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Grete And Anne

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“What did you do?”

“The only thing I could think of. I went back to my father. But he wasn’t so happy to see me again. So I went to a place called Erpent, some miles away across the Meuse and not that far from Namur. I got work there as a cow girl for a farmer called Lawrence Streignart. He was someone I vaguely knew from my time in Liège. He had a bad reputation as a person with a shady character, suspected of heresy. I should have known better I suppose, but I had to live somewhere and make money somehow. Anyway, as you can imagine, people began to talk. They gossiped when I went into the village to sell milk. I could see them hiding their faces and pointing at me and saying lewd things. Everyone knew about the burnings in Liège and they said I was a witch too and should have been burned with the others. It got worse and worse. Lawrence told me to ignore it all, but I knew now I couldn’t be sure or trust anyone. He was alright with me. Sometimes he was rough if he was tired or hungry and he could get angry. He made me do some things I didn’t like sometimes. But at least I had somewhere.”

“What did he do Anne?”

“Oh not so much. He wanted me to play in his games. He would light a fire and throw things onto it that glowed green and red and he liked me to lie naked by the fire spread out like an eagle and he would pour ointments on me and mumble. He was strange sometimes. He would have me lie on my belly and would force himself into me. I was just a doll for him I think. But mostly he left me alone. I didn’t want to stay forever, but in the end I had no choice about what happened. The gossip grew worse and came to the ears of the authorities. One day they came for me under the orders of the Mayor of Warêt and they took me away in a cart to my old village and locked me in the gaol there. It was a spring day but hot and the road was already dusty. I remember so well how blue the sky seemed and how silent the fields were. The trees seemed to be still and heavy in their leaf. Even the birds were silent. They took me to the gaol. They were not harsh, but they chained me in and locked the iron door behind me. I had just a little light through the window high in the stone wall. The floor was earth and cold. There was just some straw to make my bed on. I just sat there and waited. I think they forgot about me Grete, I really do. I was still just a nobody and when I was locked away and out of sight they just forgot me. I was there in the gaol all summer. Every day they would bring me something to eat, just bread and broth. And a pitcher of water. But that was all. I had no-one to speak to but the saints and the ghosts. My eyes grew dim in the dark and my limbs weak. It was a lonely time.”

“How long did they keep you there Anne?”

“They had accused me of heresy, this they told me. And they had appointed a prosecutor from Namur. He was called Martin and in September he came at last and they started their examination. It was amicable at first, they just asked questions of me. They talked to me like I was a silly little girl. I told them honestly what had happened in Liège and that I had been made to do things there and in Erpent but that I didn’t believe in it all and that I just did things because I had no choice. After all, I was just a girl in service. But they were not satisfied and they decided to get more testimony from Liège and from other people who they said had evidence against me. Then they locked me away again. I became very afraid and sad, Grete.

In October they came back to me and laid in front of me the various charges. They said that in the interrogation of Laurent and Christiane, they had received testimonies from a Jose Gaspar and his accomplice which accused me of the worst depravities and theft and sorcery. I knew that some things were true, but that some were made up and could only have been spoken under the tortures. Then a few days later other witnesses charges were laid, from two women in Erpent who accused me of being a witch with an evil reputation. One said she had been sick and that I had made her bewitched pancakes that made her vomit and then feel better. The second said she had received my confidence and that I had made small talk about the Sabbath and evil powers and that I had cured children by removing a secret charm I had placed on them but had also killed a child near Warêt. All these allegations I protested as I knew them not to be true. But that was not enough now for the authorities and they decided that I should be sent to Namur. And a few weeks later, after they had secured me in the cells in Namur the Provincial Council made a decree of torture “so that they might know further the crimes of the defendant” they said. That was me, Grete. I was the defendant and now they meant to torture me. I recalled the terrible story about Christiane and her suffering and pain and how she had cried and I sat in my chains and I cried to Grete. I knew I had no life left and that my body was now theirs alone. They were to torture me. I was afraid and so lonely.”
 
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“But Grete, I think they tortured you too didn’t they? What did they do to you? You had almost begun to tell me I think.”

