Hello, my name is Israel Hans. I’m second in command of captain Blackbeard’s ship. I don’t know why people call him Periwinkle. My life on this pirate ship is much better than my old life on land. Pirates do not fit in well with the land people. I used to be a thief. I looted taverns and stole from houses. One day I was caught while breaking into a mansion. I had heard that the Governor of Carolina was there staying as a guest. People said he had lots of gold in his room. I picked the lock on the front door and snuck into his room. I had looted from this house before when there was another special guest staying there so I knew the house pretty well. Once I got to the Governor’s room I looked all around. It was full of fancy things, I wanted to take it all but I couldn’t fit it into my bag. Finally I found a chest. I was big and heavy. I couldn’t pick it up so I tried to break the lock. This was no lock I have seen before. It was gold and giant. I was sure that I couldn’t break this lock. I tried and tried until I could hear footsteps. I could feel my heart started to beat. I’ve never been caught before and surely if I got caught I would be executed. I was stealing from the Governor! I looked around for any hiding spots. There was nothing. The footsteps were getting closer. Finally I could hear the door open.

“Ay you! What are you doing! Guards!” said the Governor. The sound of the armor clinking from the guards was getting closer by the second. “Seize him!” yelled the Governor. The guards came at me and grabbed me. I was taken to the jail in the lower town. It was stinky and dark. I was scared I was to be executed in 2 days.

“Ahh!!” Thump. I looked out my jail cell and saw a fearsome man with a beard as black as the night. I felt his presents and I knew who he was, Blackbeard. The most fearsome pirate in the 7 seas. He took the keys from the guard and went over to the cells. “Let’s go me matey’s before the alarm sounds” He said in a voice I had never heard. I had never met a pirate in my 20 years. We all followed him and his crew and ran towards a little row boat. I did not know why he would come here. This place was not a safe place for pirates. If he was found he would be ripped apart and his body parts would be hung all around the city for people to see. I could see the giant Queen Anne’s Revenge on the water. With a crew of over 300 on the ship standing guard with their axes, cutlasses and blunderbusses. I thought what it would be like as a pirate because once I got to that boat I would choose to die or to become a pirate. All those riches that I can get and the gold, it made my mouth water. We got to the boat and went up the ladder on the side. The wood was rough and cold and dark. I looked up at the sails. They were black and the flag was ripped and flying all the way up at the top of the dark spine chilling sails, not like any sail in the whole new world. I looked at the crew. They had scars deeper than the sea and eye patches as dark as a raven. Never had I seen before such a ship.

“Let’s set sail!” Said Blackbeard in that deathlike voice. “You two come with me into my cabin” He was looking at me and the other person saved from jail. We looked at each other I could tell we were both scared. We went to the captain’s cabin and there was Blackbeard. The one and only playing with his black, black beard. “What is your name.” He said

“I’m Israel Hans”

“I’m William Howard” Said the guy next to me. Neither did we know that we would become the 3rd and 2nd in command on Blackbeard’s ship.

A Woman in A Tavern

             When I open my light blue eyes, it is still dark outside. The sun is hiding under the solid earth, waiting for the right moment to resurface. Ever since I was little, my sister and I always believed that at night the sun would go under the earth then come back in the morning because it wanted us to all get a goodnight’s sleep. My sister, Candace, is already up, dressed, and ready to go before I can even sit up in my bed. I slowly push off the silky blue blanket and swing my legs off the bed and rise. I yawn and stretch my arms out wide. Before I can even say good morning to my sister, she is out the door. I swiftly make my way over to the bathing room. I take some of the water from the bucket into my hands and throw it on my face, washing away all the germs and dirt. As the cold water hits my face, I feel refreshed. I change into my work outfit, put my hair up, put on my boots, and head out the door with my messenger bag slung over my right shoulder. The cold, crisp wind hits my face right away. I hear my boots clink and clank as I walk down the cobblestone road. The streets are empty and the only noise I hear is the whistle from the wind. I continue walking down the streets in Williamsburg and feel so happy to be surrounded by such a great town. I can smell the fresh batch of bread just coming out of the oven from the bakery. As I get closer and closer to The Swan Tavern, the sun starts to rise up. I stop dead in my tracks admiring the beautiful sunrise. The dark orange sky gives me a warm feeling inside. My mom, my sister and I always got up early to look at the sunrise when I was younger. I miss her more and more everyday. I look at my watch and it says 6:30. I’m going to be late, I think to myself. I walk as fast as my legs can carry me. Soon I am right in front of The Swan Tavern. I swing the door open and see Candace putting the slaves to work. Jared, the owner, is transferring the tabs from the customers from the previous day into his account book. “Good morning, Jared,” I say. He quickly looks up from his book and stares at me. “Good morning, Prim. How are you this fine morning?” He asked, taking off his tiny round glasses. “I am very good, thank you,” I respond. I walk to the back and set my messenger bag down gently, then start my routine. 

