go_exchange | Happy Holidays, onetbls! Part 2

A Visual Treatise on the Material Remains of Witches in the County of Lancaster
Part 2

There was still mist in the air when Anathema set off in the morning, parting around her bicycle in swirling waves. The non-essential crew had been allowed to sleep in; their call time was seven.

They'd set up base camp at the village community centre's activity area, which was one of those barn-like buildings that sprung up around village greens and large parks. This one boasted pale teal and mauve accent stripes across its white concrete block sides, giving off a sort of 1993 disposable paper cup aura, albeit one that had been colonized by thick black cables and hand-carts loaded with all manner of equipment.

Anathema locked her bicycle to the rack by the car park, unstrapped her work bags and wove her way between SUVs and lorries to head over to the sign-in desk. There a dead-eyed tech checked her ID and handed her a badge with RESEARCHER printed on it, along with a handful of print-outs.

"Look for the table with your name on it," he said. "Once you're set up, there's tea and coffee and breakfast in the kitchenette, which is through the main area and over to the left. Morning meeting's going to be in…" He checked his watch. "15 minutes."

The space was a positive maze of rectangular tables and folding chairs, laptop cables and lamps. Dig crew members waited around, drinking their caffeine with the hazy expressions of people awake several hours earlier than they were accustomed to, while the tech crew darted between them, shouting at each other in a kind of half-code. She smiled and waved at Melissa and Gavin, and eventually found the table that had "A. DEVICE" written on a piece of masking tape. Someone had left a black bag with cables trailing out of it on the table, and a tech swung by and swooped it away without a word.

Anathema put her bags on the table, and looked around. She wasn't quite sure what she was supposed to be setting up for. Her work was done already, submitted and analysed and incorporated into the script for the episode, unlike a lot of the researchers here, who had contextual evidence and ideas lined up, but were ultimately waiting on the dig to dive into their projects. Still, she opened up her laptop and got connected to the wireless internet they'd set up, apparently after multiple years of complaints about being unable to access research library catalogues remotely, or so said one of the object technicians.

That done, she went in search of tea, which was plentiful, and came with pastries. Grabbing a croissant, Anathema followed the others out onto the green, where the crew was congregating around a man standing on top of a crate.

"Good morning!" He hollered. "I hope everyone can hear me!"

There were nods and murmurs.

"Good, good. So as I hope all of you already know, welcome to day 1 of the Malkin Tower dig!" He paused for scattered, absentminded applause. "For those of you who don't know me, I'm Mark, the production coordinator for this dig. For those of you who do know me, I'm so sorry."

A few people laughed, but by and large the caffeine had yet to kick in. Mark forged on regardless. "Geophys has already started off at two sites: the local team is over at Sadler's Farm here in Newchurch, and the away team is surveying the Blacko Hill site. We've got two other sites on deck, should neither of those pan out. We'll keep you updated as the day goes on."

He paused, and clapped his hands. "Alright! Excellent. Specialists, we'll be coming around to each of you once Tony's back from the Blacko Hill site, and we'll start on filming your bits. Anna Thema, we'll be wanting you first since we've only got the local historian around for another hour and we'd really like to introduce you two, get some scenes together, the whole shebang. The rest of you, please have everything you'll need ready - if you've got any talking points for Tony, make sure they make it to Natasha beforehand."

He checked his watch. "That's all, everyone. Thanks so much, you'll be great. Like I said, I'll keep you updated with what's going on at the dig sites. Once things start coming out of the ground, object techs, you'll be free to go start poking around, but if you could please, please, let myself or Melissa know before you leave base camp that would be great."

He clapped his hands again. "Thanks again, everyone. Enjoy!"

The man jumped down off the crate, and turned towards his trio of assistants. Anathema finished the last bite of her pastry, and tried to quash the anxiety crawling up her throat. There really was no reason to be nervous - she presented at conferences often enough. She used to give museum tours, during grad school, and there was nothing they could come up with that was any weirder than what came out of the imaginations of bored primary school students.

The feeling remained nonetheless. Anathema took a sip of her tea, and marched over.

"Excuse me," Anathema interrupted, as politely as she could manage. "You wanted to see me? I'm Anathema Device."

Mark turned around, the assistants turning with him. "Oh, is that how you say it? So more like Anastasia than Anastaysia. Is it Russian?"

"Er," said Anathema, falling back on a lifetime of well-worn embarrassment. "No."

"Interesting," said Mark, with a face that provided zero support for the argument. "So we'd like to get your scene out of the way now, like I said. Clarissa, can you take her over to the locals? It's not far. Bring Derek with you, he's not doing anything yet. Dennis should already be there with Tony, or should be there soon enough."

"Can do," said Clarissa, who immediately started herding Anathema back to the base camp like she was a stray sheep.

"Pick up anything you'll need. Basic context, family history, that kind of thing. Any maps, notes, family photos, whatever - bring that with. No laptop, you can leave that here," she instructed, and Anathema obediently put it on her chair and threw her raincoat over it. "Derek!"

Clarissa loaded Anathema and the erstwhile Derek - a tall man with a camera strapped to his chest and a failure of a beard - onto a golf cart, and then over to the Newchurch dig site. There they met Belinda, a local historian, and apparently one of the people who had initially contacted Channel 4. Belinda was built along the usual mold for local historians, in Anathema's experience; middle-aged white women with more enthusiasm than critical thinking, and wearing a scarf with some kind of ditsy print on it. Belinda's weapon of choice was a Cath Kidston scarf, a blue-and-pink floral, and Anathema knew with deep, sudden certainty that Belinda was the kind of enthusiastic local who called her book club a coven. With Belinda was the man himself, Newt's favourite, Mr. Tony Robinson. Anathema tried not to laugh.

