

 

- This is what we will find out at this trial. Because I too don't understand these people.

 

While Allison turns her attention back toward the suspects, Silence returns into her own thoughts. Realizing that perhaps her mother doesn't have the answers, she decides that the best is to heeds to her suggestion and to follow the trial closely.

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Charles Arthur looked up from his desk as the wagon rolled past. Even now he was recording the minutes in one of the ledgers...

 

He was on this set's tribunal. Sure, they had been seen together and had missed a great many sundays... But deep withen himself Charles had a pit of doubt. If this trend were to continue, there would be far too few to work the harvest.

 

But that would have prosed problematic at the trial. Doubt would breed doubt in others, and if he was to find the true heathen he would need to remain in the good graces of the council.

 

So he spent the afternoon going over the ledgers. Hoping somewhre in the past judgements of the town he could find a grain of truth, strong enough to find the true witch... even if there is one.

 

He drew himself a glass of water from a handy pitcher, and began pouring over another book...

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Govenor Donovan James, sat in the meeting house, his mind working through the events of the last months.

 

As the King'a appointed representative to lead the great Province of Massachusets he had his hands full. The trial of witches by the church, he had been appointed to arrange things, to ensure impartiality in the judgment of the accused. It was a troubling thing to have to do, He did not share the almost fanatical views of the towns people, although he was a religious man, he attended services through duty most of the time, especially here. The town rumor mill seemed to grind any that dared miss a service with or without explaination. It was that which seemed to have brought the accusations upon Peter and Elizabeth Mercy, or fueled the opportunity to accuse them.

 

Donovan looked around the hall at the gathering crowd, (mob may be more accurate) sencing the fanatical frenzy that seemed to prevail. This trail will be a test of his diplomacy. This mob seemed to care little for justice, they seemed to want blood, innocent or otherwise, the accused have been condemed already by many of their neighbours, and even those they would have counted as friends.

 

Waiting patiently with his thoughts, Donovan sat, 'Time to see the Mercy this Church has to offer' he thought, before his mouth twitched up at his next silent play on words, 'Well the Church has Mercy, on trial, both Mr and Mrs'

 

:raven:

 

[edit: word change, state for Province]

Edited by cryptomancer
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Justice Hawthorne stared at Elizabeth, who was already nearly in tears.

 

"Give us the names of those within your coven! I demand that you surrender them to the judgement of our Lord God the Almighty!" he thundered, and she burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably.

 

"Enough of this nonsense!" Peter exclaimed, standing from his position in the rows of observers, although his hands were still bound and the sherriff still stood watch over him.

 

Immediately upon his rising, the girls flew into fits of screaming and torment. All stood up with him in unison, and mimicked his actions. Only Annabell Saulister, the adult in the group of afflicted, looked at him. She cried out in terror at the sight.

 

"He raises a great raven against us... Mark it, all of you!" She bellowed, pointing near Peter in abject terror. "No, keep back, foul crow!" she screamed then, and dove under the pews. The girls quickly followed suit, with Abigail pointing and screaming and Mercy cowering under the bench.

 

"Release these good christians of your incantations, Wizard!" Screamed Justice Hawthorne as he started towards Peter. The sherriff forced him back down into his seat then, and immediately the girls and Annabell's afflictions ceased.

 

"Chief Justice, I submit the immediately preceding event as Spectral Evidence of Peter and Elisabeth Mercy's participation in the damning acts of Witchcraft! I ask that the jury be dismissed to obtain a verdict!"

 

"If it pleases the court," said the jury foreman--a round man, with an extremely large forehead, "we have a verdict ready."

 

"Mr. Foreman, please stand and deliver the verdict of your jury of peers."

 

"We find Elisabeth Mercy guilty of Witchcraft and suggest a sentence of death by rope hanging at Gallows Hill tomorrow morning at Dawn. We find Peter Mercy guilty of witchcraft and suggest the same sentence."

 

"Very well. Sentence and verdict adopted this ninth day of June, 1692, Anno Domini.

 

They were hung at the sun's first light.

 

OOC:

 

Night Phase begins. All characters with special roles, please PM me your selections.

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Thomas Parcel groaned again and wrapped his cloak about him.

The flux had grasped his bowels and would not let go.

These woods were not condusive to good health in the second place.

"No, go on," he had told the other trappers. "I'll be along in a minute."

That had been a half hour ago.

The gathering gloom was not alarming, but would soon be frightening.

Strong men had died of the flux.

He hoped that with the death of the witches, the flux would be more natural, too.

 

He thought of just hitching his britches and getting home safe.

But then a cut across his gut told him 'maybe a few minutes more'.

