Chapter 25 - Thou Shalt Not Suffer a Witch to Live

What an amazing chapter! I was absolutely drawn in from the opening scene until the unbelievable ending.

Starting with Geilie and Claire being tossed in the Thieves' hole, I was off-base as to where I thought that whole mob scene was going. I thought for sure that Geilie had just set Claire up, and she was going to get off scot-free (if you'll pardon the pun). Nope, not happenin'. As the girls "share" just because of the close quarters, Geilie ultimately reveals she is pregnant by Dougal.

As it turns out, Arthur Duncan had suspected all along that he was being poisoned by his wife, and the last straw came when he had seen her undressed...and six months pregnant. A whole other side of Geilie is revealed: the scheming power monger who we now find out is a Jacobite raising money for the war effort. It's small wonder she and Dougal hooked up. One of my favorite comments came as Claire offers to summarize Geilie's lack of regret:

“Whatever happens with the examiners, I have no regrets, Claire.”
“I regret only that I have but one life to give for my country?” I asked ironically.
“That’s nicely put,” she said.
“Isn’t it, just?”

And now being accused as a witch seems to be the least of Geilie's problems.

Within a few days, the ecclesiastical examiners arrive in town and set up the formal "hearing" for evidence against the accused witches. I can only imagine how every woman reading this next section cringed at the idea of being in a similar situation, having those same false charges read against themselves with ultimate guilt hanging in the balance. Diana does a great job recreating an historical "witch hunt", complete with mob scene and dramatic "eyewitness" accounts.

One of the scariest things to me was how she conveyed the skewed perception of how the priest relates his encounter with Claire after the dog attack at the castle:

“At noonday on a Tuesday, two weeks past, I met this woman in the gardens of Castle Leoch. Using unnatural powers, she called down a pack of hounds upon me, such that I fell before them, and was in mortal peril. Bein’ wounded grievously in the leg, I made to leave her presence. The woman tried to lure me wi’ her sinfulness, to go awa’ in private with her, and when I resisted her wiles, she cast a curse upon me.”

That, unfortunately, has the ring of historic authenticity. I'm sure many an innocent woman was condemned on twisted testimony such as this. And sadder yet, the eyewitness may well believe the truth of their own biased perspective.

I was happy to see that a least one of Claire's acquaintances was prepared to stand in the gap for her: Ned Gowan. While his true-to-form lawyering was long-winded and drawn out, he succeeded in causing the blood lust of the crowd to die down; a perfect ploy. He also managed to have Claire's case considered separately from Geilies; another win. Although, as it turns out, even a good lawyer can't take the place of a bold and committed husband.

Testing the "innocence" of a woman accused of witchcraft.
From a woodcut of the Hartford, Conn. witch trials of 1647.

As the expected does-a-witch-float scenario begins to play out at that Loch, Claire figures she has little, if anything, to lose. She decides to resist with every last ounce of rebellion in her, which succeeds in getting her nothing more than stripped and flogged. In rushes Jamie to rescue her against the odds and the mob (not the mafia, the frenzied crowd, I mean). Standing fiercely agains the crowd and her accusers, Jamie is given some wonderful lines:

The judge blinked once or twice, as though unable to credit this behavior, then surged to the attack once more.“You have no place in the workings o’ this court, sir! I’ll demand that ye surrender the prisoner at once. Your own behavior will be dealt with presently!”...

“As to that, sir, I swore an oath before the altar of God to protect this woman. And if you’re tellin’ me that ye consider your own authority to be greater than that of the Almighty, then I must inform ye that I’m no of that opinion, myself.”

That is a great quote.

Surprisingly, even Geilie rises to the occasion to create enough of a diversion to allow the couple to get away. At this point in the story, I'm not sure whether to hate her or like her. She's opportunistic, yes, but also demonstrates concern as well. Just like at the Fairy Mountain with the changeling, she was trying to protect Claire from interfering (and it did indeed come back to bite Claire at the sentencing).

Jamie's showmanship culminates with him tossing a rosary made of jet onto Claire's neck, demonstrating that she's not a witch. Nope, no "Exorcist" moments here. Just pure, unadulterated love and guts. What every true marriage should be made of, right? In the diversion created by Geilie, the couple forces their way through the crowd and escapes.