“Yes, they did. They tortured us both didn’t they sweet Anne? Why did they do it Anne? I think often of their eyes, their mouths. I think of them pulling the clothes from me and holding me naked before the judge and the prosecutor. Sometimes I think they were ashamed. I could have been their daughter. Sometimes I saw their eyes glint and I knew they took a pleasure in possessing my flesh and looking at my young body. They liked to see me stretched and see the tears on my face. I saw how they looked when I recoiled from the whip and the irons. They took pleasure in having what they could never win and hurting it so badly. I think they cared nothing for me at all, but they hated my body and my face and my beauty and they wanted me to suffer for being there for them to see but not to have. But that’s maybe just what I thought. And the things I thought didn’t matter in the end, because they had power and I had nothing. Do you understand what I am saying Anne?”

“I…I’m not sure Grete. I think that I do. I think that is how it seemed sometimes to me. But then I was so young, Grete and I knew so little and my body was so weary after those months in chains in the dark cells. But tell me how it was for you Grete.”

“Well, it was all so fast. They pulled me from where I slept in the snow and dragged me to a horse and tied me to the bridle and we walked through the snow to Tangermünde. They told me along the way that they had arrested Tönnies the previous day for theft. They had threatened him with torture and execution but he had testified to them that I had set the fire in the town to revenge myself on them for stealing my inheritance. They told me that he would be whipped and released but that now I would be questioned under torture. They told me that they had wanted to find the fire-setter for two long years and that there would be no forgiveness and that if I was wise I would confess now and save them the bother of putting me to the question, for as surely as the sun rises in the morning I would confess and would be put to death. I remember my feet in the snow as we went towards the city. My shoes pulled off and my feet became raw and red and cold. My wrists were cut by the chains that held me to the horse’s bridle. I remember thinking that this pain would be as nothing compared to the tortures they would make me suffer but that I had to be strong and not confess to something I had never done. I thought that the truth would be my strength, but I was wrong Anne. Very very wrong.”
 
“So now we are both in the same place I think Grete. We are both in our cells stripped of our clothes. We are both fixed to the stone wall by chains and iron collars. We are both cold and afraid and anticipating what is to come without really knowing. I’m so glad I’m here with you now Grete, it’s good to be with someone who understands. No-one could understand could they, if they hadn’t been there? Shall I tell you about my first torture then Grete? I told you something earlier I think, but now I recall that wasn’t the first. I was confused I think. They tortured me many times Grete. Did they do the same to you?”

“No Anne. They had made their minds up about me. They just needed a confession to a single act. To lighting a fire. They knew that would be easy for them, although I didn’t. I thought I could stay with the truth, whatever that is, but I was mistaken. They just needed one day and one night with me Anne. So yes, you start. You have more to tell, I think.”

“Alright. I will tell you. It makes me feel better to talk to you about my tortures Grete, because you understand. So, I had to wait til the dead of winter before they began. I had to wait for the days to become short and the cells to become colder and colder. It was a December day when they came for me and unlocked my chains. I remember how I stared at them when they told me that it was time for the question. They looked down at me in my nakedness. I think that I could not have looked beautiful anymore. My red hair was long and matted and my body was dirty and there were sores on my skin. They pulled me up and took me along a corridor. I remember the torches flickering against the stones. I remember iron doors opening and slamming and hearing other people moaning in dark cells. They took me into a chamber which had no windows. At one end was a table covered in a rich tapestry and behind that was a golden cross, fixed on the wall. The prosecutor was there and there was a judge in a thick fur robe. I stood before them. I felt ashamed and tried to cover myself. I stared at my feet. They were dirty, I remember that. My ankles had the chains on them still. They left them on at first.

The prosecutor asked me questions about my time in Liège. He told me that they had all the evidence they needed against me but that they wanted to know the names of my accomplices. It was as if they thought I had run things, but I was just the poor servant girl. Didn’t they understand, I thought? Then he told me to turn around and look at the instruments in the room. He explained them to me. How they would pull my limbs from me and how the irons could be heated and worked over my body. He told me about the water cure that I have mentioned to you before. He told me that I was a young, pretty thing and it would be a shame to have to hurt me so terribly and that if I told them something then I could go straight back to my cell. I looked at my feet and wanted to be able to say something, but I couldn’t Grete! I really didn’t know anything. I tried to explain to them but they said that the Devil was holding my tongue and that only pain would loosen it, and that I should be put to the question. So I knew now that they would torture me for sure.

