Carillon Magazine

 "A believe thee," said I."A believe in thee Hannah Beedham o' Hagworm's Nest. Thi shall travel wi' me t' Kelfield, t' prepare for thi death in't dignity thy deserves."

 The throng stared at me as if I was some kind of madman. Undeterred I proclaimed, "Listen t' the Prophetess o' York. Listen and thou shall hear."

 The Prophetess seemed not to hear my proclamation and addressed the crowd with extraordinary zeal, " I, Hannah Beedham have walked beside God Almighty. A said t' Him, 'Have a died and come t' thee sweet Lord? He smiled a smile brighter than the sun and spoke thus,  No Hannah Beedham thi time hasn't arrived upon thee yet."  Being curious by nature a asked,' When shall that time be, sweet Lord? He answered, The first day o' the eighth month at nine o'clock."

I called out again, "Come wi' me, Prophetess. Come t' my farm at Kelfield, away from this doubting York, away from thy hovel."

"Away from the gin bottle," shouted thin face.

"Nay, come hither Hannah Beedham t' my bed chamber, said red hair. I refused to be swayed and shouted proudly," Come wi me, James Sturdy o' Kelfield, t' my house and home. There thy shall die at the appointed hour wi' due dignity."

"Aye, a shall travel wi' thee, James Sturdy," said the woman, "Thy be a man o' good faith. A good man. Thy shall reap thy reward in heaven."

"A fool he be," said red hair, "a fool thy be James Sturdy - a lovesick fool. The witch hath cursed thee."

Hannah Beedham climbed down from the cart and duly travelled with my party to my home at Kelfield, to spend the Christmas and the rest of her life, to die within my household and to do me that honour.

How sweet it was to have someone that had walked beside Him so close, to tell of his great glory on that day of days and yet how sad to know that her life would be so short.

 That Christmas is one I shall always remember, but it is the June of the following year that will be remembered more by the people of Kelfield, York and farther afield. People read of, or were told of the young woman that had predicted the date of her own death, and they came to see Hannah Beedham for themselves. The ferryman and the inn-keeper had never known better times and those, and there were many, that could not find shelter camped out in the fields and many a farmer's turnip field was picked clean to provide sustenance for the pilgrims.

Hannah grew paler almost by the day and gradually ate less, drank less and talked less and took to her death bed by the middle of May.

I remember the first day of June all too well. I will not go into great detail but must confess that it is the only time in my life that I have ever been asked to administer poison to a fellow human being. Something that I refused to do though not doing so made me, a man famed for his pride, look ridiculous in the extreme and Hannah Beedham of Hagworm's Nest a liar.  And yet I still believe that sorrowful creature had her wonderful vision and that her not dying was indeed a punishment for my foolish pride.

Issue 14 (cont)