A Working Milliner

Chapter 1:

I feel the soft, light blue silk slipping away in my hands. I hear the door open, and footsteps getting closer. I am a milliner in this fine town of Williamsburg. I work here with one of my greatest friends, makings the best clothing around. Each day, I hear the horses outside clicking away, telling me that today is a new day. I sew with my nimble fingers, making every last stitch perfect. The customers come in and out, asking for special orders. I just love the smile on those people’s faces, when they get their order, and hand me the money. I look forward each time to see those smiles, and make their day. Making an appearance is all about the style of clothing you wear. I make those styles work, and I do work quite a lot. I of course have a star customer, a servant. She comes into my store almost every week, asking new orders for her master. I get many servants doing errands for their master, but I also get middling class folk wanting to get in on the new shipments I have. The servant girl’s master always wants in on the new goodies I have in my store.

Once, I had this customer who was an upper middling class man retrieving something for his wife. He was tall and wore high socks with garters. I’ve had many loyal customers before, but he asks for twenty-five beautiful gowns! That day I was filled with happiness, but I know that I most likely will not get a customer like that again. But I did get a new shipment of silk fabric in today, I love the feel of that smooth material slipping through my fingers. It’s always a pleasure working with it, (in the end). Many fabrics are hard to work with, but always when I’m finished with my creation, I’m proud and I love the results! Bigger gowns and clothing items take a little longer then a simple tunic. Only because there’s a lot more to make with it. I remember when I was a small girl, wanting to work in a millinery. I was an apprentice to another milliner, doing simple things around her shop and learning as much as I could. I also learned arithmetic so I could deal with the money I make, give, and need. At the end of each day I would take out my recording books, and add on from that day’s progress. There’s much to do in the millinery, and it’s my passion to do all that’s needed.

Chapter 2:

I knew that today would come, I’ve been waiting for almost a full month. My hands ache from all the work and affort I put into this creation. My friend helped me as did I with her creation. But this was my project, my time to show who I am. Today is the day that it all stops, the pressure, the stress, the project. My nerves build up inside me, waiting for noon to come, anxiously waiting. I breathe deeply, sucking in as much air as I could. I’m an orderly person, so I had my schedule ready for the day. Please come, please, please come. I thought to myself, knowing they would come, but would they like it? Would my world crash and break down because of the terrible work I’ve down? I put the pressure on myself because on how huge this day is for me. I stare at the door, just waiting for the moment they come through. I walk over to the back room, stalking my product. I glare at it, searching for a hole, a mis-stitch, a rip or a stain! I stop, I run my hand over the beautiful embroidery on the bodice. Everything, looks perfect. I think to myself smiling wide, ear to ear.

Thump… The door! They’re here, I know they’re here. I race to the front of the store eager to see them. I can’t wait to see their faces when…it’s not them. It was just Comfort Wright, my working partner and friend. “Today is the day,” I told her, hoping she would get excited. “Oh, good luck,” she answered in a nice tone. Then she raced to the back like she needed to get something done. I waited too long for this day for these customers not to like this heartfelt beautiful garment I made. These customers are nice gentry class folk that I rarely get. They asked me to make them clothing for a gala that they have that is just a few days away. The are rude, and cocky, and I want to show them that I am not just a simple milliner, but hardworking respected person. They will like it, I will earn their approval, and I will be proud.

