When we hear the phrase top 10 things about witches, the mind jumps to broomsticks, black cats, and spooky cauldrons. Yet the reality behind witchcraft is a tangled web of superstition, politics, and genuine mystery that stretches from ancient Rome to modern‑day poltergeist investigations. Below, we unpack ten astonishing facts that most people never learned, each backed by historical detail and a dash of dark intrigue.
Uncovering the Hidden History
10 The Romans
Fear of witchcraft is arguably as ancient as fear itself, and the Roman world provides a striking early example. Historian Ronald Hutton notes that while Egypt and Mesopotamia show early magical practices, Rome—renowned for its order and rationalism—also harbored a deadly belief in sorcery. This paradox mirrors the early‑modern era, where dazzling scientific breakthroughs co‑existed with savage witch hunts.
Throughout antiquity, witches served as scapegoats for everything from crop failure to epidemics. Hutton records a 331 BC Roman plague that resulted in the execution of more than 170 women, including two noblewomen, all condemned for alleged magic. Later, between 184 BC and 180 BC, successive Italian epidemics claimed the lives of roughly two thousand and three thousand self‑styled “black magicians” respectively, illustrating how quickly fear could turn lethal.
9 Clairvoyance
Research by Lara Apps and Andrew Gow estimates that between 1450 and 1750, about 110,000 individuals faced witchcraft trials, with roughly 60,000 executed. While the vast majority fell victim to misogyny and superstition, a handful appear to have possessed genuine psychic abilities.
One of the most compelling cases emerged in 1591 Scotland. Agnes Sampson, accused during the North Berwick witch frenzy, was interrogated and eventually presented before King James VI. Skeptical at first, James was astonished when Sampson recited the exact words spoken between him and his wife Anne on their wedding night in Norway. He reportedly declared that “all the devils in hell could not have discovered the same,” prompting him to take her claims more seriously.
Modern history shows that clairvoyance has continued to intrigue governments and law‑enforcement. The CIA’s Remote Viewing program and police use of psychic mediums attest to an enduring belief in extrasensory perception. Sampson met a grim fate—garrotted and burned on 28 January 1591—yet her story sparked a broader witch craze that followed James to England when he became James I in 1603.
8 The Witch of Edmonton
On 14 April 1621, Elizabeth Sawyer of Edmonton faced a slew of accusations ranging from maleficium to murder. Five days later, she was hanged at Tyburn. The most damning evidence involved a neighbor, Agnes Ratcliffe, who allegedly died after a cursed argument with Sawyer; Ratcliffe’s husband testified that his wife foamed at the mouth in terror before dying within four days—a classic case of “voodoo death.”
Sawyer’s story leapt to the stage later that year, when playwrights Thomas Dekker, William Rowley, and John Ford rushed a dramatization titled *The Witch of Edmonton* into production. While the play echoed the sensationalism of Marlowe’s *Doctor Faustus*, it also highlighted how community ostracism could turn a solitary, impoverished woman into a villain—her only companions being the Devil and a snarling black dog performed by an actor in a costume. Modern audiences may find the dog’s antics both eerie and oddly endearing.
7 Witch Cannibals
Witches have long been painted as the ultimate taboo‑breakers, and cannibalism tops that list. Accusations of child‑eating and grave‑robbing proliferated across Europe, feeding a narrative that witches devoured the innocent. Lyndal Roper documents a 1590 confession by Barbara Lierheimer of Nordlingen, who allegedly ate “a roasted child’s little foot.” Although Lierheimer died under torture, the claim reflects a broader hysteria that respectable citizens secretly feasted on children between 1590 and 1598.
On 30 April 1611, Louis Gaufridi, a priest‑turned‑male witch, was burned in Aix‑en‑Provence. Notably, Gaufridi refused to touch his food, claiming he fed on “good flesh, the bodies of infants, which are invisibly sent unto him from the synagogue.” Contemporary accounts also describe the coven’s gruesome practices: sucking infants, strangling them, and exhuming bodies to bake macabre pies. These lurid tales underscore how fear could morph into sensationalist folklore.
6 Sucking Out Your Life
Across centuries, witches were blamed for draining life itself—whether from crops, livestock, or newborns. This belief crystallized into a vivid fantasy: witches could literally “suck” vitality from their victims. In Shakespeare’s era, the soul was viewed as a tangible, biological force, with fat considered an essence of life rivaling blood.
One notorious case emerged in summer 1612 at Samlesbury, Lancashire. Sisters Ellen and Jennet Bierley were accused of murdering an infant through occult means, then exhuming the child to roast, boil, and consume its bones. They allegedly used the released fat to anoint themselves, claiming it allowed shape‑shifting. Jennet reportedly thrust a nail into the child’s navel, inserted a pen, and “sucked” for a considerable period before returning the child to its cradle, after which the infant languished and died. Contemporary observers believed she was siphoning the child’s soul.
Even in the New World, similar accusations persisted. In 1888 near Capitalo, Mexico, a woman named Medina faced trial after threatening parents with “protection money,” claiming she could “suck out” children’s breath from a distance—a chilling reminder that the life‑draining myth survived well beyond the early modern period.
