Lament Witch Williamsburg In the charming town of Williamsburg, nestled between the historic Jamestown and Yorktown, there lies a tale of sorrow and tragedy. It is the story of the Lament Witch, a figure shrouded in mystery and darkness. Legend has it that in the early days of Williamsburg's settlement, there lived a woman named Agnes Hawthorne. She was known for her healing abilities and knowledge of herbs, which made her both revered and feared by the townsfolk. Agnes had a unique connection to nature and the spirits that dwelled in the surrounding forests. However, as time went on, suspicion and fear began to cloud the minds of the townspeople.
Colonial Williamsburg Foundation has asked itself that question, and its answer has been to redouble its efforts to tell a more complete story in partnership with First Baptist Church as it moves toward 2026 — the 250th anniversary of our nation and First Baptist Church and the 100th anniversary of Colonial Williamsburg. Most significant:
Now, the parking lot has been ripped up, and the archaeologists are digging away as they locate the foundations of the 1856 church and the much smaller building that originally housed the congregation. But then, when I started writing Sea Witch all those years back, I had already written a few historical novels and equally I had known nothing about living in post-Roman Britain or the eleventh century, nor what it was like to fight in an actual battle.
However, as time went on, suspicion and fear began to cloud the minds of the townspeople. They accused Agnes of witchcraft, believing that her powers were a threat to their way of life. With no evidence and fueled by paranoia, they formed a mob and sought to rid their town of the perceived threat.
Lament witch williamsburg
“For what ‘Lux Æterna’ most succeeds in is its capacity for a truly ecstatic horror“
As the lights dimmed at Brooklyn Horror Fest’s screening of Gaspar Noé’s Lux Æterna—the film’s US premiere—the unthinkable happened: my glasses broke. With no time to spare, I hung them uselessly from my shirt collar by their one remaining arm, gripped the world’s tiniest screw tightly between my fingers lest it roll into the oblivion of the Williamsburg Cinema, and prepared myself for a viewing unlike any other. And it certainly was: despite the film’s half-blur, Lux Æterna is far and away the best thing I’ve seen at the festival this year. With its chaotic double- (and sometimes triple-)split screen, raging film set chatter, and marvelous stroboscopic finish, I left the theater with an unexpected new conviction: to the bonfire with my glasses.
The film—an offering at the feet of C.T. Dreyer and his witch-hunt lament Day of Wrath (1943)—brings the witch-burning subgenre to new and maddening heights by throwing it headfirst into a dysfunctional film set. As director Béatrice Dalle (as herself) struggles to keep her production from careening towards disaster, the set assaults the viewer in its constant eruptions of anger and visual overstimulation. The screen, split down the middle, follows Béatrice screaming at press, her producers threatening her with revolt, her actresses shouting down costume designers, and rapacious hangers-on picking apart her and her lead actress, Charlotte Gainsbourg (also herself). Often, the split screen’s two cameras capture the same moment from different angles, an effect of one’s eyes darting around the room independent of one another, like marbles rolling in an empty head.
Image courtesy of Wild Bunch
One of these cameras belongs to an unknown intruder, stalking the film set and capturing Béatrice and her crew in their most vulnerable and exposed moments of rage, self-doubt, and anxiety (Béatrice, of course, attacks this man as well). As proxy for the viewer’s unwelcome gaze, this mysterious cameraman forms the lynchpin of the film’s underlying grand analogy: the treatment of women in the film industry—be they directors, leading actresses, or extras—is a purge, the exposure of their bodies and raw hearts much like the spectacle of a burning at the stake. Sure enough, Lux Æterna is structured around moments of feminine vulnerability: in the film’s opening sequence, Béatrice and Charlotte sit illuminated by a hearth discussing their respective sexual humiliations on the job; an extra (Abbey Lee) discovers that her shirt is see-through and, forced to wear it on camera, she threatens the costume team with legal action; a crew member walks in on Charlotte as she learns a piece of truly horrific news about her daughter. In its presentation of camera as voyeur getting off on the suffering of Béatrice and her actresses, Lux Æterna associates the cinematic regard with the spectacle of a witch burning, gobbling up misogynistic entertainment at the expense of another’s pain.