The torturer came to me. He had a black mask on so I couldn’t see his face. He told me he was sorry for what he had to do. I thought that was nice of him. Then he took my hands very fast, before I could do anything and bound them behind my back. He let a rope down from the ceiling and hooked it onto the ropes around my wrists, then gave a signal and his accomplice hauled on a great wheel. I felt my arms rising behind me, and my body was arched over as they pulled. My face was staring at the ground. I could feel my chest constricting as my arms were pulled further and further back. Then they paused and asked me the questions again. It was quite hard to answer now, but I had nothing to say, so they turned the wheel some more and I felt my feet being lifted from the ground til only my toes touched the ground, they I was in the air. My arms burned in pain and I thought my shoulders would be pulled apart. It was awful. My hair fell over my face and all I could see was my hair and my feet. My toes curled and twisted. They pulled me higher until I was right in the ceiling. I remember crying out and saying that they couldn’t do this or leave me like this. Eventually they lowered me until I could fall onto the floor. It hurt me so much Grete, I can’t say. But before I could recover at all they hauled me up again and they did this three times, but I could say nothing. I think I must have fainted then, because I remember the torturer holding me up and giving me a small tumbler of wine to drink. I think that was to revive me. Anyway, I was in such pain all I could do was mutter and gasp.

The prosecutor said I was being very stupid and that I should tell them what I knew. But what could I do Grete? But also, deep inside me, it pleased me that they thought I knew something important, even if I didn’t. He said they would hurt me some more and they showed me a whip with many strands that they were going to use on me. This time the torturer retied my arms so that my hands were in front of me, and they lifted me again into the air. I remember the first blow of the whip, Grete. It was hot and it cut across my shoulders and wrapped around me and knocked the breath from me but I also found it exciting. The first blow, anyway. I grew warm inside somehow. But they didn’t stop and soon I had forgotten all of that and my mind was just awash with pain and when I looked down I could see my breasts were covered in blood that ran down me and down my legs and between my legs. I remember how my teeth chattered.

Eventually they stopped and they said that they had done enough for the day. I was wrecked and just lay gasping on the floor. I could barely raise my head. They took me back to the cell and chained me again and left me there with just some water to drink and a piece of barley bread. Then they went. That was my first torture Grete.”
 
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pkindenhaag said:
“So now we are both in the same place I think Grete. We are both in our cells stripped of our clothes. We are both fixed to the stone wall by chains and iron collars. We are both cold and afraid and anticipating what is to come without really knowing. I’m so glad I’m here with you now Grete, it’s good to be with someone who understands. No-one could understand could they, if they hadn’t been there? Shall I tell you about my first torture then Grete? I told you something earlier I think, but now I recall that wasn’t the first. I was confused I think. They tortured me many times Grete. Did they do the same to you?”

“No Anne. They had made their minds up about me. They just needed a confession to a single act. To lighting a fire. They knew that would be easy for them, although I didn’t. I thought I could stay with the truth, whatever that is, but I was mistaken. They just needed one night with me Anne. So yes, you start. You have more to tell, I think.”

“Alright. I will tell you. It makes me feel better to talk to you about my tortures Grete, because you understand. So, I had to wait til the dead of winter before they began. I had to wait for the days to become short and the cells to become colder and colder. It was a December day when they came for me and unlocked my chains. I remember how I stared at them when they told me that it was time for the question. They looked down at me in my nakedness. I think that I could not have looked beautiful anymore. My red hair was long and matted and my body was dirty and there were sores on my skin. They pulled me up and took me along a corridor. I remember the torches flickering against the stones. I remember iron doors opening and slamming and hearing other people moaning in dark cells. They took me into a chamber which had no windows. At one end was a table covered in a rich tapestry and behind that was a golden cross, fixed on the wall. The prosecutor was there and there was a judge in a thick fur robe. I stood before them. I felt ashamed and tried to cover myself. I stared at my feet. They were dirty, I remember that. My ankles had the chains on them still. They left them on at first.