The Ticket That Changed My Life

I feel my long brown hair fall down my back and feel the tug of the two braids in my hair, I love waiting by the window for my twin sister Emily to come and talk with me. “Kate!” she yells, I hear her voice echo through the large house, and hear her heels against the hard floor. “I’ve been looking for you in the courtyard” said explained, She was holding something, what could it be? I see the dirty stamped envelope in her pale hands, I know what it is, and there’s two. The letters fall to the ground and we hug with excitement. The letter was not very neat and it was sealed not to well. I grab the letter that says, Kate Burkley. It was from my husband, he is a soldier and is away right now. Letters take weeks to even come, and when they do it makes the wait worth it. Emily and I go down stairs and make tea. The warmth of the cinnamon and the hot milk hits my face and fills the air with warmth. “Kate, we miss our husbands and can barely make a living. Let’s be honest we never worked a day in our lives. I think our best option is to go to the New World and find our husbands,” as the words came out of Emily’s mouth the tea started to taste worse and worse, I knew she was right. “Let’s go to the New World” I said. I can’t let go of our life and it will forever stay in my heart but what is there for me in England? The New World it is. The next morning I packed up all my things and kissed my life in England away. I walked across the grey road, “Emily my dear,” I yelled. I heard nothing. Only a big lavender hat with lace and pearls draped around it dropped from the high white ceilings, and it hit my head and pulled one of the braids out of my hair. “Em!” I started to get annoyed, we were going to miss the next boat. Within 15  minutes of Emily throwing her stuff in a bag, she was done.

Luckily we didn’t live too far from the boardwalk where the boat docks were. After walking for a little bit we reached the part where we got our tickets. As we waited and waited for the boat to come I started to get sad and started to miss my life in England and didn’t know if I was making the right decision. The man that was helping boarded the boat with passengers yelled “ready to board, ready to board.” We got in line and we were ready to get on the boat. One tear dripped down my cheek, it was the only one and the powder for my makeup started to run down into my corset. I gave the man my ticket and kissed England goodbye and Emily and I got on the boat and the adventure began there.

I

Today, was the same as yesterday. I got up, felt a mouse at my feet quickly killed it and ate it as a small breakfast. I was the first one in my tent up, the other 6 still sleeping with the snakes and mice, my brother . I quickly reported to the officer (my brother) and asked what time it was. He pulled out a pocket watch and said it was 7:00 o’clock. I then asked if it would be ok to go and chop some firewood, and the captain (like always) said sure. I went to the surgeon, got some more bug cream, which by now I have gotten used to the stench of pig fat and oil. In the woods it’s quite peaceful, and you can sometimes think a little. We are out in yorktown, it’s late September, so I am a little cold in my work shirt. I cut down a small tree and decide that I should get back to camp. In camp I drop off the wood and went back to my tent to see everyone gone, not surprising. I went to my friends tent, he’s a late sleeper. When I got there I saw him sleeping, I chuckled a little and went over to wake him up. I got to him and shook him, nothing happened, I shook harder, nothing and I could feel my smile melt away. I kept on shaking him harder and harder wait hoping that there would be a response, and finally when I had the courage to put holding in my tears, looking at his closed eyes. After what felt like forever I got up and told the captain. He said he would do his best to get him a proper burial, but I knew he wouldn’t get one.

II

“The continental army” my dad said “*cough, cough*, your really should join you brother in the *cough* continental army”. I looked up at my dad, sick poor dying and decided that maybe I should. “If I do join the army” I said “no one can look after you”. My dad looked me in the eye and said, “I will be fine”. That was three weeks ago, I have joined a militia and after weeks of drills, commands and ranks we’re finally being put into the battlefield. The journey to war was awful. We were traveling to New York to defend it. The trip was endless, we marched rested marched set up camp tried to sleep, got up and marched more. The Higher officers were riding horses at the front not tiring, just looking ahead and I thought how could they do that. After weeks of marching we reached New York, and I quickly got assigned a post on Staten Island. This was the worst assignment possible. There were very few people here, everyone was sad, the militias didn’t like us that much and of course the condition was awful. I was sleeping with no straw a luxury I missed dearly and rock, no blankets or pillows just rocks. One day in summer the british began arriving and that is when things got alarming. Everyone rushed to posts panicking grabbing guns, and nothing happened. In less than a week the british were reinforced and we knew that we were desperately outnumbered. The british were beginning to board small ships, what was happening! We were running into our ranks to get ready and then BAM! The local militias were firing at us! We were panicking rushing dying all just trying to get back to the rest of the army. I was the only person in my tent of 6 that survived, the rest were shot and either died or were taken prisoner. On the small ships I knew we weren’t safe, there were still bullets flying past our ears, but also we were running to manhattan where their was bound to be an invasion. Next to me sat my only friend, Thomas. Thomas was a normal soldier nothing special, just like me. It was only 1 minute on the ships before he was shot. He got shot in the back of the shoulder and had to endure the agony for what felt like ages before we made it to Manhattan, and by then he wasn’t going to make it.

