When the preacher paused to let his audience consider the question, I realized that Joseph had commissioned this sermon as surely as he had commissioned the pamphlets that now flooded the city. Together the pamphlets and sermons would drive the city into a state of alarm, and once the fear had reached its peak, Joseph would begin his witch-hunt. He would offer the people a fire that would cleanse the city of all malignancy.
As I looked at the crowd around me, I prayed that my friends and neighbors would not fall under this mountebank’s spell. But by the look on their fevered faces and the angry glint in their eyes, I knew that the minister’s words had done their job. York’s residents would do the minister’s bidding. The only question was, what would he demand of them?
“I can tell from looking at you, my dear people, that you see the threat that lies within the city, and for this I am glad. But you must now wonder how you can discover these witches, women of supreme cunning who—with Satan’s aid—have hidden themselves in the city.”
A few in the audience nodded their heads.
“I must tell you, the discovery of witches is no easy thing,” the minister continued. “And it is not to be entered into lightly. Nor is it the duty of the common man to punish witches. If you find one, you must stay your hand from action.”
The preacher paused, and I could see looks of puzzlement on his listeners’ faces. If they could not act, then what could they do?
“While you shall not punish the witches yourselves, it is your duty, yea your sacred obligation, to find them out and to acquaint the Justices of the Peace with their names. And once you have done your part, you may be assured that your city’s magistrates will do theirs. Once you have found Satan’s sirens, his temptresses, his murderesses, the Justices will see them tried and punished. The Lord would not have it otherwise.”
Cries of Amen! Amen! echoed through the rafters of the church, but to my ears the parishoners were crying up not the glory of God but the shameful ambition of sinful men.
“And as to the punishment, there can be no doubt.” The minister’s voice fell to a whisper, and all the parishioners leaned forward in their seats, desperate to hear every word. “The Lord demands that every witch, truly convicted, is to be punished with death.”
Heads nodded in grim determination. They would follow the minister’s instructions to the letter. When the service finally ended, the four of us hurried up Stonegate fighting the wind with each step. Elizabeth skipped ahead with Hannah close behind, while Martha and I trailed after so we could talk.
“It seems that Joseph is building a solid foundation for his witch-hunt,” Martha said.
“I can’t imagine ours is the only parish to which he has gifted such a sermon,” I said. “By the time he is done, Joseph will have made the entire city into his deputies. The people will find the witches, and he will hang them.”
“He’s making the people into his allies,” Martha agreed. “Once they have joined with him in hunting and hanging witches, what power will they deny him?”
I did not reply. Rather, I wondered how we might escape the coming storm.
Chapter 7
The next morning Martha and I were called to the travail of Lucy Pierce, and my mind thus was blessedly drawn from witchcraft and death to childbirth and new life. Lucy lived just outside the city in Upper Poppleton where her husband owned a few acres of land and rented some more. All told, he was able to provide well enough for his young wife, and the two of them lived in a small, well-built house north of the city wall.
In Lucy’s chamber, heavy curtains covered the windows, keeping out the worst of the wind, and with a fire roaring in the hearth we were more than warm enough. When Martha and I entered, the women greeted us and then fell silent as I examined Lucy. I found that her labor had not yet begun in earnest, so the half dozen women who had gathered in the birthing room returned to gossiping.
When the talk turned to witches, witch-hunting, and the previous day’s sermons, it became clear that Joseph had indeed paid for sermons to be preached against witches throughout the city; the women came from different parishes, but all had heard the same sermon. No less disturbing was the fact that Joseph’s plan seemed to be working. While a few women were apprehensive about the hunt, most seemed eager to have it.
“Mr. Hodgson and Mrs. Hooke will rid us of the scourge of witches, they will,” said Sarah Crompton.
“By the time they are finished, Mother Lee won’t trouble us any longer,” Grace Hewitt replied.
“Aye,” said another woman. “And if any woman can find the Devil’s Mark, it’s Rebecca Hooke.”