The prosecutor asked me questions about my time in Liège. He told me that they had all the evidence they needed against me but that they wanted to know the names of my accomplices. It was as if they thought I had run things, but I was just the poor servant girl. Didn’t they understand, I thought? Then he told me to turn around and look at the instruments in the room. He explained them to me. How they would pull my limbs from me and how the irons could be heated and worked over my body. He told me about the water cure that I have mentioned to you before. He told me that I was a young, pretty thing and it would be a shame to have to hurt me so terribly and that if I told them something then I could go straight back to my cell. I looked at my feet and wanted to be able to say something, but I couldn’t Grete! I really didn’t know anything. I tried to explain to them but they said that the Devil was holding my tongue and that only pain would loosen it, and that I should be put to the question. So I knew now that they would torture me for sure.

The torturer came to me. He had a black mask on so I couldn’t see his face. He told me he was sorry for what he had to do. I thought that was nice of him. Then he took my hands very fast, before I could do anything and bound them behind my back. He let a rope down from the ceiling and hooked it onto the ropes around my wrists, then gave a signal and his accomplice hauled on a great wheel. I felt my arms rising behind me, and my body was arched over as they pulled. My face was staring at the ground. I could feel my chest constricting as my arms were pulled further and further back. Then they paused and asked me the questions again. It was quite hard to answer now, but I had nothing to say, so they turned the wheel some more and I felt my feet being lifted from the ground til only my toes touched the ground, they I was in the air. My arms burned in pain and I thought my shoulders would be pulled apart. It was awful. My hair fell over my face and all I could see was my hair and my feet. My toes curled and twisted. They pulled me higher until I was right in the ceiling. I remember crying out and saying that they couldn’t do this or leave me like this. Eventually they lowered me until I could fall onto the floor. It hurt me so much Grete, I can’t say. But before I could recover at all they hauled me up again and they did this three times, but I could say nothing. I think I must have fainted then, because I remember the torturer holding me up and giving me a small tumbler of wine to drink. I think that was to revive me. Anyway, I was in such pain all I could do was mutter and gasp.

The prosecutor said I was being very stupid and that I should tell them what I knew. But what could I do Grete? But also, deep inside me, it pleased me that they thought I knew something important, even if I didn’t. He said they would hurt me some more and they showed me a whip with many strands that they were going to use on me. This time the torturer retied my arms so that my hands were in front of me, and they lifted me again into the air. I remember the first blow of the whip, Grete. It was hot and it cut across my shoulders and wrapped around me and knocked the breath from me but I also found it exciting. The first blow, anyway. I grew warm inside somehow. But they didn’t stop and soon I had forgotten all of that and my mind was just awash with pain and when I looked down I could see my breasts were covered in blood that ran down me and down my legs and between my legs. I remember how my teeth chattered.

Eventually they stopped and they said that they had done enough for the day. I was wrecked and just lay gasping on the floor. I could barely raise my head. They took me back to the cell and chained me again and left me there with just some water to drink and a piece of barley bread. Then they went. That was my first torture Grete.”
Click to expand...

You are being very productive PK....great writing...I love this story!!!!
 
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“They did the same things to me Anne. I think that there must be just one torture manual that they all share! They took me straight to the torture chamber in the basement of the Rathaus and it was very much as you describe the one in Namur. But there was a window and the sun slanted in across the room. It was so odd to see the light of the sun as they tortured me. Sometimes the shadows of the window bars would roll over my body as they tugged me into the air. I looked at those shadows as I swung there by my wrists in all that pain and wondered if I would ever see the sun again as I had in the past, as I walked by the riverside or strolled in the summer meadows. I could almost smell the newly cut grass in my imagination. And then they dropped me so suddenly and my entire body was torn apart by the agony! I am sure that they could hear my screams outside in the square. They all knew I was in there, I know. I was sure that there would be a crowd outside in the snow, waiting to hear the cries of Grete as she was tortured. I could imagine them there laughing in the snow, under the wintry sun. And then I would come around and I saw myself stretched out naked on the stone slabs and they pulled on my arms until my shoulders clicked back into their sockets. I screamed so loud when that happened Anne, and my whole body was soaked in sweat and my dark hair stuck to me. And then they did it again. I thought I would die. But I wanted to hold on to the truth as long as I could. That was all I could do Anne.”