A Day In The Life Of Comfort Wright

Oh dear, I’m late! I must get those orders done or else the customers would be extremely angry at me. I should introduce myself. I am Comfort Wright and I am a middling class milliner. I am twenty three and I work with my close friend Phoebe Williams who is twenty four.

I walk inside our shop, which is in Williamsburg and I see Phoebe sewing a woman’s gown. I instantly join her and I start to finish up a man’s waistcoat. Our store doesn’t open until eight o’ clock. That means we have two hours to finish these orders. We usually spend most of our morning and nights sewing people’s clothing. Sewing takes time, but I really do enjoy it because it is a big hobby of mine. I happen to love everything about it. I adore the way clothing looks and the way it’s made, it’s just a wonderful process! It is now eight o’clock and we just finished our last outfit.

“Splendid!” I announce.

“Indeed,” Phoebe replied.

Our first customer has walked into our shop. I hear the footsteps of a women. The sound of her heels indicate that she is probably in the gentry class. Her dress is grand, blue, and embroidered with small flowers. She was absolutely stunning and her posture, oh her posture was marvelous! Oh how I wish I could be like her. I must get this lady’s order. “Welcome,” I say politely.

“Good morning. I would like a new petticoat.” She mentioned while showing me what fabric she would like it to be. “ I will be back in a couple of days.” She exclaims.

“Of course, let me measure your body.” I say while nodding my head. I walk her over to the side of the shop and I grab measuring tape. I look back at the elegant lady, her posture was still straight as a pencil. I measure her body and try to be as gentle as I possibly can. Then I write down her measurements and she exits the shop with a touch of class. I look over and see Phoebe with a middling class customer and I let her be. I simply walk behind the wooden counter and I start to plan out the lady’s petticoat. I take out the special fabric that the lady asked her petticoat to be made out of, silk. I bring the silk over to a table in the back. It’s soft, and it feels incredible when I brush my hand against it. I’m amazed by silk. The way it feels is spectacular, but I couldn’t possibly wear it because I can’t afford it. More and more customers walk in and out of the millinery shop.

The day is coming towards and end. I make sure everything it is ready to be sewn. When I have the chance I start to sew everything together. By the end of the day, Phoebe and I are exhausted. We are usually tired after every sewing day because there is a lot of work to be done. Hand sewing is very tiresome. Every day Phoebe and I do the same routine. We take a quick break and then get back to working. We do have an apprentice, but she wasn’t working today. Our milliner shop is well known by many people in the gentry class, middling class and lower class. As the day comes to an end, Phoebe and I wrap up our thread and make sure all of our fabric is organized. We gradually walk out of the door and go home. Then we get ready for the next day at the milliner shop.

I just got off the boat from Europe, what a ride I must say. It was terrible, I could get no work done and the food was gross.

When I get to Williamsburg I will get down to work and solve the scientific problems of this new land. When I really think about what problems would people want me to solve, most people look at me with disgust and think of me as something evil because I have turned my back on religion. I am just one of many people in this revolution of science against superstition. So when I look back on the decisions I have made I think that changing from religion to science could only benefit me. The less educated of the people are sticking to their religious beliefs even when they are proved wrong or seem impossible. While I respect religion it really has no meaning to my life any more and I feel better than ever.

Onto a new topic. One day while I was minding my own business on the boat I saw somebody go overboard and die. The person that died, had no importance to my life, but I still wondered what he would be remembered for. Then that got me thinking about my own life and what I would be remembered for, nothing. Nobody in the world that knows me will remember me for something great. They would never say, “oh that sir James Irving, what a genius,” because I have not done anything to be remembered for. That is why I have made my life’s purpose to be about being remembered for something great, like the telescope or having made new and important observations. But really when I think about what I want to be remembered for nothing comes to me, maybe my life’s purpose was just to help start a scientific revolution. That isn’t something I will be remembered for because as I said I am just one of many educated Europeans making the transition from superstition to scientific reasoning.

