• Up to 2,500 words
• Genre – Historical Fiction
• Subject – Double Standard
• Character – A love child

What can you say to save yourself when your words have brought death to others?

“Order I say! Order!” Judge Nester banged his gavel repeatedly, adding to the cacophony of sounds echoing around the hardwood floors and the paneled walls of the courtroom.

Charlotte Brown lay convulsing on the floor, next to the witness stand she had fallen from. Her mother Bridget rushed forward and slid her coat beneath Charlotte’s head to prevent further injury as she helplessly watched her daughter flail about. Wailing could be heard by others in the courtroom, along with the screams of the afflicted.

“Your honor,” Magistrate Abraham Graves shouted, to be heard above the crowd. “Clearly you can see, as can we all, the suffering these poor young girls are in, at the hands of the witch, Miss Judith Caldwell. As we stand and bear witness, these girls are being tormented!” His voice boomed throughout the room and seemed to damper the hysteria.

Several watchmen filed into the courtroom and began to restore order among the observers. As the discord in the courtroom diminished, Judge Nester examined the faces of the young girls who were beginning to calm with the assistance of family members and watchmen. 

“Judith Caldwell, in the administration of justice and by the order of this court, given the testimony and observance of witchcraft here today, you are found guilty of devil worship and the practice of witchcraft and are sentenced to hang in two days’ time.” The pounding of the gavel nearly drowned out the cry of despair from the Caldwell family. Guards approached Judith and escorted her from the courtroom to the jail where she would await the fulfillment of her sentence.

Bridget Brown half carried her daughter Charlotte as the observers, witnesses, and magistrates filed from the courthouse. Fussing over Charlotte, Bridget insisted she lay down upon arriving at their home. Warming a simple meal of broth and bread, she sat next to Charlotte’s bed, ready to assist her if needed.

Charlotte’s weakened state lasted for several days. She stayed in bed until after Sunday; the day Judith Caldwell would be hanged.

~~~~~~~~

“Abraham, I am with child.” Charlotte repeated as Abraham stared dully out the window.

“You cannot stay in Salem” Abraham replied as he stood so abruptly, the chair tipped back with a crash. “I will make the arrangements; it must be before quickening, so we will find a colony with a doctor to help dispose of the child and then you can return. Or stay there, it is your choice, but you cannot have a child here.” Abraham paced the small space of his modest home, feeling unusually agitated.

“Abraham, I want this child and I want to be with you. I will not leave town and I will not hear talk of murdering my unborn child. Please,” she implored, as she placed a hand on his arm.

Abraham gazed at her for moments that seemed to stretch for days. His mind raced through the outcome of her announcement, or worse, her telling of the story to others.

“I am sorry,” he lamented, placing his hand over hers. “Your news was most unexpected, and I have reacted harshly.” His thin smile was difficult to keep, and he hoped it did not convey the thoughts in his mind, as he worked through a solution to end this problem. He bent his head and placed a simple kiss on her temple.

“Please” he continued, “return home now to your mother, but do not speak of this yet; for I do not want her to worry needlessly while I ponder on how we should proceed.”

Once Charlotte Brown had left his residence and was surely safely in her own home, he walked the mile through the town to reach the home of magistrate Jasper Hopkins. After a quick knock, Jasper opened the door and welcomed him into the main room and offered Abraham a seat.

“We have a problem.” Abraham tersely stated while accepting the warm ale Jasper offered. “Charlotte Brown has just come to see me and advised she is with child. It would appear she expects me to make good on my affections for her, make her an honest woman, and raise the child.” He drained the contents of the mug at once, wiping the foam from his mustache as he set the empty tankard down.

Jasper tapped his finger against the arm of the chair he reclined in and observed Abraham for a few moments before he replied.

“You were supposed to be careful.” Jasper finally responded; disdain clearly etched on his face. “I assume,” he proceeded, “she will likely renounce her earlier testimony against the other girls and confess her accusations were at your behest and due entirely to your…coupling.” His voice conveyed the smirk he was attempting to hide.

“I would imagine so,” Abraham grimaced and continued. “Therefore, we must guarantee her silence. I will need others to ensure there is no doubt. I assume you have transgressors looking for a way to clear their misdeeds?”

“I shall see to it” Jasper verified. Both men stood and shook hands, as Abraham began to form the plan to ensure his good name and reputation would remain intact.

Within days, word was spreading through the town of Salem that another witch was in their midst. Whispers of spectral visions and evidence of bites and puncture wounds made their way into the homes. When the gossip reached the doorstep of Bridget Brown she was frightened as never before. Many men and women had been hanged for the crime of witchcraft and now here, her sweet Charlotte, would stand accused.

Entering her daughter’s room, Bridget compelled the story from Charlotte, growing increasingly dismayed. Charlotte confessed to having a love affair with Magistrate Graves and providing false testimony against the other girls recently convicted of witchcraft, including Judith Caldwell. She wept as she confessed to her mother that she had found herself with child and had gone to Graves, seeking his affection once more, hoping he would offer to marry her so they could finally share their love openly and raise the child together.

As Charlotte told her story, she began to realize how naïve she had been. As she looked back at her relationship with Abraham, she saw with clarity that which had eluded her before. After their initial innocent interactions in the market or at church, he began to tell her of the plague of witchcraft permeating their small town. She was smitten with him, his honorable position with the courts, the authority he commanded about town. She became enamored with Abraham and only now began to realize the trail he was leading her down, convincing her to testify against the accused. “To add weight to the evidence others were providing” was how he had phrased it. But he said it as he whispered in her ear, after intimate moments while her heart still pounded, and blood pumped from the exertion of their love.

Bridget was no fool. She knew the accusations against her daughter were conceived in the same way her unborn grandchild had been conceived, with malicious intent by Abraham Graves. She said a silent prayer of thanks to the Lord that her late husband, the Reverend Abner Brown, was not here to endure this tragic moment in their family.

Charlotte leaned in and wept, as her mother sat stroking her hair, both grieving for different reasons.

