Saga of a Medieval Punishment (A Poem)

The scene displayed a muddy river bank,
With mire in which one's feet sank.

Many people held torches on high,
Illuminating the pitch dark sky.

Three young men with hands tied back,
Waiting for death from the axe keeper's whack.

Each one's crime so little and small,
It could hardly be called a crime at all.

The first one dared to steal bread,
For his sick wife laid to bed.

The second loved the king's woods so much,
That he poached deer, ox, and such.

The third was just a boy so young,
His job was just to shovel horse dung.

Then one fateful day the king passed by,
Escaping the notice of the boy's eye.

Flinging refuse into the air,
Everyone turned to see who'd dare,
To fling such a revolting thing,
In the direction of the king.

Now the time had came, the hour,
When all three would ascend God's holy tower.

They all stepped forward bravely, and without delay,
Each one had to pay.

So as this story ends,
As the bough twists and bends,
We close our door,
To our history store.

Photo Credit: Mike Carbonaro

The Beginning

As Martha watched Betty skulk down the stairs, she wondered if she should follow her or go back to sleep. This was the third time this week that Betty had gotten out of bad, dressed and gone outside, each time doing something a little too loud, causing Martha to wake up.

As Martha sat up, she heard the front door close. She bent over, carefully pulled on her winter boots, and quickly dressed. She scampered downstairs as quietly as possible, opened the front door, and walked outside.

The moon was full so Martha could clearly see her sister standing in front of their cousin's house. Slowly the door opened and their nine-year old cousin stepped outside. Betty and Abigail said something to each other and then, grasping each others' hands, ran off into the night. They ran back towards Betty's house and into the root cellar.

Martha crept up to the door and listened. In the cellar, she heard not one voice, not two, but seven voices all talking at once. Then all was silent; nothing was to be heard except the hoot of an owl.

Then a quiet lilting voice began to tell a strange story. Martha recognized the voice as the one that belonged to their servant, Tituba. Tituba was a strange girl; all Martha knew about her was that she had grown up on an island in the Atlantic.

Martha listened with anticipation as Tituba told story after story about witches and spooks. "How can my sister sit there and listen to those stories, something that clearly goes against the Puritan way of life? Martha thought.

Martha didn't know it then but as she sat listening to Tituba's lilting voice, the stories she told would start something that would be a horrible mistake: the Salem Witch Trials.


Photo Credit: Len Radin

The Huguenot

Elizabeth tried to tie the white band to William's arm, but the brave young man just pulled it away. King Charles IX was planning to annihilate all the Huguenots in Paris on St. Bartholomew,s Day. Elizabeth was Catholic and William was a Huguenot.The Catholics had been told to wear a white arm to be identified.

"You must wear the arm band!" Elizabeth cried desperately. "I love you. I can't lose you."

"We will meet again." And with that William walked out of the garden, tall and erect.

In the town square a dozen Huguenots stood facing a hundred or so soldiers,William among them. The soldiers took out their swords and pointed them at the Huguenots.

"Do not be afraid," said William in a loud voice as the soldiers charged forward. "Our blood to be spilled today is the start of something much bigger!"

The mass murder started. Hours later, not a single sound was in the air, and in the square a mass of bodies lay about. In the middle of them Elizabeth sat cradling the lifeless body of her lover, William the Huguenot.


Painting Credit: The Huguenot by John Everett Millais