After a week in Williamsburg I have became depressed. The reason for this feeling is because I can’t come up with anything to do which upsets me so. But I still believe in myself to do something great and be remembered like Galileo one of my idols. I like the lifestyle of this new world with all the meat and food but as life becomes less purposeful my mind sways back and forth between enjoyment and suicide.

After a year of living in Williamsburg I think I’ve finally got an idea. What if there were a measurement tool about 3 feet long and was marked with inches. Then people could easily measure things that took hours to measure before. I know my idea can make it I just need to find out a way to build because I have barely enough money to buy food. I think that I will have to steal wood to make this tool and then sell it to carpenters and blacksmiths and anybody willing to buy it, but most of all I will be remembered as the man who made the 3 foot long stick.

I am on my way to steal wood from a carpenter’s house for my invention I hope he doesn’t catch me. I have only seen theater productions of such actions, but never in my life have I tried to steal that would have been un holy. Now that I am out of god’s wrath and not one of his people he has no control over what I do so I am going to steal wood from the carpenter’s house. At the moment I can feel the wet grass against my skin. The smell of the carpenter’s supper is invading my nose, but I must go on. I finally see it, there are about 250 pieces of wood. For now I will only take 5. Then I hear a door swing open and I hide in the shed. 

Chapter 2

I have now sold over 200 of the sticks, and I now live out on a farm where I own 30 slaves, not many but they will do. I am one of the few farmers that doesn’t grow tobacco because I know the bad effects so instead I grow good food and live well. I now know and taste the sweet taste of venison. I now am rich and don’t need to see those hallucinations that hunger gives you. I still don’t like religion, it is false and no use to survival. I am now moving on to different sciences such as astronomy and botany.

On my farm there is a section for experimenting, and using a telescope to look into the sky. I am now one of the leaders of the enlightenment which is now a serious competition. I will never go back to religion, because if I hadn’t chose science I would not be rich and enjoying life, just the poor aspiring scientist.

Tonight in the year 1686 I saw Halley’s comet. I thought to myself, My life is now what I always hoped for, I saw a comet, and I will be remembered as the man who made the meter stick.

My profit has grown from those sticks I have now sold over ten thousand of them. I now live on a 200 acre farm and own 300 slaves. I feel as though they hate me, when I walk by them give me dirty stares and hold up their knives, that they use to cut the weeds. I have never beaten a slave, because scientist listen to other ideas, but they must feel differently.

I am now the most known scientist in America, when people see me they  stop and say, “Look it’s James Irving the  naturalist.” In a way I feel as though I have completed my life’s goal of being remembered as a scientist. I have created this new thing called hybridization, the act of discovering new plants. I put different plants seeds and leaves together and discover a new plant. People call me a naturalist, because I have given up my measurement studies and moved on to botany a natural study.

The enlightenment has grown and gotten stronger while I have aged and gotten weaker. People look to me for answers that I have no knowledge of anymore because I have become useless and practically stupid. People always come to me asking, “What is hybridization? I want to know how to do it so I can join the enlightenment.” The only thing I can say to them is I don’t remember, it has been 40 years since I have done an experiment, but I am still a strong believer in the scientific revolution.

Religion is trying to fight back, the way I know this, is some protestants attacked my house with rocks yesterday and then ran off yelling “die you old useless, vulgar, un holy man.” But that doesn’t worry me because I know that when my last breath is gone people will remember for empowering a revolution and being a important and great scientist.

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF A COLONIAL GUNSMITH 

Today I woke up with the sun creeping around the edges of the curtains, I dress in my shirt, slacks and a leather vest. I walk down the stairs to see my wife Abby making food that will be my breakfast. Then I walk out the door and walk down the street until I reach the Gunsmith where I work.

When I get there my brother John Bentley calls out “James, ready to work?”