“I think you were being very brave Grete. You knew that they would just make the pain worse, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know Anne. I don’t think I was being brave at all. I just wanted to….to not let them win. I knew they would win, but I didn’t want to surrender. I wanted them to tear their lies from me. They would have to tear me apart to find their lies. And they did Anne, they did. But now I am nearly finished and… Anne, your story never seems to end! Tell me more about Namur. Did they just leave you in your cell? Did they forget about you again?”
 
“Oh, they were always forgetting me Grete! I was nobody, remember? Who can remember a nobody? I only became a somebody when they wanted something from me, but then I had nothing to tell. I only became important when they tortured me. I began to realize this. Are we forgotten here Grete? It seems that lots of people come but they just seem to wander past us as if they can’t even see us. I don’t understand where we are Grete. Do you? I know I am asking a lot of questions, but you’ve been here longer haven’t you? Why is it that these other people just drift past us as they arrive?”

“It’s a strange place Anne, but this is our home now. And it will be forever. I had to wait for you remember. I saw many come and go and pass me without speaking. At first I would shout out to them, but then I understood that they couldn’t hear me. They moved on and wandered in the grey space beyond here. I had to wait for you before I had someone to speak to. They are looking for their others. Those who have an experience to share. That is why I had to wait for you. But don’t worry. We have each other now and we can be together forever. Does that frighten you Anne? Being with me forever? We will never grow any older Anne. We will stay just as we are. Every day, whatever a day is here. I will be with you always. And you with me.”
 
“I think I will like that Grete. I feel at home with you. It feels like you are the person I have always wanted to find. Is that strange? That it should take all the terrible things we have both been through to find you here in this strange place? It seems strange to me. But let me tell you what happened next. December went by and I lost count of the days in my dark cell, but they sometimes told me. I lay there on my dirty straw and just waited. I knew that they would come back. My wounds slowly healed but my body was dirty and scarred and my skin was becoming grey. It was February when they came for me and took me back to the torture room. They tied me with my arms outspread and my legs apart and brought the whip again. They started to whip me before they even asked me anything at all. From the left and the right until flesh flew from me and the blood pooled below me and my head sunk to my breasts. Then the prosecutor came to me and asked me about some things to do with Christiane. How she had taught me spells and what she had told me. I could answer this time. I confessed she had given me the secrets of how to cast charms. They asked me about the children I had charmed. I didn’t care anymore and I liked it that they thought I had the power to make charms real so I confessed to this as well, that I had made a potion to make a young woman well. It was true, I did sometimes sell the potions to customers who had sickness or wanted someone to love them. I think they were just coloured liquids really, not magic. But if the prosecutor said they were charms then I agreed. And all the while they carried on striking me with the whips. In the end I could hardly talk and I hung limp from the bindings on my wrists. If they had shown me a mirror I think I would have seen my whole body soaked in blood and torn by the flogging. Then they lifted me down again and wiped me as I lay shivering by the fire. They gave me the red wine again to calm me and then, after a while, they took me and chained me again in the cell I had come from. That was my second torture Grete.”
 
“Poor thing! How many times did they torture you then Anne? I can’t believe that they would keep doing this to you. What more did they want?”

