Cold Open

It’s the summer of 1668 in Central Sweden.

12-year-old Gertrud walks her goats along the banks of the Dala River. It would be a peaceful, relaxing walk, if it wasn’t for the 10-year-old boy trailing along the path behind her.

Mats swipes petulantly at the reeds. He’s from the same village as Gertrud, but he’s bored and frustrated that he’s been forced to join her on her chore.

Gertrud shoots him a look, hoping to get him to stop. But all this does is spur Mats on.

He lashes out at the nearest goat, causing the animal to dart away and into the river.

Gertrud shouts at Mats to go after it. But he refuses, sneering that looking after the goats is her job. Gertrud can see the goat struggling in the water, trying to pull itself up onto a slippery rock. And if the goat drowns, Gertrud knows she’ll get a beating. So, scowling at Mats, she hitches up her dress and wades into the water.

She grabs the flailing goat around the neck and carries it back to the bank.

The goat bleats happily as its feet touch dry land and it rushes off to join the rest of the herd. Gertrud then clambers onto the bank herself. Squeezing the water from her skirt, she hisses insults at Mats for his stupidity.

But Mats quickly thinks of some hurtful words of his own. He calls Gertrud a witch who only reached the goat so easily because she used her evil powers.

Hearing that, Gertrud has had enough. She leaps at Mats, but the boy springs back and dashes away. And as he runs down the path, he gleefully shouts that he’s going to tell everyone in the village what Gertrud has done using her witchcraft.

Mats has no idea what a devastating chain of events his lies will unleash. When Gertrud returns, the village pastor demands that she explain how she walked on water. Gertrud tries to tell the truth, but the pastor doesn't believe her. Finally, worn down by his questions, Gertrud falsely accuses a fellow villager of being a witch who taught her demonic powers. But this false confession won’t just seal the fate of one innocent person though. The accusation will trigger a witch panic in Sweden that will eventually lead to the deaths of 71 people after a sham hearing on October 15th, 1674.

Introduction

From Noiser and Airship, I’m Lindsay Graham and this is History Daily.

History is made every day. On this podcast—every day—we tell the true stories of the people and events that shaped our world.

Today is October 15th, 1674: The Torsåker Witch Trials.

Act One: The Great Noise

It’s Spring 1674, inside a small church in the parish of Torsåker, Sweden, six years after a farmgirl’s accusation provoked a nationwide witch hunt.

Brita Hornaeus rises from her seat near the front of the church and joins the throng of her fellow villagers filing toward the exit. This week’s Sunday service has just come to an end, but there’s one final ceremony that the churchgoers must observe.

Waiting by the doors to the church is Brita’s husband, the local priest Laurentius Hornaeus. Beside him are two boys. The congregation line up and walk slowly through the door while the two boys stare closely at the faces of each villager as they pass.

Torsåker has been caught up in the witch fever that has gripped Sweden. As a local priest, Laurentius has been told by his church superiors to investigate any signs of witchcraft in the area. So, he’s hired these two boys from out of town, who are said to be able to see the invisible mark of Satan on people’s faces. While it's said this ability is a gift from God, there's also an incentive: the boys are paid for every witch they identify.

Two women ahead of Brita exit the church and, at once, the boys jab excited fingers at them. They’ve seen the mark of the devil on the women’s faces! The women protest that they’re innocent, but at a nod from Brita’s husband, several stocky men step forward to seize the two accused witches. Brita is horrified. She's known both women for years, one of them is her neighbor. They simply cannot be witches. But neither Brita nor any of the other villagers speak up in the women’s defense. Everyone just wants to get out of church as quickly as possible without the two boys pointing the finger of doubt at them. As the priest’s wife, Brita thinks that she's surely is above suspicion - but she grows nervous as she nears the doorway.

Laurentius nods to her reassuringly as she steps out into the daylight. And at first, it seems she will make it through, but then the youngest of the boys points directly at her. Without thinking, Brita slaps the child across the face. The boy doesn’t know what to do. He looks to Laurentius who stares back at him with anger.

Then quietly, and firmly, Laurentius asks the boy to confirm if he really saw the mark of the devil upon his wife’s face. Scared to provoke the priest’s anger and miss out on payment as a result, the boy mumbles an apology to Brita, saying he was mistaken and that the sunlight must have blinded him for a second. The priest nods his approval and Brita hurries away from the church, relieved to have fought off the accusation, but her heart races in anger at how easily the boy’s claim might have been accepted.

This witch panic has spread rapidly through Sweden over the past six years. Poor harvests and high taxes have gnawed away at people’s livelihoods and their hopes for the future. These hardships have created an atmosphere of suspicion, envy and resentment among ordinary people across the country and witchcraft has become a useful explanation for why some people still seem to do better than others: they must have used magic to steal the good fortune of their neighbors and hoard it for themselves. Tales are told of Satanic rituals that take place in a demonic realm known as Blåkulla. Church leaders and villagers describe witches taking children to this devil’s lair where they feast and dance with Satan in return for good luck and magical powers.

And in the parish of Torsåker, the accusations of witchcraft don’t end after that Sunday service. More villagers are soon arrested and locked up.

Brita Hornaeus hates to see what's happening in her village, but she dares not challenge her husband. She knows she is already lucky not to be among the accused and thinks that if she tries to speak up against the allegations, then she will be at risk again.

Other villagers face a similar dilemma to Brita. In order to protect themselves, they either stay silent, or accuse others. And with each new allegation, more villagers are arrested - provoking a new cycle of accusations.

But as fear spreads throughout this rural community, one man will remain resolute. Convinced that he is doing God’s work, Brita’s husband, the village priest Laurentius, will be determined to turn the accusations of witchcraft into convictions for witchcraft. And he will be willing to do anything to seal the fate of those condemned even if it means breaking the law.