Yes my name is James, James Bently and I am 31, I have seven children but they have already moved away. I set to work on a gun that I have been working on for a few days, it was damaged by a soldier in combat fighting with his bayonet, I have replaced many of the missing parts and straightened the bent barrel. Soon I will finish on the matchlock and I will be done, I polish off the last remaining pieces of metal and the gun looks like it is new. I run my hand over the smooth edge of the barrel and feel the trigger. I slip gun powder and a one-ounce 75 caliber led musket ball into the top of the barrel, then jam it down, I cock, and fire. A puff of smoke comes up and I can smell the acrid smell of the gunpowder in my face and as the smoke clears I see that I have hit my mark and the musket works perfectly. The man who owns the gun is a lieutenant and if I remember correctly he will get very angry if his gun is not in perfect shape.

John is out back sharpening some tools to smooth the wood on a rifle that is getting worn out. I take a look at the rifle he is working on, staring down the barrel to see the spiraling grooves that make the bullet shoot much more accurately than the muskets. But the muskets have different uses, the rifles have better aim but they are very expensive and the muskets are cheap but lacking in aim.

I think about our dad, he was almost never around always away doing work for the continental army and one day he was dropped off in front of the door with a bullet through his head, the dried blood smeared over his body. Mother cried for many days and a few months later she died of an unknown sickness, that is very common around here in these times.

I stare at my brother and it makes me angry. Maybe eight years ago when he was only 15 there was an Indian massacre, many people died but my brother was out hunting and as he ran back to the village the Indians captured him and all of the deer that he was carrying over his shoulders. I didn’t see him for another three months until he finally escaped their grounds and made it into the village. He was a different man, in the Indian camps he learned how to shoot bows and arrows and even some farming techniques. But the next morning John woke up ready for his first day at the gunsmiths in three months.

I walk up to the front counter and there is lieutenant Adams telling me to get his Musket out and over the counter, I reach down and put it out in front of him. Just as I did he runs his fingers over the smooth wooden frame and then asks for some gunpowder and a musket ball. He loads the gun and I lead him out to the back where he shoots at the small wooden board that we use as a target, the lead ball misses by inches but when using a musket that is not surprising. He gives me a wink and we walk up to the front where I told him “three gold pieces.”

Lieutenant Adams pays and walks away, then he looks back and tosses me a small silver piece.

Hunting

By Yannik F.

Chapter one

Today I woke up and saw a herd of deer passing by. I picked up my musket and fired twice before they passed. My old musket was falling apart every trip. I could never get close enough to shoot because they could smell my rope from a mile away. If you have not guessed, I am a hunter. I am a middle class hunter who lives on my father’s farm. My father passed away a couple years ago, he was a hunter too, so I decided to take over his shop when he passed. I have been saving up for many years to buy a rifle at the Gunsmith, and now I have enough to buy one. This gun was expensive, even too expensive for soldiers to own, but now I have one. I’m taking it out for its first firing tomorrow because I don’t want to waste the lead today. This gun is the best hunting weapon, it shoot much more accurate than a musket but it is much heavier.

I wake up and head to my small hiding place in the woods and wait, I wait and wait for any animal to arrive, then it appears. A large deer about 30 yards away is eating some berries, I slowly and quietly pull back the trigger and fire. I hit the deer and run over, I pull out my knife expecting to have to finish it off, but I don’t. It is already dead. I hit it right in the back of the head, my first headshot of the season. I skin and clean the deer there and bring it back to my shop. I keep the fur to make a strap and sell the meat to the butcher. My shop smells like raw flesh but it was worth the money. I have been making my father’s shop larger than ever, I’ve been trading beaver fur and selling meat and other fur. I am thinking about how proud he would have been of me. I have never met my mother, she fled when I was a baby. She might be still alive, but I will never know.

Chapter two

I’ve been captured… I’ve been captured by the indians. I was hunting on their land and they took me in. They have me tied up and they want me to talk to their leader. Their leader asks me why I was on their land. I told him I was only hunting and I lost track of where I was. I had a couple rabbits and beaver fur with me so I traded that for my release. I saw how many animals they caught and asked “Is that just from today?” The Leader replied “Yes,” I asked how they got so many animals and they said they used very accurate bows and a trap called a snare. I have never heard of a snare before, but it looked like it was very successful. I asked them If they could teach me how to make these things, they said yes. I came back to the village the next day and saw the large yet light longbow. Before they taught me how to make it they taught me how to shoot. They told me I would need lots of practice because children start at very young ages and are still not very good. I took many shots and they did not go far or where I wanted them to go. Days and weeks went by and I soon became very good a shooting. They taught me how to make it, you would find a 6 to 7 foot branch and whittle out the ends. You would do this until the wood it very flexible. The string was just tied to the ends.