 

He waited and endured and promised to be home before full dark.

When the spirits walked.

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Anne knocks softly on the door, and as Charles answers she enters with a tray.

 

"It's getting late, Charles... dinner will be ready in a while. The children are restless with the witches' trial and hanging. "

 

Reverend Arthur nods, thanking the tea his wife has brought. "Thank you, Anne. I have to finish this for tomorrow's service, but I will also talk to the children."

 

She serves the tea, thoughtful. "I hope they were the last of them, God have mercy on us... "

 

I do hope they were. There have been so many lately... the children are either scared or too curious, it is not easy to steer them into the right path when all they see are shadows...

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Anne Arthur walked back into the kitchen, and continued stirring the kettle that was over the hearth. Her children sat watching her. All were silent--it was uneasy that her outgoing children be silent... a testimony to the times, she supposed.

 

Dinner was ready presently, and she called to the good Reverend in his study. He gave a grunt of acknowledgement, which she took to mean that he would be along shortly. The family sat to supper without him--which, although it was improper to eat without the head of the house, he had insisted on. He often worked late, occasionally through dinner altogether. Such was his devotion to the calling God had given him. His wife admired that, but sometimes didn't understand.

 

When all four of them had finished (Anne and the children), she escorted them upstairs to bed, tucking them in and kissing each on the forehead before bidding them to sleep well.

 

She descended the stairs again, and made sure that some of the stew she had prepared would still be ready when Charles finally decided that he was prepared for the following day's sermon.

 

Sadly, there was to be none.

 

Walking past the burnt remains of the stew, still in the kettle over the fire, she knocked on the door to the Reverend's study, then entered, only to find him dead over his desk.

 

His shirt had been removed, and he lay face down with his back exposed. A dark circle had been placed or drawn there, with a five-pointed star that pointed away from his head inside of it.

 

Those who were familliar with Witchcraft knew it to be the Dark Pentacle--fortelling of death.

 

OOC: DeantheAdequate was slaughtered by a witch--and it appears that there may just be one real one in Salem. The Reverend was a righteous man, and worthy of praise. Pious, compassionate, hard-working... and the FaithKeeper of Salem. The Court of Oyer and Terminer is now in session. Accuse who you will, and whomever recieves a majority of the votes will be hung at Dawn. Godspeed.

Edited by Merelas
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Anne cries silently at the Reverend's burial, her children clinging tight to her. Jessica and Joseph, 12 and 9, each to one side of her, and the youngest, Hannah, 7, crying pietously with her face buried into her lap.

 

"Papa is alright, baby..." whispers Anne, patting Hannah's head and letting her tears fall over her. "He is with God our Father, and he will send his love and his care to us all. He will protect us."

 

"Is he happy, then, Mother? For leaving us?" Joseph looks at her, blinking tears - a man does not cry.

 

"Not for leaving us, Joe... but because he is now in the presence of God. He was a loving father to every one of us, he was the voice of God here among us... he was righteous. He will keep sending us his love. We must accept that he is gone, that our Father wanted him at his side."

 

She sighs, hugging all her children.

 

We fell in love so long ago... my blessed brother Peter, your friend, who brought you into our house when you were still a young minister.... Charles, why? God have mercy on us, who would have done such deed? What witch could have reached out for you in our own house, blessed by God and protected by our faith?"

 

Amelia's hand closes on Anne's shoulder, while Allison and Selene Whitney talk to her children and prie them out of her mother's grasp gently.

 

"Anne, you must rest... let us help you in this hour, as you have helped so many of us."

 

Anne nods, numbly. But as she looks into Amelia's eyes, there's the shadow of a cold determination.

 

"I want this witch, Amelia.... " whispers her. "I want this witch to stand in Court, and face us and our faith, and see her pleading to Satan to help her just to realize there's no power above God."

 

"Vengeance, Anne?"

 

"Vengeance is in the hands of God, Amelia... but I am human, and I loved Charles. My heart wants this village protected. My heart wants my husband to rest in peace, knowing that we rooted the evil out. I *am* his wife, dear friend... I must also see that we aren't left completely lost without our Reverend."

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Samantha approaches Anne, muttering some supportive words about how Reverend Arthur had helped her after her husband's death.

 

"Thanks, Mrs. Bones..." Anne clasps her hand.

 

Old Mr. Bones... poor man. Was that ten years ago, already? Yes... Charles and I had been here for three years. It was the year Jessica got pneumonia, and I was pregnant...

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"Vengeance is in the hands of God, Amelia... but I am human, and I loved Charles. My heart wants this village protected. My heart wants my husband to rest in peace, knowing that we rooted the evil out. I *am* his wife, dear friend... I must also see that we aren't left completely lost without our Reverend."