Okay, now this is where this chapter gets unhinged. With Claire in such a fragile state, physically beaten and still in shock, Jamie seeks to protect her, but questions her directly: is she really a witch?

This is where Claire loses it, and spills out all of it: the time travel, the future, everything; I did NOT see this coming. Jamie, while initially frightened (or at least on edge) listens patiently as she raves and gushes and pours out everything about Frank, her past (future?) life, and the stones at Craigh na Dun that made it possible. Then, my favorite lines from the whole chapter:

Do you really believe me, Jamie?”
He sighed, and smiled ruefully down at me.
“Aye, I believe ye, Sassenach. But it would ha’ been a good deal easier if you’d only been a witch.”

To make things more unimaginable, Jamie takes her back to Craigh na Dun! He wants to see first-hand some of the mysterious happenings there. Sure enough, for Claire, the stones still have the ability to take her away (although to who-knows-where) as she partially starts the process, but then Jamie pulls her away at the last second.

Resigned to the reality of it all, Jamie commits to letting her go back. Claire, now with the freedom to do what she has wanted to do all along for the past several months...sits and thinks about it! I thought maybe at this point she would go back to Frank, and then the story would start going between both timelines with Claire in the future and Jamie moving on; or Claire going back and forth between both times. But no, after all of her efforts to go back, she decides to stay.

And then, to top it off, Claire describes how she had seen on Geilie's arm the same scar she has on hers: a smallpox vaccine! She's not the only one! And now Jamie knows Claire's real past! I feel relieved (for her) that now she has a new base from which to operate in this time, and that there are many more things she needs to learn about the process that took her there. And how is Jamie going to process all of this information, now that she has told him about how the Jacobite uprising ends?

Chapter 24 (part 3)

As Claire decides to head to Colum's study to borrow a book, she overhears a conversation between Colum and Dougal regarding  the Duke possibly helping Jamie regain his freedom. She maneuvers her way in by bearing a tray that Mrs. Fitz had sent by Laoghaire, who ran frightened when she dropped a cup. I couldn't help chuckling at the image that popped into my head when Claire said she had to hide behind the curtains on the landing as Laoghaire approached, and all that was sticking out was her feet. All I could think of was Mary Poppins, and those horrendously pointed boots she wears.

These are all I could imagine sticking out
below the curtain where Claire was hiding...

In the process of actually being in the room and rummaging for books of interest, Claire glances out the window and witnesses Hamish attempt to jump a low wall with the horse Cobham, who stumbles and topples over onto the young boy, knocking the wind out of him. Claire notices the concern that Colum has for the young lad, "as if he were your own." "Yes," is all Colum replies. This is like the fifth time that a reference is made to who's son Hamish is...for crying out loud, Diana, just tell us plainly!

At dinner that evening, Claire recounts the physical features of the characters seated around the dinner table. These descriptions belie Diana's astute knowledge of physiology, and of tribal traits among the various indigenous people. During the dinner, Jamie recounts his past encounter with the Duke of Sandringham. His explanations of the Duke's unusual fetish for young boys, and Jamie in particular, set the group laughing with ribald comments.

The next day, Alec and Jamie rush in and enlist Claire's assisitance in helping one of the fillies give birth, as the foal had turned. This required Claire to reach inside and physically turn the foal so the delivery could proceed. As Diana describes the process, I had the impression this is something she had either done first hand, or had researched thoroughly enough to make it seem as though she had. For me, not being raised on a farm or tending to livestock, this simply demonstrates the commitment a good "husbandman" (farmer) has to those entrusted to his care. I'm sure my arm would not be long enough. Yup, I'm sure of it.

Geilie invites Claire to gather moss in the foothills out away from the village, and in the process of their harvest they come across a small baby left to die on a "mountain of the fairies". The legend of the changeling was that the Wee Folk would come and replace the sick child with the human child they had previously stolen. Claire will have none of it, but Geilie actually points out a bit of "wisdom" (or is it a set-up?) before she leaves to head back to the village:

“Claire,” she said urgently, shaking me by the arms. “Listen to me. If ye go near that child and it dies—and it will, believe me, I’ve seen them like that—then the family will blame you for it. Do ye no see the danger of it? Don’t ye know what they say about you in the village?”

