The Wise Woman of Wakefield Janet Benton was old.
Janet Benton was poor.
Janet Benton lived in a cottage on the edge of the farm known as Bunny Hall.
She lived there with her son,
George Benton.
George Benton was a retired soldier.
George Benton had a temper.
George Benton muttered to himself and punched walls when he was angry.
George Benton,
They said,
Knew his mother's ways.
And that made them both a little dangerous.
Because,
You see,
Everyone knew not to cross Janet Benton.
An old woman living far away from everyone else,
In a cottage at the edge of a farm,
An old woman who knew her way around remedies.
Janet Benton,
People whispered.
I was a witch.
But the farmer whose field they lived nearby around Newton Hill,
Richard Jackson,
Was not a superstitious man.
And he didn't care about Jennet or her son's reputations.
He only cared about using the land and on his land there was a pathway,
A public pathway,
That the local people used to visit Jennet and that she used to visit town.
Richard Jackson closed it down.
No more rise of when here,
He said.
This is farmland,
And the people had to go the long route to see old Mother Benton for her remedies.
But Janet and George refused to walk the long way and they continued using the old path.
It was their right of way after all.
Farmer Jackson scowled at his word not being law and sent his man to stop the old woman and her son.
There was a fight.
Jackson's man lost two teeth.
So,
Farmer Jackson had the Bentons charged for trespass.
And these two poor folk,
Truly,
Truly poor,
Were forced to pay the wealthy farmer his dues.
The pathway across the farm was closed.
After a little while,
Jackson began to think.
He began to think about the things people whispered.
The things they whispered about Janet and her son.
And on his way back from Wakefield Market,
Jackson visited the old witch.
G'day,
Old Mother Benton,
He said.
The old woman ignored him and stirred her cauldron.
I wish to be on good grace with my neighbours,
" said Jackson,
And presented Janet Benton with a gift of a red kirtle.
Janet stared at the dress.
A good way you have of proving that,
She said,
Prosecuting them for walking the ways of their ancestors.
Come,
" said the farmer,
Losing his patience and proffering the kirtle again.
I want not your friendship,
Richard Jackson,
Said the old woman,
And she took the kirtle and ripped it to pieces for the restoration of my rights and the rights of my son.
I tell you the truth,
Within a 12 month and a day,
You shall know regret.
Now,
Richard Jackson was not a superstitious man.
And so he rode home,
Shaking his head at the foolish old woman.
When he got home,
He called to his wife.
You won't believe what the old woman on the edge of the field said to me.
His wife didn't seem to notice him and carried on chopping vegetables in the kitchen.
I say,
You won't believe what the old woman said to me.
" His wife did not turn to Richard's voice.
He said her name again,
A second and a third time,
Until at last she turned,
Shocked to see him there at all.
Because she hadn't heard him.
She hadn't heard him come in.
She hadn't heard him talking to her.
She hadn't heard him walk up behind her,
Asking her what was wrong.
She couldn't hear anything.
She couldn't hear anything for a day and a night.
And from that moment on,
Things were strange for Jackson.
Furniture began moving from one room to another.
Jackson would go to bed,
The table where it was meant to be,
And awake the next morning to find it in another room altogether.
A herd of pigs broke their way out of a barn and ran miles and miles away.
Only a few were ever found.
Jackson heard music from nowhere and felt as if his body were being drawn apart by horses.
Servants fled his service from the fields and the house.
Eighteen of his horses and cattle died.
For 12 months and a day,
Jackson had nothing but bad luck.
And now he believes in curses alright.
And he took old mother Benton and her son to York,
Where he accused them both.
Witchcraft.
Janet laughed when questioned.
I call down the wrath of heaven,
She said,
As anyone faced with the cruel persecution of a helpless widow might.
And if God has sent him calamity,
It is surely not my doing.
And so it was that the court deliberated.
They weighed up the evidence.
They considered the word of the wealthy farmer Jackson,
Not quite so wealthy anymore,
And the poor ancient woman.
I looked into her eyes,
Hard as flint.
And they acquitted Janet Benton and her son George.
Not guilty.
They said.
And that is the story of the wise woman of Wakefield and her right of way.
As for Richard Jackson,
Whether he ever had a good night's sleep again is not known.
