“What is your plea?” the clerk asked.
“Not guilty.” Mother Lee’s voice echoed through the hall with surprising strength.
I did not for a moment think the plea meant much. The trial was not about determining guilt or innocence. It was a play to show all the world, and God as well, that the city’s magistrates had taken up arms against Satan and were marching under the Lord’s standard.
“The first witness!” The judge’s voice creaked like a wooden axle one turn from breaking.
The prosecutor stepped forward. His clothes made clear his wealth, and he preened before the crowd like a peacock: a fine wool cloak layered over a blue silken doublet, leather boots in the latest style, turned down just below the knee to show expensive silk stockings. He was quite a creature. The first few witnesses were Mother Lee’s neighbors from Upper Poppleton. Some had been present when I delivered Lucy Pierce, and some had not, but all told the same story. Mother Lee had long been suspected of trafficking with the Devil. She had cursed her neighbors’ crops, their cows, their sheep, their butter churns, their ale pans. And finally, she had bewitched Lucy Pierce’s son, and he died even before he’d been born. Lucy herself told the jury of this crime, and they hung on every word as if it might be the last they’d ever hear.
And then it was my turn. I strode to the front of the room and stood next to the bench. I had no illusions that I could do anything to change the course of the proceedings, but my heart hammered in my chest all the same.
“Lady Hodgson,” the prosecutor began. “You delivered Lucy Pierce of a stillborn child, did you not?”
“Yes,” I replied. Better to say as little as possible, I thought.
“How would you describe the child?”
I knew the answer he sought, of course. He wanted me to say that the child’s death had been unlike any I had ever seen, and thus unnatural. If he could show the jury that the child’s death had been unnatural, he’d have won the day; witchcraft was the only other possible cause.
“Mrs. Pierce had reached her full term,” I replied. “The child had his fingernails, which happens just before birth.”
The prosecutor grimaced. He’d been hoping for a bit more cooperation from me. I could also see some of Lucy Pierce’s friends looking at each other and whispering behind their hands.
“Have you ever seen a birth such as Mrs. Pierce’s?” the prosecutor asked.
“A stillborn birth? Of course. I’ve been a midwife for many years, and attended hundreds of women in their travail. It is the Lord’s will that some children live while others die.” The prosecutor seemed to have developed a twitch near his left eye. He looked at Joseph, unsure how to proceed. Joseph’s only reply was a slight shrug. I warned you about her, it seemed to say.
“Lady Hodgson, was the death of Lucy Pierce’s child natural or unnatural?”
“It was the Lord’s will,” I replied. “The devil can do nothing on this earth without His permission.”
The prosecutor furrowed his brow at my answer. While it was undoubtedly true (for who would deny God’s omnipotence?), it did turn the jury’s eyes away from Mother Lee. After a moment’s consideration, he crossed the room to consult with Joseph. He whispered in Joseph’s ear and nodded in Martha’s direction.
Joseph’s eyes bulged.
“No, you shouldn’t call her. Not if you have a brain in your head,” he hissed. “She’s worse than her mistress.”
I had to suppress a smile.
“Thank you, Lady Hodgson, that is all,” the prosecutor said. He did not sound particularly thankful. I returned to Martha’s side, and she offered a hint of a smile.
“Mrs. Rebecca Hooke!” the bailiff called out, and I felt my stomach drop. Of course she would appear—she had searched Mother Lee’s body—but I had been so concerned with my own testimony I’d not thought on it.
Rebecca strode forward from the rear of the hall and took her place where I’d stood just moments before.
“You inspected the body of the accused witch, did you not?”
“Yes, my lord, I did,” Rebecca replied. Her voice echoed strong and clear through the hall.
“And what did you find?”
“It was a difficult search, my lord,” Rebecca replied. “At first she refused to be inspected.” She paused to let the jury consider what such resistance might mean. Would an innocent woman refuse to be searched? “When we stripped her bare, I found three long teats in her secret parts. They seemed to have been sucked of late.”
The prosecutor nodded in satisfaction. “And what do you think those teats were?”