Crane Pond

Europa Editions
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously.
Copyright © 2016 by Richard Francis
First publication 2016 by Europa Editions
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
Cover Art by Emanuele Ragnisco
www.mekkanografici.com
ISBN 9781609453565

Richard Francis

CRANE POND

A NOVEL OF SALEM

For Jo

 

First
, We have the Peoples
Enjoyment
, That was,
An
Hedge
. The Hebrew word here notes, A
Wall
, made either of
Stone
or
Wood
. The Metaphor Signifies,
The
Protection
of God, about our Comforts; with a
Defence
and
Shelter
from Innumerable Mischiefs . . .
Next
, We have the Peoples
Misery
. That was, A
Gap
.
The Hebrew word here notes, A
Breach
, at which Destroying
Enemies
may make their Entrance . . .
Lastly
, We have the
Expectation
of our God concerning such a People. He says,
I Sought for a Man, that should make up the Hedge, and stand in the Gap
. . . .
So then, there is a most Solemn and Weighty CASE; indeed, the
more
Solemn and Weighty, because it is, OUR OWN,
Case
: where-with I am now to Entertain you.

—C
OTTON
M
ATHER,
Memorable Passages, relating to New-England
(Boston, 1694)

Sewall Household:

Samuel Sewall, merchant and part-time judge; Hannah, his wife

Their children: Hannah Jr; Samuel Jr; Elizabeth (Betty); Joseph; Mary; Sarah

Their dead children: John; Hull; Stephen; Judith

Their servants: Sarah; Bastian; Susan

 

Pirates:

Thomas Hawkins, captain of a Salem fishing boat

Thomas Pound, pilot of HM
Rose

Thomas Johnson, who glared at Sewall

Four common pirates

 

Stephen Sewall household:

Stephen Sewall, brother of Samuel; Margaret Sewall, his wife

Betty Parris, 9, daughter of Samuel Parris, the minister at Salem Village, temporarily fostered in this household

 

Samuel Sewall's fellow judges:

Jonathan Corwin, one of the justices involved in the preliminary examinations

Thomas Danforth, who became a critic of the trials

John Hathorne, chief interrogator during the preliminary examinations

Nathaniel Saltonstall, who also became a critic of the trials

Wait Still Winthrop, advocate of the pirates' cause

William Stoughton, chief judge of the Court of Oyer and Terminer; also acting deputy governor, later acting governor, Massachusetts Bay

 

Ministers:

James Bayley, former minister at Salem Village

Cotton Mather, perhaps the most learned man in New England; his father Increase Mather, who negotiated the new Massachusetts Bay charter; both of the North Church, Boston

Nicholas Noyes, minister at Salem Town, hater of wigs and witchcraft

Samuel Parris, minister at Salem Village, in whose manse the witchcraft began

Samuel Willard, South Church, Boston, Samuel Sewall's minister

 

Those accused of witchcraft:

John Alden, friend of Samuel Sewall, sailor and Indian fighter

Bridget Bishop, first witch to be tried

George Burroughs, former minister at Salem Village

Martha Carrier, designated consort of George Burroughs in American Hell

Giles Corey, who refused to plead; Martha Corey, his wife

Sarah Good, a muttering woman

Tituba Indian, slave of Samuel Parris, also an accuser

George Jacobs, an old man on crutches; Margaret Jacobs, his granddaughter (briefly an accuser)

Susannah Martin, who was beaten by John Pressy in 1668

Rebecca Nurse, whose sisters Mary Easty and Sarah Cloyse were also accused

Sarah Osborne, who was visited by a
thing

John Proctor, innkeeper, and his wife Elizabeth

John Willard, no relation of the minister Samuel Willard

 

Accusers:

George Barker, auditor of witches

Sarah Churchill, servant of George Jacobs

John Pressy, who described an encounter with Susannah Martin in 1668

Ann Putnam, aged 11, the most prolific accuser

Mary Warren, the serving girl in the Proctors' inn

Mary Walcott, aged 17

Abigail Williams, aged 11

Susan Wilson, who witnessed Mr. Burroughs' Satanic sacrament

Captain Wormwood, who accused George Burroughs of supernatural feats of strength

 

Other characters:

Anne, housekeeper to the Salem Town minister Nicholas Noyes

Jeremiah Belcher, Samuel Sewall's tenant on Hogg Island; Mrs. Belcher, his wife; the young Belcher

Simon Bradstreet, acting governor of Massachusetts Bay colony

Thomas Brattle, critic of the witchcraft trials

Mr. Checkley, general store owner, employer of Sam Sewall Jr

William and Abigail Dummer, kinfolk of Hannah Sewall, farmers

John Eliot, translator of the Bible into Algonquian

Thomas Fiske, greengrocer, foreman of the witchcraft jury

Samuel Gaskill, who fell into Boston harbour, friend of Sam Sewall Jr

Jacob Goodale, the victim of Giles Corey in 1675

Mr. Hobart, Sam Sewall Jr's tutor

John Hurd, tailor and neighbour of Samuel Sewall; Nurse Hurd, his wife

Jane, a slave, the sweetheart, then wife, of Bastian, the Sewall household servant

Jacob Melyen, a critic of the trials

Michael Perry, bookshop owner, employer of Sam Sewall Jr

Sir William Phips, governor of Massachusetts Bay

Thomas Putnam, father of Ann Putnam, accuser

Robert Walker, elderly member of South Church congregation, sufferer from sleeping sickness

Josiah Willard, son of the minister, friend of Sam Sewall Jr

Captain Wing, landlord of the Castle Tavern, maker of fine pies

Madam Winthrop, defender of the pirates; wife of Wait Still Winthrop, judge

 

 

 

The
Unsettlements
that we have had since the
Revolution
, have they not rendred us like the
Sea,
which cannot rest, whose Waters cast up Mire and Mud
?