“I can’t remember. I think two more times maybe, before they tortured me for the last time before my death. I’ve told you about one already haven’t I? When they used the water. I can’t remember where it was though. At some point they moved me back to Warêt, I think it was probably in April, and they used the water torture on me. I’ve told you about that. It was dreadful. I can’t tell you how the hot water hurt me. Not just my throat, but it tore at me and burned my stomach and made me twist in pain all the time. I couldn’t bear it at all. It was in Warêt I’m sure. I remember the tiny gaol and the cell they kept me in there. But then I was back in Namur. That must have been June. And they told me that they were going to use the most awful tortures on my body, the sort they keep for the most serious criminals and sorcerers. They took me again to the chamber and asked me their questions. I answered the ones I could. But they wanted me to suffer now, just to see me cry in my bonds I think. They used the rope drop again and then they tied me onto the torture rack and pulled on my four limbs until I was stretched in the air between the rollers and my whole body shrieked in pain and the ropes cut me so deeply. My head fell back and my hair was a tangle of sweat. I couldn’t breathe. Then they burned me with the hot irons on my breasts and my side. It was terrible Grete. After a time they would release me and let me rest by the fireside on a fur rug. It was not possible to be comfortable in any way. And then they would start again just as if they had never finished. And so it went for a whole day. I was dying, I was sure.

In the end they put me in my cell where I lay in pain. And then a day later they came to tell me that they had more depositions that proved I had stolen linen and jewelry and money and that I was a thief as well as a witch. I knew I was done for. I think I always knew this from the moment it all started. They had my confessions and they had their evidence and I only had to wait a short time, until July, where I was brought before the Aldermen and they read the death sentence for the crime of witchcraft for which I had confessed and for the commission of many acts of theft by night in the houses of the bourgeois of the city of Liège. I tried to deny everything in a burst of despair, but it was useless and the death sentence was confirmed and they made me repeat my confession, which I did with sadness, for I knew I could be no witch at all. But they said I was and maybe if I was a witch to be burned I was someone important I sometimes thought. At least in their eyes, perhaps. Then I was taken to the priest for a confession in religion. And I thought that I would be killed very quickly now, but that did not happen. It was strange.”

“When they made me confess they took me so quickly to my death, but I haven’t said everything about that yet, have I. Why did they leave you Anne? If they had been quicker I would not have been alone so long!”

“I don’t know. They moved me again, back to the little gaol in Warêt where I had suffered the water torture. They locked me in chains once more in the cell there, in the town where my father lived. I thought maybe that they wanted to put me to death there as that was my town. I spent the winter there. It was a sad time. I was simply waiting to die I suppose. All the time I thought of my tortures and looked at the marks on my poor body and I wondered about the confession and sometimes I denied it when the priest or the mayor came to talk with me. Maybe this was my mistake, I am not sure. In the end the winter passed and the spring came and so did summer and then one day they told me I was going back to Namur and that, because of my denials, two new councilors were going to examine my case. They took me to the tower of Bordial on the edge of the Sambre, beneath the citadel. Once again I was in a dark stone cell, chained naked to the walls. Every day the gaoler came and listened to me to hear if I mentioned something in my sleep which would accuse me. And once again the torture played its work in the procedure. This was the last time though Grete. I had no energy left after two years of torment and gaols and lying cold in the dark, I just wanted it finished. But I knew it would be the last time in the chamber and somehow, I do not know how to explain this, I knew I would miss the work that the torturer did to my body. I felt detached, almost as if I was watching as they used their tools and ropes on me, as they stretched me and burned me. I felt as if I was watching my own body writhe in the chains and hearing someone who wasn’t me cry and scream in pain. I knew it was close to the end. I told them everything they wanted to hear but still they wanted to torture me more. I was just a thing now, an object. I did not matter. I would soon be dead. We all understood that I think. And so my story moved to its final pages.

Your story and mine are coming together now I think Grete. Shall we join them up? I think you need to take me along your journey just a little further, don’t you?”
 
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“But there’s so little more to tell Anne. I just know I couldn’t have borne the torments you suffered. One day in the Rathaus was all they needed. I’ve told you about it. They drew me up and dropped me and drew me up and dropped me and threatened me with other tortures. They were heating the irons and they had other awful devices. I confessed. I had done nothing. I think everyone knew I had done nothing, but I confessed. They dragged me from the chamber into the hall and sentenced me Anne. I stood there with just the winding they had put around me for decency as they read out the sentence. I was to be executed the very next day, the twenty second of March, in the square before the Rathaus. That was that. They locked me in the cell. It would be my last night. The next night I was here, waiting for you Anne. And at last you arrived. We are together. At last.

