her name in God’s book; he realized she was innocent of every single accusation raised against her. He realized that it was the first time he had considered the woman completely without guilt, and that she was bound for the place every Puritan prayed for, and he also realized at the same moment that he was not. That his soul was trapped here and in perdition if not Hades.
# # # # #
From the distance that they chose to safely maintain, the Nurse family watched the inevitable tragedy unfold at the gallows, seeing the condemned summarily killed one after the other while armed militia and guards stood all around to prevent any disturbance of this officially sanctioned murder. And they had seen the moment between Mother Nurse and Samuel Parris, and how disturbed he appeared as he stumbled off. He did not stop but rushed away, going back toward the village in his black uniform, alone. He did not turn back and did not watch when the final platform was dropped, its hinges crying out.
Rebecca had lost a great deal of weight while in prison, and when she fell, her weight was not so taut on the rope as the others, all of whom were heftier. As a result, Rebecca suffered longer—so long, in fact, it was no longer fun for the more sober among the crowd, especially when they watched the blood spilling over her lips and marring her clothing at what seemed the very spot where Christ had been pierced by a Roman spear while he suffered on the cross. In fact, someone shouted, “She is a martyr to this madness! She is closer to God and Christ than any man, woman, or child here!” The voice sounded like some drunkard, but in a moment Serena and Jeremy realized it was Ben! He had come with a wagon, the rear decked out with blankets and a pillow like an oversized coffin. He drove through the crowd, parting them and placing the bed of the wagon as close to his mother’s body as he could. Tarbell and Joseph rushed to join him, and by now Ben had a huge knife in hand, making his way beneath the gallows, and shouting through the drop, “You, bloody hangman! You cut her down or I will!”
For some time the crowd had fallen silent, as they’d been watching Rebecca’s considerably slower death throes. None of them had ever seen five witches hung all in a row, nor anyone take so long to die in this manner as Mother Nurse. Some thought she may have escaped death somehow.
Herrick, Putnam, and a small army of armed men had also moved in on Ben when they saw the knife and understood his intentions. Others held back Tarbell and Joseph at gunpoint. By this time Jeremy had leapt into what was building to a fight.
“The magistrates have ordered the condemned remain here!” Herrick challenged Ben below the gallows, holding a smooth bore gun on him, the men within two feet of one another.
“What do you mean, remain here?”
“They’ll swing here until nightfall. It’s my orders.”
“You filthy barbarians!” he shouted loud enough for all to hear.
“It’s a matter of example,” replied Herrick. “An example to anyone who turns to the dark arts and—”
“My mother is no witch and never was!”
Jeremy had somehow managed to meander and zigzag through the crowed to get to Ben. He stepped between Ben, brandishing the knife while Herrick pointed his deadly weapon on one side, and Ptunam—itchy finger at the ready—on the other side. Jeremy had no weapon and he held both hands in the air. “No one need get hurt here.”
“Tell your kinsman here, Mr. Wakely,” began Herrick, never taking his eyes off Ben, “the bodies of the hanged witches remain swingin’ on the rope the rest of the day.”
“But these are mothers, sisters, aunts here,” Jeremy pleaded. “Haven’t you taken enough of this man’s dignity and soul?” Jeremy pointed to Ben.
“We’ve orders—until dusk.”
“At which time, we can take Mother Nurse’s remains home, Ben,” Jeremy said, trying to defuse this situation.
“Don’t misunderstand me, Mr. Wakely,” countered Herrick.
“What? What’re you saying?”
“We cut them down at dusk, but the bodies remain here—as with Bishop’s body.”
Jeremy saw now that a huge, communal hole had been dug back of the scaffolding—a common grave. In fact, he saw the decayed forearm and hand of Bridget Bishop looking at first like the exposed root of a tree. “You can’t be serious!”
“It’s our orders, man!” shouted Putnam from behind Jeremy, making Jeremy wheel around to face Thomas.
“Have you men no heart left?”
“This is not up to us. We just take orders.” Putnam looked as if he might fire at the least provocation. “Now if you two are bent on standing in the way of official business, we in the militia and Mr. Herrick’s office, we cut the ropes, and we guard against the witches coming back to life or being carried off and buried in consecrated ground.”
“What is the point of not turning over the dead to their families?” Jeremy persisted.
“Example,” Herrick repeated.
“A condemned witch—which is what these five are,” added Putnam, “go to Hell together, right here at the foot of Watch Hill.”
“Look, it’s not anything we wanted; it’s what the judges and the ministers have said.”
“Left in shallow graves? You know there’re wolves hereabout, pigs, vultures.”
“Forget about trying any reason with these Christians,” Ben said to Jeremy. He threw the knife with such speed no one realized it until it twanged inches from Putnam’s eyes where it had dug deep into the post beside him. “Come on, Jeremy.” Ben charged from beneath the gallows, climbed behind the reins on the wagon with Jeremy beside him, and pulled away. Joseph caught up and leapt onto the back and extended a hand to Tarbell who, in turn, followed suit.
“The bastards!” Ben shouted, tears freely flowing as they rushed from the throng.
# # # # #
Serena stood far back on a hill watching the charade, her heart crushed by the events, glad only that she’d managed to talk many of her nephews and nieces to stay away from the executions. Francis leaned against her as if he might faint; seeing his beloved executed in this manner was unbearable, and she had done all she could to keep him away even to the extent that she would stay back with him. However, her father insisted as he still held onto the belief that at the last moment, those who had set his wife up in this false business would simply be unable to follow through—not with Rebecca. The others maybe, but not Rebecca.
Serena had watched the incident with Ben racing in for their mother’s body, and she’d feared they might lose Ben as well, and perhaps even Jeremy when she watched him rush down toward the gallows along with Joseph and Tarbell and other Nurse men who’d come to see this horrid injustice unfold. She now breathed a sigh of relief on seeing Ben, Jeremy, and the others race off in the wagon, unharmed and not arrested.
Serena wrapped a blanket around her father, who, despite the heat, was shivering as if with chilled, and sitting him beside her, she tore off in the wagon, rushing from this place and wishing to put the ugly images behind them, but also anxious to reunite with Jeremy and her brothers. They soon did reunite on the road back to Francis’ home, what had been Rebecca’s home. When Jeremy saw Serena racing her team to catch up, he told Ben to slow his horses. In a moment, the two wagons were alongside one another on the wide Ipswich Road.
“Tonight,” Jeremy shouted to the others and stood to shift his weight, and then to leap from the one wagon to the other to rejoin Serena and Francis. “Tonight at first dark, we go in and get our Mother Nurse.”
“You do that, but we’re taking Father home,” Serena told the brothers in the other wagon.
Jeremy kissed and hugged her and said, “I’m going, too.”
“There are three of them, and they hardly need your help.”
“I need to do this, Serena.”
She kissed him. “You frightened me once already today. I thought sure Putnam was going to shoot you.”
“He hadn’t the nerve.”
“If you must do this, Jeremy, and I think you must—come back to me safe, and keep the others safe.”
Jeremy nodded and leapt back onto the other wagon. Without a word, every man aboard knew what they wanted and how they would go about it.”
# # # # #