5 Male Witches
While women comprised roughly 80 % of witch‑craft defendants, certain regions bucked this trend. Normandy, for instance, recorded an unusually high proportion of male witches between 1564 and 1660—about three‑quarters of the 380 accused were men, and after 1630 men virtually monopolized witchcraft cases.
In England, the county of Essex produced two strikingly different male witch narratives. In 1864, Emma Smith and Samuel Stammers were sentenced to six months of hard labour for beating and ducking an elderly deaf‑mute Frenchman known locally as “Dummy.” The pair believed the man, a reputed fortune‑teller, had bewitched them, a suspicion amplified by his foreignness and disability. Conversely, George Pickingham (or Pickingill) of Canewdon died in 1909 at age 93, reputedly a male witch who could halt farm machinery with a glance. Villagers feared his familiars—white mice—and he allegedly coerced locals into fetching water for him, leveraging his alleged occult powers. His reputation blended witchcraft with folk healing.
4 Cutting a Witch
Vigilante assaults on alleged witches were not merely spontaneous acts of violence; they often followed a specific belief that cutting a witch could nullify her powers. In Scotland, this practice was known as “cutting a witch above the breath,” meaning a slash across the forehead.
Reverend Peter Rae of Kirkbride, a former Glasgow law student, performed this ritual in 1706 on a woman he suspected of bewitching him. Later, in 1826, minister Peter Monilaws of Kirkpatrick Fleming, Dumfries, cut the forehead skin of a female neighbor he blamed for drowning pigs, letting the flap hang over her eyes before sewing it back. In 1842, brickmaker Radley of Market Rasen, Lincolnshire, obsessed with a supposed witch he thought caused his chronic ill‑health, slashed her arm in the street, bleeding profusely. In this case, the “witch” turned out to be his own mother.
3 Child‑Witches
While modern Halloween celebrations picture children dressed in witch costumes, the 15th‑19th centuries saw children both victimized by witch‑craft accusations and, paradoxically, labeled witches themselves. In Wurzburg during the 1620s, over 40 children were executed for witchcraft.
In 1669, the Swedish village of Mohra erupted in terror after a minister suffered sleep‑paralysis nightmares and lost his voice for weeks. Interrogations revealed up to 300 children allegedly attending witches’ Sabbaths. That August, fourteen women and one man were beheaded and burned; fifteen children were executed, and 148 were whipped. Later, in Augsburg, 1723, children were again accused of attending Sabbaths and placing diabolic powder in their parents’ beds. Around 20 children aged six to sixteen endured a year of imprisonment; one remained jailed until 1729.
2 The Witch Dynasty of Dettingen
Witch‑hunters often believed that diabolic magic could be inherited. In Dettingen, southern Germany, the Gamperle family became infamous as a murderous coven. Husband Paul and wife Anne, along with sons Simon and Jacob, tailor George Smaltes, and armourer Ullrich Sehelltibaum, were said to perform black rites in a cave after a storm on 23 July 1600.
Confessions before the Governor of Munich painted a gruesome tally: Paul claimed his grandmother taught him the trade, boasting of 100 child murders, two uncles, and sixteen neighbours. Anne reported 100 child deaths and nineteen elderly victims, plus causing an innkeeper’s wife to die in an oven and her husband to drown after sticking his head in a tub. The sons together claimed over a hundred killings, with Jacob slaying six men who attempted to mug him. Adding Smaltes and Sehelltibaum’s claims, the total reached 527 murders—rivaling the infamous Countess Elizabeth Bathory. Their execution was equally horrific: Anne’s breasts were cut off and used to strike her face; she was whipped, broken on a wheel, and roasted alive on a spiked chair. The sons were burned together on a stake, and Paul was impaled and roasted.
1 Witches and Poltergeists
A few years ago I dove into the study of poltergeists and discovered, through conversations with colleagues, that these disruptive spirits have haunted the homes of academics. The more I explored, the more cases emerged, confirming that poltergeists do exist and occasionally sparked witch accusations. They tend to draw on the energy of a young household member—often a female—creating bizarre phenomena that observers misinterpreted as witchcraft.
In Cork, Ireland, 1661, Florence Newton faced witchcraft charges after an argument with Mary Longdon led to Longdon suffering convulsive fits. Stones fell from nowhere around Longdon—classic poltergeist activity. Records of Newton’s sentence are missing, but formal witch charges were rare in Ireland. In Cornwall, 1821, a violent stone‑throwing poltergeist ignited a witch panic on Carelew Street, where a mob of children chased an elderly woman, intent on stripping her and drawing blood. Later, in 1896, hammerings at a house in Edithweston, Rutland, prompted villagers to blame a 14‑year‑old servant girl, accusing her of being “in league with the Devil.”
On Italy’s island of Elba, Scottish caregiver Carole Compton arrived in 1983 to look after a three‑year‑old child, only to encounter spontaneous fires and objects falling from nowhere. During her sensational trial, she was accused of casting the evil eye on the child, with the word “witch” hurled at her repeatedly. Evidence suggests she was an involuntary conduit for a poltergeist rather than a deliberate witch.