Belief in witchcraft stretches back to the dawn of human history, shaping cultures and sparking both fascination and fear. In the world of ancient Germanic tribes, long before Christianity’s spread, sorceresses and seers were woven into the fabric of everyday life. Magic was considered a real and potent force, not just idle superstition. These early beliefs laid the foundations for later ideas about witchcraft and reshaped how society perceived magic’s role, transforming it from a respected tradition to something dark and dangerous.
As Christianity moved across Europe, especially in regions like Mark Brandenburg during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, the image of witchcraft grew more sinister. Witches were believed to have turned their backs on God, often thought to make forbidden pacts with the devil. This dramatic shift led to a new and pervasive narrative: anyone suspected of wielding magic, particularly black magic, was cast as an agent of evil. This atmosphere of suspicion made accusations of witchcraft all too common, usually fueled by envy, resentment, and unresolved conflicts within communities. Everyday tensions between neighbors could quickly transform into allegations of supernatural wrongdoing, particularly when faced with hard-to-explain misfortunes. Failed crops, sudden illnesses, and natural disasters were often blamed on those marked as outsiders. With little scientific understanding of how the world worked, many people sought answers by singling out individuals who seemed different or unlucky, turning them into scapegoats for the collective anxieties of their communities.
The Rise of Witch Hunts
By the late fifteenth century, witch persecution gained steam under the influence of religious and legal leaders. A major turning point came in 1484 when Pope Innocent VIII issued a decree, setting the stage for systematic witch hunts. Heinrich Kramer, a Dominican inquisitor, propelled this new movement with a chilling guidebook titled Malleus Maleficarum, or The Hammer of Witches. This text was among the first widely circulated manuals for witch hunters, thanks to the new technology of the printing press. It offered methods for identifying, interrogating, and convicting supposed witches, blending theology with practical advice and cementing the belief that witchcraft was a genuine threat.
In practice, the hunt for witches overwhelmingly targeted women. The notion that women were weaker and more prone to temptation was deeply rooted, which made unmarried, widowed, or otherwise independent women especially vulnerable. The Malleus Maleficarum spun lurid stories of women gaining supernatural powers through allegiance to Satan, further feeding public fear and suspicion. Without the social and legal protection of marriage, many women became easy targets. Torture was frequently used in these trials, designed not just to extract confessions but also to uncover new “accomplices.” This approach created a relentless cycle where accusations multiplied, leading to local frenzies and mass executions. The reach of the Malleus Maleficarum became widespread, as multiple editions circulated through both Catholic and Protestant regions. In places like Kurbrandenburg, men and women alike could face death by fire, often after severe torture.
Even influential reformers like Martin Luther supported the movement, emphasizing biblical mandates in sermons and advocating fierce persecution of alleged witches. The records of confessions, usually extracted under extreme duress, filled legal ledgers with stories of dark alliances that deepened society’s sense of dread.
Laws and Executions
The battle against witchcraft soon found its place in the law. The Sachsenspiegel, a widely respected legal code of medieval Germany, clearly stated that anyone convicted of sorcery or poisoning would be burned at the stake. Public executions became grand events, meant to punish wrongdoers and to scare the rest of the populace. In some cases, a show of mercy was given: the condemned might be strangled before the flames were lit. The act of burning carried powerful symbolism, believed to free the community from evil and destroy any demonic influence for good.
Documents from Berlin’s early city registers tell of at least nineteen burnings by 1448, including two elderly women accused of sorcery. These accounts reveal just how much intolerance and fear could shape the fate of those who fell under suspicion. Executions were more than punitive; they were community rituals, reinforcing control and broadcasting a clear warning.
Earliest Witch Trials in Berlin
The first recorded witch trial in Berlin dates to 1390, centered on an elderly woman known as Wolborg. She gave berries to another woman, who soon fell ill. When approached for help, Wolborg claimed to be both the cause of the illness and the only person who could cure it—a confession that led straight to her execution. The records are brief, but they show how any misstep or unusual event could pull someone into the orbit of suspicion and doom. Another case in 1423 is even more mysterious, involving a nameless woman accused of mixing potions and working magic late at night. Her fate was sealed in the same fiery fashion, illustrating the speed with which vague suspicions could turn lethal.
Crisis and Resurgence
As the sixteenth century unfolded, Berlin saw a new wave of trials, triggered by a mix of superstition, religious turmoil, devastating epidemics, and environmental disasters. The Reformation created deep uncertainty, while the bitter cold and failed harvests of the Little Ice Age made life harsh. Plagues forced people to look for explanations, and the blame often landed on anyone who seemed different or unlucky. In 1510, horror swept through Berlin with the execution of thirty-nine Jews accused of sacrilege, a stark example of how scapegoating could take many forms in desperate times.
Stories of “storm witches” abounded, linking magical powers to crop destruction and wild weather. Legends grew around these ideas, blending folklore with real events. Chroniclers of the time recorded notable incidents, like a thunderstorm in 1551 that damaged a church in Berlin, giving new life to tales that blamed witches for nature’s fury. Apocryphal accounts of witchcraft, such as the story of an innkeeper using enchanted water to turn two accused witches into ice, highlight the era’s blend of drama and belief.
Ferdinand Pusthius’s seventeenth-century writings detail the execution of a sorceress who was said to have attracted a devilish heron at her burning, while other cases involved accusations of child murder and magical conspiracies to drive up food prices. The more chaotic the world seemed, the more elaborate and terrifying the accusations became.
Bernau’s Tragedy
While Berlin sometimes escaped the worst of the witch fever, nearby Bernau became infamous for its witch hunts, especially between 1620 and 1635. Hardship and superstition mixed to make the town a powder keg. In one often-told tale, an elector’s horses died suddenly while passing through Bernau, sparking a round of arrests and burnings. Records show at least twenty-two executions for alleged pacts with the devil. Personal glory or even simple success could be dangerous, as seen in the fate of Jürgen Crone and his wife Emerentia. The couple moved to Bernau in search of work, but their popular bread stirred envy, which then collided with superstition. Both Jürgen and his pregnant wife ended up executed, victims of greed and rumor.
Not all the stories ended swiftly. Dorothea “Orthie” Meermann, whose mother and grandmother had also been executed as witches, struggled against a web of accusations that included feeding dragons and cursing the townsfolk. She endured years of torture and imprisonment, finally dying during custody. Her daughter Catarina Selchow was later executed, accused of sending evil spirits to her suffering mother. In many cases, accusations destroyed entire families generation after generation.
The Fall of the Flames
With the end of the Thirty Years’ War, attitudes slowly began to shift. Skepticism took root, and the legal tide turned. In 1714, Frederick William I, called the Soldier King, mandated that execution and torture for witchcraft could only proceed with his direct approval. He ordered the old execution stakes removed, which marked the end of the official era of witch persecution in the region. Later accusations brought fewer deaths, but the legacy lingered; for example, a Berlin miller’s daughter accused in 1721 was found insane rather than guilty of witchcraft and sent away rather than executed.
Berlin now stands as a modern counterpoint, its reputation as a center for alternative spiritual practices and neo-pagan revival even earning it a lively community of self-described witches. The image of the witch, once a symbol of terror, has transformed. Platforms like TikTok are filled with people sharing spells, tarot readings, herbal blends, and crystal rituals with global audiences, especially among young people. In this vibrant new world, witchcraft becomes a form of empowerment and expression, far removed from the shadows of medieval persecution. The change reflects not just a shift in beliefs, but also a broader cultural willingness to embrace difference and rethink the narratives that define outsiders.
Teaser image by Thomas Quine.