Image courtesy of Wild Bunch
And yet against all odds, the crew breaks through this madness: Charlotte and the extras mount the stage and stand ready to be burned. In the film’s—and perhaps the entire festival’s—most paralyzing sequence, the set’s lighting elements go haywire, subjecting the cast and crew to an intolerable multicolored flicker. In the reverie of emotional agitation and visual hypnosis that follows, Charlotte’s true terror is eagerly captured by the production’s cinematographer, her cries of fear punctuated by his encouragements to perform fear. The set’s smoke machines and accelerating stroboscopic barrage taking the place of the purifying flame, the reels continue to turn on Charlotte’s anguish. “You’re burning!” the DP cries; on a symbolic level, he’s right. For what Lux Æterna most succeeds in is its capacity for a truly ecstatic horror, its violent hypnagogia taking the place of the spiritual assumption of death, a moment far too holy for anyone but its sufferer to stop the cameras from capturing. “Bonfires,” Béatrice says to Charlotte at the beginning of the film, “are so sexy.” Not in any erotic sense, but in a way at once much more sacred and much more base: in the burning of the witch, after all, exists both the revelatory last gasp and the charred corpse on the pyre.
Dir: Gaspar Noé
Prod: Gary Farkas, Lucile Hadžihalilović, Anthony Vaccarello
Cast: Béatrice Dalle, Charlotte Gainsbourg, Abbey Lee
Release Date: 18th May, 2019 (France)
Available: TBA
Trailer:
Images courtesy of Wild Bunch.
GALLOWS WAKE: The Sixth Voyage of Captain Jesamiah Acorne by Helen Hollick
Agnes was captured and taken to the outskirts of the town, where she was tied to a stake. The flames engulfed her, but her spirit refused to submit to the darkness. In her final moments, Agnes unleashed a curse upon Williamsburg, vowing that her sorrow would haunt the town for eternity. Since that fateful day, the presence of the Lament Witch has lingered in Williamsburg. Some claim to have witnessed a ghostly figure roaming the streets at night, while others speak of hearing her mournful cries carried by the wind. The curse has brought misfortune and tragedy to the town, with some believing that it is Agnes's way of exacting revenge on those who wronged her. The Lament Witch has become a part of Williamsburg's folklore, serving as a cautionary tale of the dangers of ignorance and fear. Many residents pay homage to Agnes by leaving offerings of flowers and herbs at the site of her execution, hoping to appease her restless spirit. While the truth behind the story of the Lament Witch may remain unknown, her presence continues to shape the town's narrative. The tale serves as a reminder to the residents of Williamsburg to embrace acceptance and understanding, rather than succumbing to fear and prejudice. As visitors explore the historical streets of Williamsburg, they may catch a glimpse of the Lament Witch, a somber reminder of a dark chapter in the town's history. Whether one believes in her existence or not, the legend of the Lament Witch will forever be intertwined with the fabric of Williamsburg, haunting its streets and captivating the imaginations of those who hear her mournful cries..
Reviews for "The Lament Witch's Spell: Delving into Williamsburg's Supernatural History"
1. John - 1-star rating:
"I found 'Lament Witch Williamsburg' to be a disappointing read. The plot was weak and predictable, with no real depth or complexity. The characters were one-dimensional and lacked any real development. The writing style was also quite amateurish, with awkward prose and stilted dialogue. Overall, I was very underwhelmed by this book and would not recommend it to others."
2. Sarah - 2-star rating:
"I had high hopes for 'Lament Witch Williamsburg,' but unfortunately, it fell short. The story seemed promising at first, but quickly became confusing and disjointed. The author attempted to introduce too many elements and characters without properly developing them. The pacing was uneven, making it difficult to fully engage with the narrative. Additionally, the writing lacked polish and finesse, with many grammatical errors and awkward syntax. It's a shame because the concept had potential, but the execution left much to be desired."
3. Michael - 2.5-star rating:
"'Lament Witch Williamsburg' had an interesting premise, but it failed to deliver. The world-building was weak, leaving me with more questions than answers. The protagonist lacked personality and agency, making it hard to root for her. The pacing was slow and the plot felt disjointed, with too many unnecessary subplots. I appreciate the author's attempt at creating a unique story, but the execution fell flat for me. Overall, I found it to be a mediocre read."
4. Emily - 1.5-star rating:
"I found 'Lament Witch Williamsburg' to be a tedious and unremarkable book. The characters were uninspiring, and their actions felt forced and unnatural. The writing style was dry and lacked emotion, making it hard for me to connect with the story. The plot was convoluted and poorly executed, leaving me feeling confused and disinterested. Overall, I wouldn't recommend this book to anyone looking for a captivating and well-written read."