watched Elizabeth as she raced across High Petergate and down Stonegate, wisps of red hair trailing behind her, and felt an ache in my heart. For the first time since Birdy died, I’d begun to feel the hope and fear that is part of being a parent in this fallen world. We could love our little ones with all our hearts, but love could not protect them from a God who took the young so often and without any warning. I took a breath to gather myself and began the walk to George Breary’s house.
When I arrived, George’s servant ushered me into his office right away. He and Will sat at a large table surrounded by sheets of figures and piles of letters. They both stood when I entered, and they greeted me warmly. George sent his servant for spiced wine to warm me from the cold, and I handed him the pamphlet. He and Will read it while I drank my wine. I sighed in contentment as the warmth spread through my body.
After a few minutes, Will looked back at the cover and noticed the imprimatur. “Printed by order of the Lord Mayor and Aldermen?”
“I’m an Alderman, and I knew nothing of it,” George said, answering the first question on my mind. “What does this mean?”
“This is part of Joseph’s scheme,” I said. “I questioned the printer, and he said a man with three fingers brought him the book for printing.”
“Mark Preston,” Will and George said simultaneously.
I nodded. Preston had fought with Joseph in the wars and then had followed him to York after each of them had been wounded. Before Edward died, Preston had spent a few months in his service, but now he was Joseph’s dog, and a vicious one at that. Only the Lord knew how many men Preston had killed at Joseph’s behest, either in the wars or after.
George furrowed his brow in thought. “So Joseph is behind this pamphlet, but to what end?”
“He intends to bring a witch-hunt to York,” I replied. “But he is as careful now as he was when he fought with Cromwell’s cavalry. He knows to test the enemy before attacking, and that is what he has done with the city. Hester Jackson was his stalking horse, for her case would tell him whether the citizens would hang an ill-mannered old woman as a witch. When Hester’s neighbors turned against her, he had his answer.”
“And the pamphlet?” George asked.
“It is the first cannon-shot of the battle itself. He wants to be sure the citizens’ blood is boiling when the hunt begins. Nothing is left to chance. He is being as deliberate as the devil himself.”
“That makes sense,” George said. “Joseph has called for a special meeting of the Council tonight. He’s not said what it concerns, except that it is an urgent and secret matter.”
“He is going to call for a witch-hunt,” I said.
George nodded. “The battle is joined.”
“I should like to be at the meeting,” I said.
George looked at me in surprise. “Why?”
“If Joseph is intent on bringing a witch-hunt to York, it concerns me. The fate of the city’s women is my business—it always has been.”
George started to respond, but I held up my hand to silence him.
“There is more,” I said. “Rebecca Hooke will have a place in Joseph’s plan, and she has compassed my destruction for years. I am in as much danger as anyone.”
George nodded. “The Council will gather tonight at seven. Meet me at the hall at six, and we will find you a hiding place. It might not be comfortable, but you should be able to hear well enough.”
I thanked George for his assistance and started for home. Though I would not have imagined it possible, the wind seemed to blow even harder, and it cut through my cloak as if the garment were made of delicate silk rather than heavy Yorkshire wool. As I passed by some of the city’s poorer tenements, I marveled at the suffering of those living within. Between ill-fitting doors and crumbling plaster, the buildings would provide as little warmth as my cloak. Such thoughts took my mind to Elizabeth’s
When I arrived, George’s servant ushered me into his office right away. He and Will sat at a large table surrounded by sheets of figures and piles of letters. They both stood when I entered, and they greeted me warmly. George sent his servant for spiced wine to warm me from the cold, and I handed him the pamphlet. He and Will read it while I drank my wine. I sighed in contentment as the warmth spread through my body.
After a few minutes, Will looked back at the cover and noticed the imprimatur. “Printed by order of the Lord Mayor and Aldermen?”
“I’m an Alderman, and I knew nothing of it,” George said, answering the first question on my mind. “What does this mean?”
“This is part of Joseph’s scheme,” I said. “I questioned the printer, and he said a man with three fingers brought him the book for printing.”
“Mark Preston,” Will and George said simultaneously.
I nodded. Preston had fought with Joseph in the wars and then had followed him to York after each of them had been wounded. Before Edward died, Preston had spent a few months in his service, but now he was Joseph’s dog, and a vicious one at that. Only the Lord knew how many men Preston had killed at Joseph’s behest, either in the wars or after.
George furrowed his brow in thought. “So Joseph is behind this pamphlet, but to what end?”
“He intends to bring a witch-hunt to York,” I replied. “But he is as careful now as he was when he fought with Cromwell’s cavalry. He knows to test the enemy before attacking, and that is what he has done with the city. Hester Jackson was his stalking horse, for her case would tell him whether the citizens would hang an ill-mannered old woman as a witch. When Hester’s neighbors turned against her, he had his answer.”
“And the pamphlet?” George asked.
“It is the first cannon-shot of the battle itself. He wants to be sure the citizens’ blood is boiling when the hunt begins. Nothing is left to chance. He is being as deliberate as the devil himself.”
“That makes sense,” George said. “Joseph has called for a special meeting of the Council tonight. He’s not said what it concerns, except that it is an urgent and secret matter.”
“He is going to call for a witch-hunt,” I said.
George nodded. “The battle is joined.”
“I should like to be at the meeting,” I said.
George looked at me in surprise. “Why?”
“If Joseph is intent on bringing a witch-hunt to York, it concerns me. The fate of the city’s women is my business—it always has been.”
George started to respond, but I held up my hand to silence him.
“There is more,” I said. “Rebecca Hooke will have a place in Joseph’s plan, and she has compassed my destruction for years. I am in as much danger as anyone.”
George nodded. “The Council will gather tonight at seven. Meet me at the hall at six, and we will find you a hiding place. It might not be comfortable, but you should be able to hear well enough.”
I thanked George for his assistance and started for home. Though I would not have imagined it possible, the wind seemed to blow even harder, and it cut through my cloak as if the garment were made of delicate silk rather than heavy Yorkshire wool. As I passed by some of the city’s poorer tenements, I marveled at the suffering of those living within. Between ill-fitting doors and crumbling plaster, the buildings would provide as little warmth as my cloak. Such thoughts took my mind to Elizabeth’s
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