There is, it seems, a witch for any occasion. Witchcraft “can be seen as an area of criminal law, a manifestation of religious belief or secular power, a sign of social stress, a display of sexual prejudice and fear, [and] a temporary and inexplicable mania,” comments historian Rosalind Mitchison. Witch trials and hunts also became, Mitchison notes, “a nasty and squalid manifestation of cruelty”.1 Indeed, as Tracy Borman points out in her book on the English witch hunts, people in authority could “indulge their sadistic fantasies” during witch trials and interrogations.2
Witch trials haunt our consciousness, part of the current penchant for retrospective justice. Pagan books promoting eco-consciousness and self-empowerment fill our shelves. Stories involving witches top our viewing habits: we after all need escapist entertainment. But perhaps the fascination also persists because witch hunts allow us to glimpse the dark side of our personalities we’d prefer remained hidden. Perhaps witch trials critique our often unquestioning obsequiousness to authority, or highlight the herd mentality that means we blindly follow our peers, neighbours or social