Daughters of the Witching Hill by Mary Sharratt

Now, I'm a sucker for good historical fiction. That's why I love writers like Ann Rinaldi, who do an amazing job of integrating compelling fictional stories with historical fact and circumstance. Mary Sharratt, author of Daughters of the Witching Hill, proves to have a gift for this kind of writing. I'm also a sucker for anything set in the early colonial era, whether in America or Britain, as I find that period fascinating.

This novel, set around the time of the 1612 witch hunt in Pendle, an area in northwestern England's Lancashire, explores the life of one Elizabeth Southerns, known popularly as Mother Demdike. An illegitimate daughter of a local nobleman, Bess Southerns spends her life begging for charity from her newly Protestant (and newly stingy) fellow townspeople, while she finds herself longing for the "old religion" of Catholicism mixed with country superstition. As the narrative progresses, she discovers that she possesses a gift for blessing and healing--by using the Latin prayers of Catholicism--and becomes known as a cunning woman, the good counterpart of a medieval witch. When circumstances force Bess to choose between keeping her gift above reproach, never using it to curse, and helping the ravished daughter of a dear friend, she sets in motion a downward spiral that destroys the sense of community in her Pendle town and ultimately brings her and her family under suspicion of witchcraft.

Sharratt has that rare gift of bringing long-ago times and people to life; mimicking carefully speech peculiarities of the time and even terms of endearment common amongst these people, the novel feels as authentic as if it were Bess and her granddaughter Alizon themselves telling the tale to us from beyond the grave. Readers will quickly become accustomed to words and turns of phrase and find themselves enthralled by this gritty yet magical picture of life on the fringes of respectable medieval English society.

Reading Daughters of the Witching Hill was especially interesting when taken into account that the Pilgrims were at this very time (about 1613) preparing their exodus to the New World, where eighty years later they would have their own set of witch hunts and trials. Did the Pilgrims hear stories of the Pendle witch hunts? Or did they perhaps sympathize with James I's fear of witchcraft, as recorded in his manual on "Daemonology"? Whatever the answer, the links there are rather compelling and the common elements--including children condemning adults to hanging--certainly warrant consideration of the connection.

Highly recommended to historical fiction buffs and average readers alike.