 

"If you can be strong in this hard time.. with more witches obviously roaming, and your husband, our protector, dead... Then I can help you."

 

Amelia saw Anne looking around at their fellow citizens, and knew that she must be wondering about them. "We know each of them, have always trusted each of them..." Amelia looked around too, eyeing them one by one. "Thomas, my husband, whom I love. I know him well, and he has not the time to practice witchcraft anyway. Allison, whose idea it was last year to raise money for the church with the quilt sale. Samantha, who donates so much out of so little. Mr. James, our Govenor, and Eric, our Usher. Not one of these can be capable of witchcraft. They all have children of their own, must know what Satan could do to them. They all support the church and loved the Reverend."

 

"But there's only one person left," said Anne, looking at Amelia again.

 

"Yes. Silence Whitney. I've trusted her with our kids, but until this is over, I can never trust anyone but myself for that task. Silence is young and naive. She may well have been curious about Satan, have called him. She's the only one who hasn't lived long enough to fully understand the love of God. She's the only one who hasn't seen death in her lifetime, to know and fear it. I fear, Anne, that Silence must have been dabbling in witchcraft."

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Anne gasps, shocked.

 

"Amelia! Allison has been part of our circle since I arrived in town... she is so dedicated, she is such an example... her own child...!"

 

Amelia shakes her head, showing her disgust and sadness. "I know, Anne... but it is as I said... she is young and naive, she has never seen death before. She is curious, too curious... didn't you hear her questioning why people choose to be witches? It is not necessarily Allison's fault that she has a wayward daughter."

 

"Yes... I know... but... poor Allison... " She stops, observing young Silence with other eyes.

 

She likes to be alone... never have I met another girl who so deserved the name Silence... She is friendly, but she doesn't care so much for speaking, not with us. I also have trusted my children to her... Lord, what can they be talking about?

 

"Amelia... I think I will talk a bit with my children. Jessica and Joseph are old enough to be trustful, and even little Hannah, in her innocence, can reveal to our eyes what Silence talks about when we leave our children in her care. I would suggest you to do the same... And if we hear something that confirm your suspicions, we must gently prepare Allison, also."

 

Anne sighs softly. "Our children... our biggest treasure. We must protect them."

 

((OOC: I'll be back with an official vote later, I hope... for now, no accusation))

Edited by Tanuchan
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Donovan Stood silently watching the towns people mourn the loss of their beloved Reverend. His thoughts and eyes tracked each one as he weighed the possibility of each as a suspect. His mind dwelt on only two, Silence Whitney, so young as to be still weak in the faith that these people held to so tightly, or Samantha Bones, Widow, who lost her husband to this place, could she have any cause or bitterness towards the people. Turning he walked slowly away, his thoughts shifting to the possibility that either there are many witches in this town, or they hanged two innocents yesterday.

 

As Donovan walked the street towards the town hall, his mind settled more and more on the possibility of one. Regardless of the error of youth, Silence had a strong role model in her mother. The widow Bones however had the years of life to teach her to hide secrets and mask actions with deceit.

 

Samantha is the most likely, from the sake of logic, but it could be any, even those that seem strongest in faith.

 

[OOC:I accuse Samantha Bones]

 

[edit, spelling]

Edited by cryptomancer
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Some mornings later, Anne and Amelia talk in their way to the church.

 

"Amelia, I talked to my children... "

 

And they say some things about Silence that make me wonder....

 

"Did you talk to yours?"

 

But is what they say sufficient? It may be a bit weird, but is that witchcraft she is talking about? Or just a too curious child?

 

 

((OOC: vote for Silence Whitney/Lady Celes. However, if day phase is extended, I ask the mod's leave to eventually change votes... ;)))

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Silence looks at the Reverend's grave and couldn't believe it. But then she feels that suspicions leads toward her.

 

- Mother... Why they are looking at me? Did I do anything wrong?

 

- No dear. They just think you're too young.

 

- Too young for what? I don't understand?

 

Then Anne walks over Silence and looks at her.

 

- May I ask what do you understand about Good and Evil?

 

Silence looks at Anne with a bit of a surprise and then looks over the Reverend's grave.

 

- Only Evil could kill a man of God. As for Good, I'm praying the Lord every night, thanking him for my good health, for my good family. But now, I pray that we find all the witches. I'm maybe young, but I understand the Lord's words more with every passing days.

 

Silence looks around and as soon as her gaze passes upon Samantha Bones, she feels a tingle in her spine. She then whispers to her mother.

 

- Why Mrs Bones makes me feel bad?