Act Two: The Trials

It’s summer 1674 in the central Swedish parish of Torsåker, a few weeks after the first locals were accused of witchcraft.

Picking his way down a country path, local priest Laurentius Hornaeus comes to a secluded house nestled among the trees. A villager stands guard at the doorway and Laurentius greets the old man and asks if he has anything to report. The guard tells him that the night was quiet, but this morning, their guests are more… lively.

Laurentius nods and signals for the man to unlock the door. Almost as soon as he steps inside, Laurentius finds himself surrounded by those in the house - not the men and women accused of witchcraft, but they’re children.

When Laurentius first moved to the area two years ago, it was to take up a job as the assistant to an old priest. But that man quickly died and Laurentius inherited the post. He then married the late priest’s daughter, Brita, as was the custom.

It was a tumultuous time for the Church in Sweden. The government in the capital Stockholm was busy with its overseas wars and left the investigation of potential witchcraft to the church, where priests were given sweeping powers to root out any witches in their parishes.

Laurentius believes wholeheartedly that he is the community’s last line of defense against Satan. But he has a problem in his fight against the devil - unless the accused women confess, there won’t be enough evidence to convict them.

Laurentius has interrogated each suspected witch in turn and some have furiously denied the accusations. Others have simply stayed silent.

So, Laurentius was forced to look elsewhere for proof. The use of child witnesses in witch trials is illegal in Sweden. But Laurentius has decided to ignore the rule.

He’s locked up the village’s children in a secure location, saying it’s for their own protection - the accusations of witchcraft often describe boys and girls being abducted and taken to the demonic land of Blåkulla.

But the only person the children really need protection from is Laurentius himself. Obsessed with gaining evidence against the accused villagers he’s been encouraging children as young as four to make false claims that they are the victims of witchcraft.

So when he arrives at the house where the children are held, many are eager to tell Laurentius what he wants to hear. But there are a few who prove more reluctant to accuse their neighbors and family members of witchcraft.

For some of the children, especially the younger ones, the priest’s anger and frighteningly loud voice are enough to break their resistance and get them to name names. But for the more stubborn children, Laurentius has more extreme methods of getting them to talk. He ties ropes around them and throws them in the river, not letting them out until they’re ready to confess. In other cases he shuts the children in ovens and threatens to light them on fire.

With such treatment, it doesn’t take long before even the most reluctant child is willing to say just about anything. So, Laurentius soon hears tales about how the children’s neighbors, or aunts, or even their mothers and older sisters, have carried them away from home on broomsticks and taken them to the land of Blåkulla.

Locked up together, the children then share what they have told Laurentius to one another. And soon, a single accusation from a single witness multiplies as the children repeat and embellish what they have heard from the others.

In the eyes of Laurentius, though, this is compelling evidence of guilt. If dozens of children all say the same thing about someone, then surely what they claim must be true. So using this testimony, Laurentius is finally able to browbeat confessions out of some of the accused witches. A few confess in the hopes of saving their immortal souls. Others though perhaps only speak up in the hopes of sparing their children more torture.

And with more confessions and accusations coming in every day, Laurentius is certain that when the trials finally begin in the fall, the Royal Witchcraft Commission will lay down guilty verdicts on the witches of his village. And then, Laurentius will finally be able to say that he has done his duty. The parish will be freed from Satan’s wicked clutches. And its children will be safe at last.

Act Three: The Guilty

It’s October 15th, 1674, in the parish of Torsåker, six months after two boys first accused a handful of villagers of wearing the mark of Satan.

Local priest Laurentius Hornaeus proudly stands before the assembled Royal Witchcraft Commission. 18 somber learned men and six farmers have gathered to hear the evidence against the witches of Torsåker.

Laurentius believes he's done fine work bringing the accused to trial. Around a hundred villagers must now account for their wickedness.

So, Laurentius explains to the commission how he has amassed a record number of confessions from those who have been to Blåkulla, the land of the devil. He says that he has first-hand testimony from those who have feasted and fornicated with Satan, and that now it's up to the judges to deliver a verdict.

In the end, 71 villagers are convicted of witchcraft and sentenced to death: 65 women, two men and four boys.

Months later, the condemned are led out from the dungeons where they have been held and taken to the top of a nearby hill. There, individual stakes for each condemned witch have been hammered into the earth and surrounded by kindling. They are to be burned - but not immediately. A few feet away, a chopping block awaits. The witches are to be beheaded before they are given to the flames. And at the sight of the execution block and the wooden stakes, many of the prisoners tremble and weep. But none of the watching villagers do anything to stop the proceedings.

71 innocent people will be killed on the hilltop in Torsåker that day. The mass execution will be the worst atrocity in the Swedish witch hunt of the 17th century - but more than two hundred other people will die in similar circumstances across the country. This panic will only come to an end three years later when the Swedish church declares that all witches in the country have either been killed or expelled.

By then, quietly, many of the children in Torsåker will have recanted their evidence against the dead. And decades later, the real story of what happened will be told to a writer by Brita Hornaeus, the wife of the man who proudly and gladly drove dozens of men, women and children to their deaths at the Torsåker Witch Trials which began on October 15th, 1674.

Outro

Next on History Daily. October 16th, 2017. On the Mediterranean island of Malta, Daphne Caruana Galizia is killed when a bomb explodes under her car.

From Noiser and Airship, this is History Daily, hosted, edited, and executive produced by me, Lindsay Graham.

Audio editing by Muhammad Shahzaib.

Sound design by Gabriel Gould.

Music by Thrumm.

This episode is written and researched by Owen Paul Nicholls.

Edited by Dorian Merina.

Managing producer Emily Burke.

Executive Producers are William Simpson for Airship, and Pascal Hughes for Noiser.