A few crew members walked over, and Tony made sure everyone was introduced to Belinda and Anathema. One of them turned out to be the assistant director, who was going to walk them through the scene, and make sure that they were staying on track.

They stood around for a few moments, while Clarissa went over the general ideas for the conversation with the AD and Tony, and the camera crew got set up. Almost before Anathema knew it, they had been positioned in front of one of the local businesses - making sure, of course, that the novelty witch-themed décor was visible in the background - and someone was waving a clapper board around.

"Speed," said one tech.

"Rolling," answered another, and the board clapped.

"So can you tell me, Belinda," Tony Robinson began, "A bit more about the Pendle witch trials."

Belinda cleared her throat and adjusted her scarf. "The Pendle witch trials were one of the most famous incidents of witches in England, in the early seventeenth century. Twelve people were accused of being witches, and ten of them were hanged for it. The reason they're so famous," she went on, "was that the clerk of the court wrote a book about the whole thing. There really weren't a lot of people in England actually executed for the crime of witchcraft, so it's a really remarkable and horrible moment in history."

"Is that correct, Anathema?" Tony Robinson asked, turning to face her.

"Yes," she said. "In total, only 500 people were ever executed for witchcraft in England, so the 1612 trials of the Pendle witches - and the Samlesbury witches, who were tried during the same session of the Lancaster Assizes - represents an unusually large number of convictions and executions. Typically, English witch trials resulted in lesser sentences or in not guilty verdicts. For comparison, the number of witches executed in Scotland during the same period is an estimated fifteen hundred people. On the continent, it's much higher, with the number of people executed for witchcraft estimated to be about fifty thousand people."

"Fifty thousand?" said Tony, incredulously. "That's horrible. And people really believed in witches?"

"They did," said Belinda. "It was something people really, truly believed in. People at the time were very religious, but in a different way than people are today. They really, actively saw the world around them as manipulated by divine and occult forces. So if something good happened, that could be attributed to the power of a blessing or a prayer, while if something bad happened, that had to be the work of the Devil. And who consorts with the devil?"

"Witches," Tony laughed.

"Exactly!" said Belinda, adopting a horrible, nasal voice. "Devilish, maleficent witches."

"Now, Anathema," said Tony, once Belinda's fake cackling died down. "I hear you have a special connection to this area, and to the Pendle witches. Is that true?"

"It is," Anathema said. "My father's family, the Devices, was originally from Pendle, and in fact, several of them were executed for witchcraft during the seventeenth century. Three of them were charged as part of the Pendle trials, and eventually found guilty."

"And burnt at the stake?" Tony asked.

"No, they were hanged," Anathema replied. "Being burnt at the stake was not very common as a punishment for witchcraft in England. Witchcraft was considered a felony, so hanging was the appropriate method. Burning was much more popular in Scotland, as well as France and Switzerland, which is where a lot of our modern stereotypes about witch burning originate."

Tony and Belinda nodded, and then Tony asked, "Are you excited about finding the place your ancestors used to live?"

"I am, actually. My family has a lot of documentary history, but we don't actually know where their home was located," said Anathema. "It's an important piece of the puzzle, and I hope the team can find something over the next three days."

"Cut!" shouted the AD. "That was great."

"Yeah, that was fantastic," agreed Tony. "Are you sure you haven't done this before?"

Anathema flushed. "Oh god, was that okay? I was so nervous. Do you need me to do it again?"

"No, it's fine," the AD said. "You did a good job. Very clear, very steady. Just what we need."

"I had to do it again," Belinda said, sounding a little put out.

"Thanks," Anathema said, running her hands through her fringe. "Is that all for now?"

"Yep," said the AD. "Clarissa will take you back."

"It's okay," she answered. "I'll walk. I know the way."

"Nope," said Clarissa. "Not until you're released for the day. We've got to keep tabs on everyone."

"Even Stewart," Tony added.

Anathema sighed, and followed Clarissa back to the golf cart.

After that, Anathema's existence promptly dropped off the production management's radar. She spent a few hours in the base camp, rather expecting someone to come looking for her at some point, but no one did. She re-read her notes on the project, and she chatted a bit with some of the others. She ate lunch, which was catered - of course they had catering, and they even had vegetarian options. Base camp stayed surprisingly low activity; a few of the object technicians had gone off to the actual sites, but the half-dozen or so finds and historical experts stuck around, forgotten.

At one point Anathema started to wonder if something had gone horribly wrong, and she'd asked Marguerite, who was a finds expert, if this was normal.

"Yeah, this is normal," she told Anathema. "Day one's always a bit rubbish. This one's slower than usual, at least for me. Means they haven't found any solid evidence of habitation yet. Usually they call me over once they start getting the good stuff, to clean it and photograph it. But no one's called me yet, so…" She shrugged. "Probably just bricks and faunal. Don't need a ceramics person for bricks and faunal."

"So we just…wait?" Anathema asked.

"Pretty much." And that was that.

At three, it started to drizzle, and there was a brief flurry of activity as the tech crew hurried to get anything important and/or electrical under cover. A few of the golf carts were packed up in a hurry, with tents and buckets and tarps for the dig sites. It waffled a bit, raining heavier and lighter in turns, but by half 5 Mark was back, standing on his crate and calling everyone to attention. The digs weren't going well, but nothing unexpected. They were closing down the Blacko Hill site, and Stewart - the landscape archaeologist and lone wolf - had identified a possible second Blacko site at Malkin Tower Farm. That earned a few chuckles, but apparently that was another wildly inaccurate local legend as geophys and some test pits showed nothing. They were going to keep investigating the Newchurch site, and tomorrow morning they would have Geophys survey the other two possible sites. Oh, and they could all sleep in until 8 tomorrow, which earned Mark a round of cheers.

Next: Day 2! (Part 3)