Hetalia: The Fifty Stars

Chapter 10: The Witch of Pungo

Virginia. The 10th state was seen as an older-sister figure among the states. When it comes to America, she was his "mother" of sorts whenever England was away from the continent during the Colonization Era. She was a pre-teen when she started raising America, yet she somehow managed to take care of him on her own despite the hardships she faced. One such hardship was the witch-hunts of the 17th century.

Unlike Massachusetts and the Salem Witch Trials, Virginia was fortunate not to have any innocent men and women die as a result of the escalating paranoia against the dark arts. However, there was a trial where one 'witch' was guilty of committing witchcraft. Her name was Grace Sherwood or the Witch of Pungo as she was most widely known.

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There was once an old woman who lived in the deep wood. She wore a beautiful, black dress and a pure white hood. She was a devoted spouse, even after his death. A wonderful mother, even after her last breath. She loved to go to the dark forest to gather herbs. It was there I found her, singing to the gray songbirds.

I asked the old woman, "Can you turn into a cat?"

She said, "No, I am a midwife. I am not a cat."

I asked the old woman, "Can you cast spells on any crop?"

She said, "No, I am a farmer. I plant many crops."

I asked the old woman, "Can you curse a lamb to death?"

She said, "No, I am a healer. I can prevent death."

I pursed my lips. "I heard you're a witch. Are you a witch?"

She gazed down at me. "I'm Grace Sherwood. I'm not a witch."

I looked into her eyes. "... I want to become a witch."

"I see." She offered her hand without the slightest twitch.

I took her hand, and we went into the dark forest. An innocent girl and her dear friend, Grace White Sherwood.

~

Grace Sherwood the midwife. A farmer and a healer of life. A widow living alone on her property. Her neighbors always made her a mockery. A lonely woman living at the edge of the wood. She will always be at home, my dear friend Sherwood.

Every day I visit the mature woman. Every day I sat on her red cushion. Cleaning a room and fetching a crop. Animals we groom and feeding them slop. Knowing and loving the woman since early childhood. If only the villagers felt the same toward Sherwood.

Richard Capps alleged she killed his bull. Hearing this, Sherwood said it was bull. Her husband once alive fought with her to defend their pride. The town court, however, couldn't decide the winning side. By settlement alone things were good. Unfortunately, this wasn't the end for Sherwood.

John Gisburne claimed she enchanted his cotton and pig. Hearing this, Sherwood thought his head to be backwards like his wig. Again, husband and wife called for defamation. The court, however, turned the suit to elimination. Nothing bad, nothing good. However, this wasn't the end for Sherwood.

At the same time, Elizabeth Barnes said Grace was a black cat. Entered her home, scratched her, and disappeared like a rat. The court thought the woman to be insane. Sherwood sued again, but her claim was restrained. So much money spent on courts, the couple understood. And yet, this wasn't the end for Sherwood.

Another Elizabeth, her neighbor, fought with the Sherwood. She and her husband attacked Grace like an axe to dogwood. The court would bring justice, twenty shillings for the Sherwood damage. But months later, Elizabeth Hill had a miscarriage. With her husband buried in the dirt, Grace appeared in court, alone she withstood. This was the beginning of the end for Sherwood.