I have been wondering about the snare for many weeks, I kept seeing it but never knew what it did. They finally started teaching me about the snare. I did really need to do anything besides make it and check it. It was easy but complicated to make but it was very effective. I started to make bows of my own and set a couple snares out near my house. Soon I had double the amount of meat and fur than I did before. My shop was filled with meat and fur, I never had this much. One morning I was checking the snares and found a bear. I had never caught a bear in a snare before and I did not know what to do. I had my knife but it was too ferocious to get close. I went back to my house to get a gun and when I went back with my rifle it was gone. This was very bad because bear was very expensive and this was a big one. I looked around and saw it. It was trapped in one of my other snares. I shot it twice brought it back to my shop. 

In Our Field

My arm wrapped around my husband, his warm winter coat scratches my arm but I don’t mind I am too nervous to care. We are sitting in the back of the capital right in the middle of Williamsburg. The bottom of my worn dress brushes against the hard wooden seats in the back of the courtroom. The large circular windows let little bits of warm light into the cold candle lit space. The wooden gate that would separate us from the witch wasn’t thick enough. Through the doors in the back of the rich room you could hear all the fussing around, it made me even more nervous. Two big men come out of the large fancy doors with huge muskets in their arms.

“All rise for the judge,” the larger man said banging his gun on to the ground making the whole room shake. I force my wobbly legs to stand for the judge as he comes in, still clinging on to me husband for extra support. He enters the room as if he was so used to all the attention that it was like breathing for him. His shoes clunk on the creaky wood and eco all the way down the room. Each clunk silences one more person that was whispering to the next. His dry, cracked hands, hit the wooden gate and open it carefully.  He turns to the left of the semi circle that the officials sit at. The stiff white men get even stiffer as he walks by them. The judge sits down and raises one hand swiftly. Everyone then takes their seats and all at once the benches and wooden chairs creak and squeak.  An even quieter hush falls over the crowd, this time the quietness is more severe. Through the gate you could see a small wooden table that the attorney had set up. The attorney was a thinner man, not as thin as me or my husband though. His face is as proud as if he had already won the trial, he hadn’t yet but we all knew he would. The fussing behind the door grew even louder, I could feel the witch approaching us. the doors burst open with two more men holding a woman back. She looked frightened, scared, and stressed. She knew as well as attorney did that she wasn’t going to win this trial, unlike times before. She looks around the room making eye contact with every person she can, she knows she must make some people feel guilty for her to have even the slightest chance to win. My head stays down she can’t distract me, she can’t make me change my mind, she is a witch a horrible terrible witch. as I look down at my feet, I close my eyes and remember when I saw her dancing in the field.

It was a cool spring day, about a week ago, and I was outside taking a little stroll through the little property we have. My husband at work, my sons at work too. Me, being as clumsy as I am trip over my long dress. You would think I would be pretty good at walking in the stiff clothes after 25 years of practice, but I’m not. The tip of my shoe catches the end of the dress and I fall onto the cobblestone steps. I put one hand down onto the cool stone helping myself up. Picking the dress up slowly so that I could stand up easier I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. A man, no a woman on my field wearing men’s clothing. A gize of light in front of her, she dances around a fire as if no one was watching her. But I was, I saw. My husband had said that he had experienced and seen this same thing before, of course at the time I thought he was going mad, as if I was going to believe that a woman was in men’s clothing dancing on our field. We have always thought that this woman was a little bit strange, a widow, strange marks on her arms and face, but now we had confirmed this she was most definitely a witch.  

I’m interrupted from my train of thought. It’s my husband tapping me on the shoulder he leans over and whispers into my ear,“It’s time,” he says. I know what this means, we must go explain these terrible sightings to the judge and all his people. He guides me with the same scratchy coat up to the same wooden gate. I take a deep breath in, and let it out. The attorney motions for me to begin my conviction and I do, “It was a cool spring, about a week ago…