But all night, as I lay in my chains, my mind dwelt on the words of the judge. I repeated them to myself. As if I could make them go away by turning them into some strange formula. I couldn’t bear to think of the dawn. I cried so much Anne.”

“What was it Grete? How did they sentence you? Tell me!”

“These were his words Anne. I will tell you:

"Ihre fünf Finger der rechten Hand, einer nach dem anderen mit glühenden Zangen abgezwacket, Nachmalen ihr Leib mit vler glühenden Zangen, nemlich in der brust und arm gegriffen, Folgig mit eisern Ketten uff einen erhabenen Pfahl angeschmiedet, lehendig geschmochtet und also vom leben zum Tode verrichtet werden, von Rechts wegen".

Those, those were the words that echoed in my head all night Anne. Those words. I was so terrified. I knew I would die, but why could they not show pity? I was so young. I don’t know what I hoped. How can it be right to be there in a cell, a young girl, naked and chained, and hoping for another death? Hoping for an axe or a rope? How is that possible? It can’t be possible can it Anne? Really it can’t. But they sentenced you too didn’t they? After the last torture. They must have done. What happened in Namur Anne?”
 
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“I think you know. Maybe you were watching? I think you know. Of course they made me wait, like they always had. I think it was October when they came and I knew it was the end at last. The seventeenth of October. The gaoler came to my cell early in the morning and asked me to stand. He was carrying a razor and he cut my hair and shaved all my body parts and then he bid me to wait. Later on a priest came and exorcised me. I felt nothing of course, but I knew what was coming, even though no words were spoken. I was still naked and in my chains. But then they came and unlocked me and had me put on a thin cloth dress that came just part way down my thighs and hardly covered me at all and they told me to wait. I sat still behind the iron bars, what else could I do? I waited. Eventually they came again and put new chains around my wrists and ankles and led me out of my cell and up the stairs and into the open air which I had hardly seen for two years or more and I could see the sun and the birds flying. I stared at the sky, but they dragged me quickly along and put me into a cart and soon I was being taken over the river and into the city and into the main square. And in front of me I could see the stake that they meant me to die at and at this moment I began to cry and cry.


And yet this was the day when they were making me real. Do you understand Grete? I was important, not a nobody for once. I was going to be the person everyone was looking at because I was a witch. They had said this. I was someone at last. I sort of smiled as the cart took me to the square. But I was also frightened. I had known pain, but this time they were going to kill me. Those are frightening words aren’t they. They would kill me this day and I would be dead. Is that how you felt Grete?”


“Yes. I felt that too. Go on Anne, go on…”


“So, they took me from the cart and led me to the stake. I was trembling. They helped me onto a little stool with three legs, maybe a few feet tall, I stood on it. I looked at the faces in the crowd. I wondered if they really wanted to see me die in such pain. I think probably they did, some of them, and probably they didn’t. Then when I was up on the stool, with my back to the stake, they came with chains. They wrapped them around my ankles and my thighs, and then around my waist. They pulled it very tight around my waist, so that I could hardly breathe. Then they crossed the chain over me between my breasts and over my shoulders. It was tight but I liked the feeling of the cold chain. My hands were tied behind me. I was fixed now to the stake. Next they pulled the stool away and I gasped as all my weight was held by the chains. I knew this was it. They put the bundles of wood under my feet, I think I was about four feet in the air, so there was room. There was not that much wood, but they had a pile beside the stake to feed the fire. I knew they wanted me to die slowly. I could hardly breathe. Was it like this for you Grete?”


