Witch of the Plague

Witch of the Plague - Day 4

Mama and I went out selling Black Death preventatives on the 4th day of August...

“Wake up, Rose!” Mama snapped, the lines on her forehead prominent, as my blanket was ripped off me. I wanted to stay in bed forever so I could not catch the plague!

“We are to go-a-selling preventatives about the village,” she informed me. When I protested about work, she told me she had paid a messenger boy to tell Mrs Smythe I would not be present that day.

“The boy was well cheeky an all! Dipping the coin in vinegar in case it had a witch’s curse on it!” Mama exclaimed indignantly. I then dressed in my simple white muslin gown and tied my hair back with a black ribbon; ‘twas bought for a penny. Mama gave myself and Elizabeth baskets of herbal potions in cheap vials.

We spoke no words as we walked past the Cavendish and Butterworth households. 9 dead from both, and who knows who else had passed away over on the other side of town. The Black Death would have deeply affected poor Mrs Butterworth, for she was with child.

Business was slow, for many turned their doors on our faces once they knew ‘twas us Marshalls.

“Rosey-posey Marshall, daughter of a witch!” The children teased as I ambled past, their elfish faces pinched into cruel, ugly sneers.

“Rosey-posey-” Their chants were cut off by the ringing off bells. Dread began to fill my body: the Black Death was claiming lives- and quickly. One of the little girls who was chanting walked up to me with a solemn expression. She offered me a grubby coin, serious, wide eyes looking at me.

“May I have a preventative please?”

We sold 38 herbal potions in total. Elizabeth helped greatly by singing a sad tale of the Black Death to attract attention. My family and I all had a potion too- although I doubt it did much good. It did taste nice though, made of rue. Many paid an extra penny when we explained rue’s old meaning was of grace, for they were anxious to do whatever possible to have God forgive their sins. The only sin I could think of having was being an illegitimate and supposed ‘daughter of a witch’, for I was a diligent worker and went to church regularly.

On the way home a small boy with no shoes, and seemingly no home, begged us to buy one of his ‘Black Death curing flowers’. I did so, for I felt the greatest sympathy for him. The pink flowers were quite ordinary, but I gave them to Elizabeth for I am sure she could find some use of them for ‘prettifying’ herself. 

Mama sent me out to get water as we had none for dinner. I was most hesitant after yesterday’s discussion. What if the water really did contain the Black Death? Then ‘twould be all my fault! I told Mama my worries, but she laughed them off. The seriousness of the Black Death had no effect on her, for she was singing and dancing like ‘twas Mayday.

“We’re as safe as houses,” she exclaimed. Grandmamma pointed out that houses are sometimes not safe, for they burn down, and Mama chided her impertinence. I was not far from the river when the bells struck again. I froze, unable to move. Every bone in my body tensed with fear. Time slowed down. I ran all the way back home, after seeing a shadow I thought was the Grim Reaper. Mama was cross I had forgotten the water, so we had to eat our hunks of stale bread without anything to down it.