—C
OTTON
M
ATHER,
Memorable Passages,
relating to New-England
(Boston, 1694)

H
ere comes Samuel Sewall, making his way to breakfast on a cold January morning in 1690, the windows filled with snow-light.

‘My dear,' wife Hannah says. ‘You've brought the bed with you.'

He pats the coverlet that is spread over his ample nightshirt like a shawl and smiles. The fire is burning brightly in the grate but their hall is large, and Boston is cold in the winter. ‘First prayer,' he says, ‘then pie.'

‘Pie?' Hannah asks.

‘Ha, pie,' says young Sam.

‘Pie!' Betty exclaims, as if it's a war cry.

Daughter Hannah gives her shy smile, not sure whether to be for pie or against.

Two-year-old Joseph, sitting on a heap of cushions to raise him up in his chair, waves his spoon.

Sewall's own smile has faded. ‘The venison pie, from yesterday,' he explains.

‘I know the pie,' Hannah tells him. ‘I made the pie. Well, Sarah made it while I talked to her. But I just wondered if it elbowed out the prayer a little. You put the two so close together.'

‘Father is full of pie-ety,' cries Sam suddenly.

Sam is eleven, unable to do the simplest sum. He'll bend over his book for hours, trying to figure out, if one apple costs such and such, then how much for seven? Or rather look out of the window or scribble drawings on the page while he should be doing the calculation. But then he will fire off some quip as if being young is itself a trigger of wit.

‘It's Hannah's turn to read the lesson,' Sewall says, taking his chair at the head of the table. Hannah blushes and squirms. She's ten, but youth doesn't spark
her
. In fact her long and bony awkwardness already has a spinsterish quality to it. Her spectacles look anxiously across at him, two pale discs. Her mother looks anxiously across at him too, hand grasping young Hannah's forearm. Sewall, abashed, suddenly chilled, raises his arms to pull the coverlet tighter.

‘Father,' Betty tells him, ‘you look just like an angel flapping his wings.'

She is nine, but hardly needs her youth to generate wit, having plenty of that on her own account. Sewall knows too well how daughter Hannah will read the lesson, bumping into word after word like obstacles in a fog. ‘Perhaps Betty needs to read the lesson instead, to stop her being so foolish,' he says.

‘Oh yes, father,' whispers Hannah. She looks nervously at Betty to see her reaction but Betty is pleased. She loves to read.

Both his daughters are happy at this outcome. Is that a good thing? Perhaps it would be better for Hannah if she were forced. She might learn to improve. And perhaps Betty wants to read for the wrong reason or in the wrong way, to show off. Every action is weighed, each and every one, however small, and sometimes you can't tell which way the scales have moved.

‘Pay attention to the meaning,' he tells Betty. She nods vigorously. ‘You, too,' he tells Hannah, who also nods. Their mother, head bowed towards the table top, gives one nod, grown-up currency being more valuable. Her nod is one of agreement, of parental alliance, to encourage the children. He turns to Sam. ‘We must all pay attention to the meaning.' Sam doesn't nod. He has put a horrible grimace on his face, picked up the knife from beside his plate, and is trying to see himself reflected in the blade. Sewall gives him a long look but Sam is impervious to looks.

The reading is Isaiah, Chapter 24, one of the most dismal passages in the whole Bible. Betty makes the most of its gloom, so much so that Sewall's uneasiness increases. It's one thing being expressive, quite another to sound like an actress. Play-acting is banned in New England for good reason, because it's a sort of lying.

‘“Behold”,' Betty says. She looks up from the Bible and screws up her eyes as if the breakfast table is a vast wilderness. ‘”The Lord maketh the earth empty, and turneth it upside down”'—her voice sinks to a whisper—‘and scattereth abroad the inhabitants thereof.”'

Suddenly she stops dead. For a moment Sewall thinks it's a pause for effect and this time he decides he must intervene. These are not her words, they belong to God. Then he looks up and sees her raspberry face, eyes brimming with tears. Before he can speak she has left the room.

Suddenly all is quiet. The three remaining children, Sam, Hannah, and little Joseph, stare at her empty chair as if in amazement that she has suddenly become invisible. Wife Hannah looks at the door through which Betty has passed. The unspoken words of today's text hang in the air.
God's people have broken the everlasting covenant.

‘I'll go to her,' wife Hannah says. As she leaves the room she almost collides with Sarah coming in with the remains of the pie on a large platter. Pieces of venison have tumbled out of the pastry following yesterday's dissection at dinnertime and the gravy has jellied a little so it gleams pleasantly. Sarah poises her body as one might hold a finger to the wind to gauge its direction. Then she puts the pie down on the table, gives everyone a long-suffering look as if whatever difficulty that has arisen has been aimed at her personally, and leaves without a word.