“A little, but you heard my sentence didn’t you? But maybe you didn’t understand the German. After the night in the cell they pulled me out. They cut my black hair short like they did to you, so I looked like a boy, and they dressed me in a rough cotton shift. Then they took me out to the square where there was a large crowd waiting to watch. I knew the sentence. I was very afraid of the pain. They took me towards the stake but didn’t fix me to it. Two men held me tight while they did the first part. They held my arm out and the executioner came with a red-hot pincer. He grasped my finger on my right hand and pressed it until he broke the bone, then twisted until he tore the finger away. I can’t even describe the pain, Anne. And then he did it four more times. I couldn’t even cry. Then they dragged me to the post and fixed me there. He came again and ripped the shift from me so that my body was bared to the crowd and with the hot tongues he tore pieces of me from my arms and then from each breast. I can’t describe it Anne. It was too terrible. But when I fainted they hit me and slapped my face until I woke again and the pain drilled into me. And then I was like you. Fixed to the stake. And they piled up the bundles of wood around my ankles. They said that the city had taken a day to burn and so would I. I was so frightened, but I could do nothing. What happened next would happen. I was meant to suffer, just as you were, Anne.”


“And then for us both the flames came. They licked at our feet and warmed us, but then, so quickly, the awfulness of the pain came. I wanted the smoke to choke me but it would not. I wanted to swallow the flames but they were too small. They just burned into my flesh. Into my feet and calves, then my thighs, then my waist and belly. Then they licked around my breasts. Then above. I felt my own body melting. I know you felt this too Grete. We burned together I think. They destroyed us together. I had never imagined such pain. Even in the worst of the tortures. But I knew it would end. I wanted it to end, but somehow I wanted it not to. I was in torment Grete. Such torment. But …. But now it is over…. Is it over for you Grete?”


“Yes. It is all over. We found each other secretly in our flames I think Anne. It was meant to be this way I suppose. I hated the pain, but like you I loved the pain too. It made me feel real. Do you understand Anne?”

“Yes. I do. Everyone saw me in my fire. I was suddenly important. I was in the marketplace of Namur and everyone looked just at me. I was a grown-up at last, not a nobody. They looked at me Grete!”

“And now we are here together Anne. I hope you like me. I really hope you do. I love your red hair. I think I will love touching you forever. Do you feel the same Anne? I hope you do…”

“Grete…. I think I do….I think so Grete. But how can I be sure?”


THE END​
 
Really quite extra-ordinary writing PK. The characters are at once both so lost and yet so certain of what they are. The twilight world they now inhabit throws a curious shadow on the world they just came from and yet reveals it in all its dirt and hidden grime. Really well done :clapping:
 
This little tale was inspired by the stories of the fates of two young women in the early Seventeenth Century, one in the Low Countries, one in Saxony. They were both burned at the stake just two years apart. They were real people and the events told here happened. Sometimes it is hard to untangle myth and reality but I have done my best to sail between Scylla and Charybdis. Some of the story comes from the records, but they are confused. Some comes from the work of Nineteenth Century romantics, and I owe a debt, that I hope I have repaid at least in part, to Gaston Compère and his novel “Anne de Chantraine” and to Theodore Fontaine and his “Grete Minde”. If you ever happen to pass by Tangermünde, do look at the statue of Grete before the Rathaus and reflect on her terrible end.... and imagine her in that dark, grey, quiet, gentle place where she may still be dwelling with her Anne. I hope she is. I hope they both are, and that they find eternal solace, one with the other. I think they would love each other so much.

Tangermuende_Rathaus_Grete_Minde_2011-09-18.jpg
 
Thank you for your support and comments as I have produced this little thing. Sometimes the work of us writers on this lovely site provokes rather tangenital commentaries, which I often enjoy. They expand and illuminate. We enjoy learning from each other, I know we do. And yet... and yet... I am so grateful that somehow this story has slipped through... Maybe I wrote it quickly... I don't know.... but somehow it felt like a single thread and I think that Anne and Grete would have liked that. They lived you know... They really did.... I want to say thank you. I love you all.
 
pkindenhaag said:
Thank you for your support and comments as I have produced this little thing. Sometimes the work of us writers on this lovely site provokes rather tangenital commentaries, which I often enjoy. They expand and illuminate. We enjoy learning from each other, I know we do. And yet... and yet... I am so grateful that somehow this story has slipped through... Maybe I wrote it quickly... I don't know.... but somehow it felt like a single thread and I think that Anne and Grete would have liked that. They lived you know... They really did.... I want to say thank you. I love you all.
Click to expand...
PS - I loved the flying angels/devils!!!!
 
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