Claire decides to risk being counted a witch for the sake of saving the child, but it's too late. Alone in the dusk, Jamie, concerned for her welfare, comes to her aid to help her return to the castle. While Jamie admits he doesn't believe the fairie stories, he imparts a statement that struck me about our lives in general, and why people are prone to believe "fairie stories" in the first place:

“They’ve ne’er been more than a day’s walk from the place they were born, except for a great thing like a clan Gathering, and that might happen twice in a lifetime. They live among the glens and the lochs, and they hear no more of the world than what Father Bain tells them in kirk of a Sunday. That and the old stories.”

How true that is for our own lives, as well. We fall into our routines and conduct "business as usual" all the while life is passing us by.  As John Lennon said, "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans." In that context, the "fairie stories" of our lives are what provide a deeper meaning to the callous and bitter world that we can sometimes experience in the process of making a living and raising a family.

Upon returning to the castle they find the Duke has arrived. For all that was said about the man, Claire finds him a boisterous character and takes pleasingly to him.

As Geilie had promised, she makes good on her offer to Claire to help her discover who left the ill-wish in their bed. At least that's what she says. In the process of the "summoning", she actually drugs Claire with opium to find out what secrets she might be hiding about where she comes from.

“Who sent you here?”
“I came.”
“Why did you come?”
“I can’t tell.”
“Why can’t you tell?”
“Because no one will believe me.”
The voice in my head grew still more soothing, friendly, beguiling.
“I will believe you. Believe me. Who are you?”
“Claire.”

 At least now we know for sure why everyone says she is a witch.

"Really, I'm not a bad witch. Wait, I guess
that does start with a "b" and and with "itch".
But you have to admit I look stunning in this bodice..."

True to form, this bears out when Geile's husband is overcome at the banquet hall, gasping and dies on the floor, despite Claire's  best efforts to save him. Witch, indeed. This long chapter ends on the portent of only further harm for Claire from Geilie, as she arrives at Geilie's under false pretenses, and the threat of being named a witch herself.

Chapter 9 - The Gathering

As Claire is settling in to her new routine in the 18th century (as much as can be expected, anyway), she recounts some of the daily activities that are becoming common pleasantries: helping in the kitchen, visiting the stables, working in the castle garden.

I would join the gathering in the Great Hall to listen to the evening’s entertainment of stories, song, or the music of harp or pipes. I could listen to Gwyllyn the Welsh bard for hours, enthralled in spite of my total ignorance of what he was saying, most times.

Sometimes I like to just listen to international music when I just want to listen to some contemporary beats without being assaulted by lyrics. What I call "international music" is essentially any kind of world music which is either instrumental or where I don't understand the language. Since I only speak and understand English, the field is pretty wide open! Maybe Brazilian or European folk music, doesn't matter; as long as I can't understand what they're saying so I don't have to think about it, just enjoy it for what it is. That's how I picture Claire's enjoyment of the bard.

When she gets invited to go berry picking, she relates a bit of the routine:

We plucked only the best, dropping them into our baskets in juicy heaps, eating as much as we could hold, and carrying back the remainder to be made into tarts and pies.

This brought to mind a memory of me of "helping" my mother to pick strawberries when I was just a "wee bairn". I'm surprised when it came time to weigh how many pounds we had picked, that the farm hands didn't want to weigh me on the way out of the berry patch! One in the bucket, two in my mouth, sit in the shade, eat some more, put one or two in the basket, eat another handful -- I'm pretty sure I wan't really much help at all!

Even among the preparations for the Gathering, Claire is still thinking of ways to escape. I like how there is really no plan except just to get back to the rocks at Craigh na Dun...but then what? I'm sure I would be thinking the same thing. Although I've noticed she hasn't mentioned Frank in quite a while...

After Claire befriends Geilie Duncan on the berry picking expedition, she also has an opportunity to meet with her in the nearby town of Cranesmuire to receive some herbs needed for the castle population. Geilie is depicted as a very likeable character, although each time she is described, she is related as having a sharp wit and "a wry-tongued, cynical viewpoint". I had to stifle a laugh, as I couldn't help but think of my oldest daughter; it was practically describing her to a "T", and then I just kept picturing her in the action in the place of Geilie. Can't imagine where she gets that wry wit and cynicism...

While Claire is at the Duncan's home, a commotion begins outside near the town square:

For some time, I had been conscious of noises coming from the street outside, but had attributed them to the traffic of villagers coming from Sunday Mass; the kirk was located at the end of the street by the well, and the High Street ran from kirk to square, spreading from there into a fan of tiny lanes and walks.