~~~~~~~~

The trial of Charlotte Brown was scheduled and held quickly. News of the prosecution brought many from the town and surrounding area to the courthouse. Word that Charlotte was accusing Magistrate Graves of orchestrating her accusations against others was significant news. If true, it would mean Salem had murdered several of the townsfolk based on lies. If false, it would cause gossip and scandal for days.

Despite Charlotte’s testimony, confessing her statements and performances at earlier trials to be false, there was no shortage of accusers pointing the finger at her for being a witch. Witness after witness testified, and in some cases convulsed, just as she had the day Judith Caldwell was sentenced. Both Abraham Graves and Jasper Hopkins questioned witnesses about Charlotte’s use of witchcraft and her plan to bring down the justice system with her, until Judge Nester struck his gavel with the same significance for her as those before her.

In that moment, it struck Charlotte as bewildering, her testimony today being worth less than the testimony she provided against others. It seemed the testimony was only worthy if it worked in the courts’ favor. The judge and townsfolk believed her when they wanted to persecute others for witchcraft. But now that she sat accused of witchcraft, her words were less valuable than the mud in a pigsty. She knew offering up her intimate relationship with Abraham may add weight to her story, but she felt certain the court and the town would twist that as well. Likely, her supposed witchcraft would be blamed for seducing the upstanding magistrate.

“I have no pity for you”, Judge Nester began, “on this day, sitting in my courtroom, being judged for your wicked and ungodly ways. This town has no place for devil worshipping or witchcraft. I mourn for the daughter your good father Reverend Brown believed he was raising and thank God he is not alive today. For he would feel shame and revulsion at the wretched, wicked woman you have become.”

Charlotte could see the spittle flying from the Judge’s mouth as he devastated her character. Tears pooled in her eyes as thoughts of her father and his disappointment formed in her mind. Nodding her head, she too was grateful her father was no longer alive to see what she had done.