 

(OOC: Samantha Bones)

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"The devil can also mimic the words of the Lord, Silence. You say what you've said because you've heard your mother say it... but is it really what you believe?"

 

"Of course I believe in the word of God," says Silence. "What would persuade me to trust Satan?"

 

Amelia shakes her head in frustration. "Any follower of Christ will tell the truth and say that he follows God, but any follower of Satan will lie and say that he follows God! How are we supposed to know the difference? Goodwife Bones I have known for a long time and I feel that I know her well enough to see a lie. Silence, I do not, but that doesn't mean she's not being truthful. Samantha, can you look into my eyes and claim innocence of this deed?"

 

Edit: To "Goodwife". Anyone know the equivalent of "Mr."?

Edited by Katzaniel
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The reverend is Dead.

Oh God save us all.

 

"He is with God our Father, and he will send his love and his care to us all. He will protect us."

Some say that a death by witch craft can hold the soul of the departed. They do not rest easy, they do not go to their reward.

One of the reasons why witchcraft is just so, so, evil.

 

A witch that got to the reverend must have been a trusted person.

A peer.

A...governor?

Oh, that is not a thought to be made in public.

Even a non witch governor could destroy him and his family.

 

I must wait. Watch. Gather proof.

Talk to my wife.

 

He entered the storeroom that led to the outside kitchen cabin.

"Amelia, honey?

"Just how many kids do we have again?

She laughed. As always, many of the neighborhood children were in and around his house, playing with the many toys that he carved during the long winter.

"Seven, eight, I've lost count.

He looked about, and she did the same. No children in the room, or in sight. They exchanged a quick kiss and for once he did not hear the giggling of hidden children.

He smiled then put in his more somber expression.

There was still daylight and the children's chores had been done. It was no problem letting them run now and get tired for later.

He nodded to the servent girl as she came in from the kitchen.

"Blessa."

"Sir," she said, and did a marginal curtsy, allowable considering the large full pot she was carrying.

Blessa continued to take the pot through the house to the table in the front of the house where the bonded men were awaiting their supper after a hard days work in the field.

 

Again, he looked around for observers, but this time looking outside for eavesdroppers. Satisfied, he looked back to see a slight frown on his goodwife's face.

 

"You know we have another witch in Salem."

Shocked by his abruptness, she stammered.

"Yes. The widow Arthur and I suspect it may be Silence Whitney."

He thinks.

One so young. Not even of marriageable age.

"I don't think so. A victim of Satan, yes. A caller, I don't think so.

"The widow Bones on the other hand..."

"That sweet woman?"

"Last you'd suspect."

 

A child's cry came from the front of the house.

He stopped and looked worried and looked towards Amelia.

She gave a soft laugh.

"It's only the Harris boy falling again. Probably into the goose pond. No harm done."

"How do you know that from the sound only?"

"How do you know your figures. Practice."

She leaves with a backward glance for her husband leaving him with his own thoughts.

 

'I must protect this village. Maybe my records will tell me something.'

He goes to his office to pore over the books and the accounts considering the widow Bones. And not forgetting the Governor.

 

A vote for Eyremoon--Samantha Bones, widow

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Allison stands protectively by her daughter. She frowns when Silence asks her question.

 

"Goodwife Bones? Silence, she's not even near you. How could she possibly do anything to make you feel bad from there?"

 

"No, Mother, I mean..." Silence begins to answer, but Allison cuts her off.

 

Quietly, for only Silence to hear, Allison says "You meant nothing. Dear, you must do nothing, say nothing except love of God until the trial has passed. Even innocent words can be misinterpreted."

 

Allison puts an arm around Silence's shoulders, and looks up. She knows the women are whispering and suspecting. How could they blame Silence? My darling...she's too young, too innocent. She loves the Lord as much as I do. What foul witch among us has twisted their hearts that they believe Silence would do such a thing? The trial has left its mark on all of us, and it's not over yet. But maybe if they satsify their bloodlust with someone else, we will be safe. They say maybe Silence, maybe Goodwife Bones. Oh Lord, protect us all..."

 

OOC: Sorry for lack of posting. I've been sadly lacking in inspiration... I vote [Eyremoon--Samantha Bones].

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Silence looks at Amelia straight into her eyes.

 

- The only people who taught me the words of Gods are my mother and our late Reverend. Are you implying that my mother might be a liar? As far as I'm concern, mother based her teaching upon's the Reverend's words so I certainly do not believe I've been lied too.

 

Amelia sighs and leaves while Allison hugs her daugther.

 

- It's no use, her mind is made.

 

- But mother! I didn't do it.

 

Allison gives a gentle kiss on Silence's forehead.

 

- I know, Silence.

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