The fact that the population is Catholic shows how far removed the village is within the Highlands. Since Catholicism had essentially been outlawed in Scotland after the Reformation, it was only in the remote areas of the Highlands where Catholicism was still practiced, though usually not openly. Recusants as they were called, would be persecuted for not attending Anglican services, and even included some Reformed Protestant Christians (or any dissenters from the Church of England). So to have an open mob of villagers coming from Mass, it would definitely be a localized enclave. Of course, with my very limited understanding of the Jacobite rising, this seems to fit neatly with the socio-politics of the day.

I'm also quite amazed at how deftly the time-oriented perspective is maintained. When Claire equivocates the mob in Cranesmuire to the similar dissociation of the German people in Nazi Germany, she writes:

Looking down on the assembly, standing patiently in the drizzle awaiting a verdict, I suddenly had a vivid understanding of something. Like so many, I had heard, appalled, the reports that trickled out of postwar Germany; the stories of deportations and mass murder, of concentration camps and burnings. And like so many others had done, and would do, for years to come, I had asked myself, “How could the people have let it happen?"

I know at the outset of this blog I stated I was not going to comment on Diana's writing, but I was struck with a thought when I read this passage. As Diana is relating this story, she has to be extremely mindful of writing not from our current perspective, but from Claire's WWII perspective. I noticed in the foregoing passage how she emphasized, "like so many others had done, and would do, for years to come..." Claire could not have known that except in understanding the depth of the German indifference would have historical ramifications, which of course it did. I don't know, a minor point perhaps, but it did make me think how many phrases and references we take for granted that cannot be used by the author because they would not have been in existence in Claire's time in the 1940's. Challenging, indeed.

The tension of the mob scene continues:

...I thought of myself stepping out, alone and powerless, to confront that mob of solid and virtuous citizens, avid for the excitement of punishment and blood to alleviate the tedium of existence.

Some things never change. Similar things excite today: the daredevil stunts, the Indy car crashes, the boxing injuries; people still clamor for these things to "alleviate the tedium of existence".

To me, the most poignant statement comes as Claire struggles with her own inability for action to somehow help this poor tanner's boy:

To stand against a crowd would take something more than ordinary courage; something that went beyond human instinct. And I feared I did not have it, and fearing, was ashamed.

Wow. Just...wow. A courage that goes beyond human instinct; that, to me, is unbelievably profound. Claire's recognition of her lack of this type of courage goes beyond her own shame to us; to me. Can we not identify with some illustration from our own life when we refused to be the one who "stood in the gap" for another? And then felt ashamed for not having done what was right? Wow.

The scene with the tanner's boy at the pillory is central to Claire's adventure in the village that day, and as such we see many insights into the justice of the day: its barbarity and striking cruelty, but also its effectiveness as the young tanner lad, ear pinned to the pillory, was reproved for stealing by the citizens of the community:

...now and then a more sober citizen was to be seen, seizing a moment from the round of daily duties to attend to the moral improvement of the delinquent by means of a few well-chosen words of reproval and advice.

I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who can think of a few young people who would have benefited greatly from a similar public display and embarrassment. If only our community provided opportunities for more elder involvement with our young people, our streets might become safer environments for all.

While the ear-nailing was extreme, it makes for a great dramatic scene with Jamie and Claire, as Claire convinces Jamie to help her release the lad so he does not have to rip his head free of the nail. I thoroughly enjoyed Claire's mock faint in the orchestration of the distraction so Jamie could pull the nail and help the young lad. Perhaps we meet up with the lad later in the story...?

At first, my initial thought was, again, why would Jamie, who is already shown to be in hiding of sorts, risk exposing himself over such a comparative trivial manner? But then, in the closing narration, the question is answered for me, almost word-for-word as the question had formed in my head:

“But it was a risk to you,” I said, persisting. “I didn’t realize you’d be in danger when I asked you.”

"Ah,” he said, noncommittally. And a moment later, with a hint of amusement, “Ye wouldna expect me to be less bold than a wee Sassenach lassie, now would ye?”

I can hear the collective swooning from here. But it does indeed fit the moment, and of course, Jamie's character nicely.

All in all, this chapter is a clever and briskly moving narrative of village life in those times.