“It has come to our attention…” I began. Suddenly, every eye and ear in every pew was focused on me. I savored those words. With just those few words, I, the Vicar of Andras Hill, was once again in my appointed post as the leader of the village.

“… that a certain young woman of our parish has been seen going to the Stones to perform love spells to turn the eye of a young man of the village unwillingly towards her.”

I loved young people and their petty rivalries and denunciations.

“Sussana Beckworth. Stand forth!” I thundered.

The girl, trembling, stood up.

“Do you deny that last Tuesday you went to the stones to consort with the demon there and cast a love spell?”

“I did no such thing.”

“That is a lie, for you were witnessed doing so!”

“Who is the witness? She has a right to face her accuser!” This shout came from one of the fishermen, Dauy Malison.

“Laetitia Forgell. Stand.” I commanded.

I expected that girl to jump up, but she clearly did not expect to have to make her accusation in public and was almost as nervous as the accused.

I was further surprised when Cait Rede, the baker’s wife, stood and faced Laetitia.

“When did this happen? Last Tuesday I sold you bread at noon and sold bread to Sussana and her mother at mid-afternoon. It is a three-hour walk to the stones and another three back. You couldn’t have seen what you told the Vicar.”

I needed to take back the control of the situation. Clearly the child had been too stupid to think through her story. For my part, I had been hasty, but there were multiple paths I could still take for what I intended.

“Laetitia Forgell. Do you stand by your witnessing to me?”

Her parents stood, shocked and staring at her. “What have you said?”

The girl broke down in tears and collapsed back into the pew, hands covering her face.

In all honesty, it didn’t really matter what happened in this little morality play. It was merely the entry point to take down the Stones. I could still use it.

“I see the witness has recanted. But while the Stones stand, they are an enticement to both those who would consort with Satan and those who make false witness against others. I require the men of the village to join me tomorrow to go up to the Stones and cast them down.”

Hume Valcar, one of the hunters stood. “Are you going to exorcise it first?”

“That’s right! I’m not going near the Stones until they’ve been exorcised.” came a shout from another hunter.

I should have expected the superstitious dolts to be nervous. They are the ones most often on the hill and shy away from the Stones. Exchanging letters with the Bishop to get an exorcist here would take months, much longer than I wanted to have those damned things sitting in the back of people’s minds.

“I will go and exorcise the Stones tomorrow. Then, Saturday next, I will require all the men of the village to join me and throw down the Stones.”

In the morning I wrapped my bible, bell, crucifix and flask of holy water into a pack, along with a bottle of water, bread, cheese and a piece of chicken for myself.

While I had never actually been to the Stones myself, the directions were clear and the paths were not muddy. First one crest, then another, finally a third. There, off to the left was a flat meadow on the hillside, in the center was a ring of giant standing stones surrounding a giant black stone, probably the altar.

I carefully unpacked and walked around the ring, splashing holy water on the upright stones. Then holding aloft my bible and crucifix, I stepped between two of the stones and approached the altar. Once there I had to juggle the bible and crucifix in my right hand while using my left to empty the remaining holy water on the altar.

Nothing happened. The circle was dead and, presumably, so was the demon.

I suddenly had a feeling of someone looking over my shoulder, inspecting my work.

“What did you expect to happen?”

The words just sounded in my mind, without having been spoken into the wind. I looked around wildly, but there was no one there.

I dropped the flask of holy water and raised bible and crucifix in both hands. “In the name of God the Father and his son Jesus Christ I abjure thee to leave this place.”

“I could have said ’Welcome to my parlor said the spider to the fly’“ said the mental voice disapprovingly. ”But I try to be nice. What have I ever done to you?”

“Begone foul fiend, spawn of Satan. I am proof against your evil.”

“I am a child of the EverChangingIs, not ’spawn’ of a figment of your imagination.”

“Get out of my head and show yourself!”

There was a mental laugh. “It doesn’t work that way.”

This was like no demon I had ever heard of.

“I will summon the army to pull down your stones!”

“Which will have as much effect as the water you spilled on them” responded the voice in a tone which sounded half amused, half disappointed at my answer.

