Heinrich and the Hammer of Witches

I've touched on the Malleus Maleficarum ("Hammer of Witches") briefly before. It was written by a Dominican who was frustrated because he wasn't allowed to do everything he wanted as part of the Inquisition.

It was first printed in 1486 in Germany and also known as Hexenhammer. It offers proof that witches exist, explains their powers, and explains how to properly conduct a trial of a witch. It recommends torture to gain confessions.

The Inquisition of the Catholic Church also used torture to extract confessions out of suspected heretics, but officially condemned the Malleus Maleficarum as unethical in 1489. That did not prevent its massive popularity, however. Here is how the book came about.

In 1485, after urging Pope Innocent VIII to make a statement against witches, which led to a papal bull, Heinrich Kramer (c.1430 - 1505) went to Innsbruck to root out witchcraft. Its bishop, Georg Golser, gave him permission to operate in the diocese. He and his personal crusade were well-known, and a woman by the name of Helena Scheuberin, the wife of a prominent burgher, seeing him in the street, spat and said "Fie on you, you bad monk, may the falling evil take you."

Kramer found out that she never attended any of his sermons, and moreover that she was telling others to avoid him, so he accused her of laying a curse and had her arrested. Bishop Golser urged Kraner to drop the investigation, since his accusations of witchcraft had no evidence to support them, but Kramer persisted until Golser demanded that Kramer leave the diocese.

That is when he decided to turn his focus on educating others of the dangers of witches among us, and so wrote his book. He included a forward with Innocent's bull, lending an air of legitimacy to his stance. It was reprinted 13 times up until 1520, and then had a revival between the 1570s and 1660s when it was reprinted 16 times. Its popularity finally started to fade during the Age of Enlightenment, although it is still published as a curiosity today, and paperback copies can be found from several booksellers.

Next time, let's go back to the beginning of the Inquisition, and see how it all started.

Innocent, Kramer, and Witchcraft

On 5 December 1484, Pope Innocent VIII issued a papal bull concerning witchcraft. Bulls are known by their opening lines, and so this one is referred to as Summis desiderantes affectibus, "Desiring with supreme ardor," although that opening hardly tells you what the bull addresses.

The rest of the first sentence (or at least most of the very long introduction) makes more sense:

Desiring with supreme ardor, as pastoral solicitude requires, that the catholic faith in our days everywhere grow and flourish as much as possible, and that all heretical depravity be put far from the territories of the faithful,...[source]

The bull was a response to the urging of Heinrich Kramer (c.1430 - 1505), a German Dominican and inquisitor for the county of Tyrol, and for Salzburg, Bohemia, and Moravia. Kramer saw witchcraft as a severe problem, and wanted permission to root it out and punish it everywhere. The local authorities did not support his campaign, so he appealed to Innocent and convinced the pope that this was a crisis that needed addressing. 

The bull continues with a list of the results of witchcraft:

...by their incantations, charms, and conjurings, and by other abominable superstitions and sortileges, offences, crimes, and misdeeds, ruin and cause to perish the offspring of women, the foal of animals, the products of the earth, the grapes of vines, and the fruits of trees, as well as men and women, cattle and flocks and herds and animals of every kind, vineyards also and orchards, meadows, pastures, harvests, grains and other fruits of the earth; that they afflict and torture with dire pains and anguish, both internal and external, these men, women, cattle, flocks, herds, and animals, and hinder men from begetting and women from conceiving, and prevent all consummation of marriage;

Despite the bull, the German authorities limited Kramer's inquisitorial activities. During one trial he brought against the wife of a prominent burgher in Innsbruck, his bishop accused him of not being able to prove any of his accusations, finally demanding that Kramer leave his diocese.

Kramer retired from the Inquisition and turned his attention to warning everyone about witchcraft and related topics. The result was a book that is still in print, the Malleus Maleficarum, or "Hammer of Witches." Let's talk about that next time.

About Medieval Witchcraft

The history of witchcraft, like any historical phenomenon, is a combination of truths, falsehoods, reinterpretations, and misunderstandings. What we now call "witchcraft" was defined differently by different groups—or rather, what it was remained the same, but its significance was redefined. I'll try to explain.

By the end of Charlemagne's reign in 814, overt paganism had died out in Western Europe, replaced by Christian practices. There were traditions that did not die out, however. Some examples are divination for the gender of an unborn child and dowsing for water; the mixing of substances intended to bring about an emotional effect such as love or desire; or attempts at healing illness using sympathetic magic (described here being used by a midwife).

"Magic" was sometimes a professional's pursuit. People like Ficino and Fibonacci and Geert Groote and even Hildegard of Bingen were associated with learning or practicing magic. There was a point in time, however, where these "un"natural practices were declared to be bad. That may well have started with Pope John XXII, when he declared such things to be heresy. This created the formal framework for investigating and prosecuting anyone suspected of practicing witchcraft by the Inquisition. This was in the 1320s. Now the woman in the village to whom you turned for medical or magical aid was suspect, and associating with her made you suspect.

What exactly constituted witchcraft and was worthy of accusation fluctuated with time and temperament.  The 1487 Malleus Maleficarum ("Hammer of the Witches") became the manual for identifying the offenses of witches, which could be categorized in three levels:

“i) slight (ii) great, and (iii) very great.” 

Slight offenses constitute something as simple as small groups meeting secretly in order to practice the craft, whereas very great, or violent, offenses included respecting and admiring heretics. With such a broad spectrum of infractions, accusing anyone of practicing the craft was possible. This, in conjunction with the broad spectrum of who could be a witch, pushed the witch craze to its apex. [source]

(The "craze" reached a peak in 17th century New England, when a husband and wife accused each other of witchcraft after the death of their child. It went to trial.)

The Malleus Maleficarum supported and extended John XXII's bull making witchcraft equal heresy. It firmly linked witchcraft to worship of the devil, and a thing to be avoided at all costs. Between 1450 and 1750, there were an estimated 110,000 trials for witchcraft, about half of which led to capital punishment.

It is times like this that I cannot help thinking of C.S. Lewis' words at the beginning of Mere Christianity:

Three hundred years ago people in England were putting witches to death. Was that what you call the 'Rule of Human Nature or Right Conduct?’ But surely the reason we do not execute witches is that we do not believe there are such things. If we did—if we really thought that there were people going about who had sold themselves to the devil and received supernatural powers from him in return and were using these powers to kill their neighbours or drive them mad or bring bad weather—surely we would all agree that if anyone deserved the death penalty, then these filthy quislings did?

He knows full well that witchcraft is not a thing to be condemned, and that it is arrogant of the modern age to look back and condemn the accusers of being stupid; they had no choice—if they truly believed what they were told—that they were acting to save themselves and their neighbors. It was a dark period in the human history of belief and fear of "The Other," which manifests itself in many ways, such as in this recent post.

Let us look at a specific witch trial in more detail, of a wealthy Kilkenny woman who was accused of witchcraft by her (perhaps less-than-neutral in this matter) stepchildren. See you tomorrow.