Two curious young men, aged 7 and 10, joined me on the search for the place where Grace Sherwood's fate was sealed. We walked down an old path now named "Witch Duck Road," following her steps to the banks of Lynnhaven River where she was tied up in a ritualized way. A rope was crossbound from the thumb of her right hand to the big toe of her left foot and from the thumb of her left hand to the big toe of her right foot. If that wasn't enough to sink her, the godly folk suspended a 13-pound Bible around her neck.
Even for young grandsons fascinated by tales of Houdini escaping from bonds of chains and safes, these knots and weights made escape sound difficult. We rapidly turned the pages of our guide to learn that Grace broke free of her ropes and swam to shore. So far, so bad. She had escaped with her life, but that only proved that Satan inhabited her body. She spent almost seven years in prison on conviction of sorcery.
This summer, three centuries later, Gov. Kaine of Virginia has pardoned her. "With 300 years of hindsight, we all certainly can agree that trial by water is an injustice," the governor said, and reached for a modern political moral. "We also can celebrate the fact that a woman's equality is constitutionally protected today, and women have the freedom to pursue their hopes and dreams."
Grace Sherwood would still be an unpardoned witch but for Belinda Nash, who researched the story for 20 years and nagged the current governor for a pardon. She thought of asking Mark Warner, the former governor, but she calculated that his presidential aspirations might make him loath even to deal with such an arcane issue. And what if he said no? That would be flirting with a hex, and who wants to offend a 300-year-old witch?