“Charlotte Brown,” Judge Nester took a large breath, the angry crease of his brow getting deeper, “in the administration of justice and by the order of this court, given the testimony and observance of witchcraft here today, you are found guilty of devil worship and the practice of witchcraft and are sentenced to hang in two days’ time.” The hammering of the gavel spurred Charlotte from thoughts of her father’s disappointment to thoughts of her mother’s anguish.

“Do not come to the gallows mother.” Charlotte lifted her chin, wanting to show strength to Bridget despite what was to come. “I love you, but please do not watch me hang.”

Bridget’s only response was to weep as the guards escorted her daughter to the jail.

Once at the jail, Charlotte asked for a spare parchment and quill pen to leave final words for her mother. As the sun began to set, she thought about what to say, knowing nothing would erase the memories of these final days.

~~~~~~~~

“Witch!”

“Devil worshipper!”

“Sinner!”

Spit and insults flew towards Charlotte as the officers of the court walked her to the hill where the gallows lay. Her mind raced as she imagined all the moments in time she would never get to share with her unborn child. She pictured long brown curls bouncing as her daughter ran through corn fields, for surely her child would be a girl. She would have named her Dorothea, because despite all else, this child was a gift from God. She imagined teaching her candle-making and sewing, how to properly milk a cow or how to gather the eggs from the chickens.

“Charlotte Brown, you have been found guilty by the Court of Oyer and Terminer on charges of witchcraft and sentenced to die by hanging on this Sunday, the sixth of July in the year of our Lord, sixteen ninety-two.”

A soft breeze stirred the leaves of the oak trees standing tall and ominous at the top of the hill. The local watchman rolled the parchment back up and placed it on the inside of his coat. Charlotte glanced through the crowd, looking for her mother but could not find her face among the dozens who had gathered to watch. She was not surprised; she had asked her mother not to come.

She recognized most of the people in the crowd from town. These were people she had prayed with, worked with, schooled with. Her eyes travelled towards the hill and found the father of her child, and her accuser, magistrate Abraham Graves. He stood with the other town magistrate Jasper Hopkins. His once gentle gaze was now callous and cold. His small lips creased a fine thin line under his mustache, and she could feel the hatred in his stare. She felt foolish once again, meeting his glare, thinking that he loved her and would be happy with the thought of a child to raise.

Abraham Graves stared at Charlotte as she was escorted up the hill to the gallows. He studied her face as searched the crowd, likely looking for her mother, until their eyes met. His breath slowed as he sought some sign she would speak, accusing him once more in front of the crowd for his treacherous acts. He knew she would not be believed but he had no desire to defend himself now, or for years to come, if she chose to reveal the truth. He was surprised she had chosen not to share news of the child, for it might have saved her life.

Charlotte met Abraham’s gaze and held it. Hands bound in front, she rested them on her stomach, as though protecting her child who would never be born. She lifted her head slightly, refusing to look away, wishing for the first time she knew a spell or two and could cast them before her execution.

~~~~~~~~

Bridget Brown sat staring at the neatly made bed of her daughter’s room. Closing her eyes, she imagined sweet Charlotte there smiling, as if to ignore the hanging taking place mere moments from now. She clutched the parchment to her chest that bore the last words she would ever see or hear from her daughter. Bridget had read the words a hundred times today as she wavered on her choice to attend the execution. Her Charlotte, all she had left after Abner, would soon be hanged and she could not bear to watch.

Mother, I know you will mourn and be woeful for what has come to pass. Fear not, for I know that I will be welcomed into the light and love of our Lord shortly. I only regret you will never know the love and wonder of the child I take with me. I am full of regret for my actions and what has come to pass. I pray you will be safe and not judged by others for the sins I committed or the sins for which I was wrongly accused. Please do not hold vengeance or hatred in your heart for those who falsified their words against me, for I was guilty of this as well.

                                                                                      With all my love, Charlotte