Two stones on opposite sides of the meadow from me suddenly fell over, out of the circle. Just as suddenly, they stood back in place.

“See, just stones.”

“In the name of Jesus Christ, leave my people alone!”

“Another figment of your imagination. And since when are they ’your’ people?”

I stepped outside the circle.

“Still here.”

Obviously the demon was much more powerful than I expected. It was just toying with me. I will have to plead for assistance from the bishop. With a sob, I grabbed my pack and started running. The voice did not follow.

I was exhausted as I stumbled into the village. The few folk in view gathered round in askance.

“It was too strong for me. I’ll have to write to the Bishop.” I gasped. One took my pack and two others helped me back to the Vicarage.

“Did it hurt you?”

“No, I was too strong for that and God’s word defended me, but I could not banish it.”

“Did it attack you?”

“No, but it would have if it could. Everyone needs to stay away from the Stones for fear of losing their immortal souls.”

As they filed out of the house, I heard one say “I don’t think anyone is going to pull down the stones anytime soon.”

This should have been so easy. What had I done wrong?

I sat down at my little writing table, pulled out a piece of foolscap and reached for my pen. The Bishop would need to know a description of the demon, but it never appeared other than speaking in my head. It did make the stones fly around the meadow. Well, fall down and stand up. But it never made any threats, so confident was it. It did not give a name, but called both Jesus Christ and Satan “figments of my imagination.” It was the last that truly puzzled me. What kind of demon would not recognize either Christ or Satan as Lord?

And now some in the village knew that I had failed. Everyone would know by morning. It would take a powerful sermon on Sunday to ensure they stayed faithful. God is more powerful than his preacher and his is the power of eternal damnation. Fire and brimstone it would be.

Yesterday I rested. Today, walking in the village, everyone gave me strange looks. The innkeeper, Gilbert Blexham, told me in a whisper that the village no longer believes me.

I had made mistakes. First, calling out the girl Sussana Beckworth on false testimony. Then, claiming that the demon of the stones would have attacked me if it could.

The village has had no problem with the Stones in two hundred years. More than one person told Gilbert “If the Vicar went up the hill and tried to kick a dog in its own house, the Vicar should expect the dog to bite back.”

I have heard rumors that the village council will try to make peace with the demon if I have angered it.

You do not make peace with demons. Making a pact with Satan was an offense against the Witchcraft Act on penalty of death. I cannot allow such an attempt by the village council, but making a charge against them would be serious.

To head this off, I have sent a letter to the Bishop, both demanding an exorcist to deal with the demon and charging the village council with trying to make a pact with Satan.

A messenger arrived from the Bishop today. I’ve been summoned to Carlisle to explain myself. Apparently, the village council had sent a complaint to the Bishop before he received my letter. I don’t know the basis of the complaint at this point, but the messenger is insistent that I pack and leave immediately.

I asked the messenger to get Gilbert Blexham, the innkeeper. He might be able to tell me what was in the complaint. The messenger returned without the publican, but with an answer.

The council has formally stated that they think I have lost my mind. To this end, they cite:

• That I made baseless accusations about witchcraft against young women in the village that have been proven false simply to expand my authority as vicar;
• That I have falsely claimed there is a demon in the stones that tried to attack me. Everyone knows the standing stones up in the hills are just stones from the false religions of barbarian tribes of long ago, with no evidence of witchcraft;
• That in the hundreds of years of the village’s existence there have never been any instances of dealing with Satan, either in the village or at the stones;
• Finally, that I am making baseless accusations against the council itself to try to expand my authority in the village, claiming the council is making a pact with a demon in the stones. There is no demon, and everyone in the village will testify that the members of the council have not left the village in the last three weeks.

The bald faced lies made me apoplectic. I’m afraid I screamed at the messenger. That won’t help my case with the Bishop.

I’ve been told I must leave tomorrow.

There were no further diary entries in this diary. The Vicar’s story continues a year later, in July of 1643.

Next - The Vicar Returns (July 10-27, 1643)

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