Page 30 of The Snow Witch

‘It’s really dark, though!’ said his sister, a girl of about nine with long, blonde hair and a cheeky smile. ‘But it’s fun.’

‘Thanks…’ The fear on Violet’s face must have been pretty obvious, even to those tots.

But still, she was reluctant to go in that lift, even as Jake came back with the tickets. ‘There are exhibitions on all the floors,’ he said, ‘mainly about the Border Reivers, and crime and punishment. The lift stops at every floor, and the dungeon is a bonus. And bonus number two – there’s an exhibition about the Witch Trials.’

‘Really? So – who was actually held here? Witches? Perhaps?’ Violet had the sense of things – of people – pressing in on her and, her heart pounding, she stepped to one side, almost as if she was letting someone rush by her, out of the door and into the street. A breeze that hadn’t been there before lifted her hair and she shivered. She was sure this place would be swarming with ghosts.

‘Debtors, I think.’ Jake consulted his leaflet. ‘Petty thieves. Border Reivers. It was a pre-trial gaol, and they’d go to the Moot Hall for their trials, apparently. Oh, and it’s built out of stone from Corbridge Roman Fort.’

‘I need to ask again. Jake, were there ever any – witches – held here?’ She needed to know. She had that prickling sensation on her scalp, the same as she’d had at Newbrough.

‘Possibly.’ Jake nodded. ‘We’ll find out when we look at the exhibition.’

‘Actually, I think I’m going to ask.’ She walked over to the desk. ‘Hi. I’m doing some research into the Newcastle Witch Trials for a book, and I’m just wondering, were any witches ever held here?’ She smiled at the admissions clerk, hoping she, Violet, didn’t look too scary, or that it was too silly a question.

‘Not that we’re aware of,’ said the clerk. ‘But so many records have been lost – there’s a chance, I suppose. One of the accused in the 1650 Newcastle trials was from this area so she might well have been held here before her trial.’

Violet felt sick. That was the feeling she was getting: that the gaol held a few more secrets than were evident.

‘May I ask her name?’

‘I’d have to look it up. If you come back to me after you’ve explored, I can tell you then.’

‘Great. Thank you.’ Violet went back to Jake. ‘They’re not sure there were witches here.’

‘You and your witches. Do you think Meg was here?’

Violet shook her head. ‘Actually, no. I think that if she was here, and she’d been tried, she would have been despatched on the Town Moor in Newcastle with the rest. Buried in St Andrew’s churchyard with them all – nails through their kneecaps to stop them rising again.’ She pulled a face in disgust. ‘Not dragged back to Newbrough to be tied to a stake and burned. Having said that, who’s to say she really was tied to a stake? Nobody knows. It’s probably just a legend that’s warped into fact over the years.’

‘Fair enough. Okay, do you want to do the top floors first and work down, or the dungeon first and work up?’

Violet did not particularly want to visit the dungeon at all. ‘Top down, I think,’ she said.

‘Stairs or lift?’

‘Stairs.’ Violet knew that once she set foot in that lift, there’d be no going back.

‘This way, then.’

And she followed Jake.

* * *

The top few floors were full of stories and tableaux and different objects that told the tale of the gaol and the people who were imprisoned there and who worked there. Jake found it fascinating.

Violet seemed less enamoured of it all – quite jumpy, in fact. She kept looking over her shoulder, her expression suggesting that she couldn’t wait to get out of the building, although she held it together enough for Jake to explore.

The exhibition about the Newcastle Witch Trials was on the first floor. Jake was convinced Violet would be excited about it. ‘Look!’ he said. ‘Isn’t that a marvellous picture?’ There was some sort of engraving showing a handful of women wearing bonnets and swinging from some gallows. A few faces peered out of a prison cell, seemingly knowing they were next.

‘Oh God, that’s awful.’ Violet pulled a face. ‘Ralph Gardiner. That’s from his 1655 pamphlet on his grievances against the coal trade. It just makes it real, doesn’t it? Even though it was “journalism”.’ She made quote marks around the word. ‘It’s all social instability, religious unease, suspicion of Catholics. Not to mention the Puritan council that ran Newcastle in 1650. Like I say. Awful.’

‘You’re not wrong, Ms Academic Researcher! Hey, look at this.’ Jake had moved over to the next display case. It showed a bill of charges from the accounts of the Newcastle Chamberlain. ‘This guy’s written out a bill of charges for the witches. It’s for two weeks, ending 23 August 1650. Wow. It cost £15 19s 2d to execute the prisoners. What’s that?’ Jake pulled his phone out to check. ‘Just over two grand in today’s money.’

‘Inhuman,’ muttered Violet. She glowered at a list of the names. ‘These were real people.’

‘It says here there were some more trials later on. Ann Armstrong⁠—’

‘—a kid who accused over thirty women from Corbridge in 1673. No charges were brought against them and Ann disappeared. What does that tell you?’