Chapter Ten - Witches, Midwives, and Madwomen

CHAPTER TEN

Witches, Midwives, and Madwomen

BY THE LATE Middle Ages, the Inquisition had perfected its hunt for heretics.
But a new fear was creeping in.
It wasn’t a rival theology.
It wasn’t a political threat.

It was something older. Closer. Feminine.

She lived on the edge of the village.
She brewed potions. She delivered babies. She spoke to the moon.
She didn’t answer to the priest.

So she had to burn.

Witchcraft wasn’t always seen as heresy.
For centuries, it was dismissed as superstition and rural nonsense. It was just something old women muttered about herbs, charms, and spirits.

But by the 15th century, that changed. Drastically.

Thanks to papal bulls like Summis desiderantes affectibus (1484), and manuals like the infamous Malleus Maleficarum (The Hammer of Witches, 1487), witchcraft was redefined not as folklore, but as a satanic conspiracy.

Suddenly, witches weren’t just odd.
They were organized.
Dangerous.
Evil.

And almost always women.

Written by inquisitors Heinrich Kramer and Jacob Sprenger, the Malleus was less theology than psychosexual fever dream.

It argued that women were more gullible than men, had weaker faith, were driven by carnal desire, and were more likely to make pacts with demons.

It claimed midwives were especially suspicious, not only because they held knowledge over birth and the female body, but because they could “kill infants before baptism” and “offer them to Satan.”

This wasn’t just persecution.
It was doctrinalized misogyny.
Backed by scripture, signed in ink, and drenched in fear.

The Inquisition, now armed with “proof” that witches were real, began actively prosecuting women (and some men) for flying, cursing livestock, summoning storms, causing impotence, and engaging in sexual rites with demons.

Evidence? Optional.
Suspicion was often enough.

If you were poor, widowed, outspoken, or simply strange, you were fair game.

The same tools applied.
The rack, the strappado, the water cure, sleep deprivation, and hot irons were all on the table.

Accused witches were tortured into naming others, fueling a cycle of confessions that could devour entire towns.

One woman breaks. She names two others.
They break. They name six more.
Soon, everyone’s guilty.

Even death wasn’t always the end. Some were exhumed, posthumously tried, and their remains burned for good measure.

The world was changing, and women had too much power outside the Church’s reach.

They controlled midwifery, herbal medicine, and oral tradition.
They counseled. They healed. They whispered. They knew.

And in times of plague, famine, and war, when people needed answers they didn’t always turn to the Church.

They turned to her.

So the Church made sure she would never be trusted again.

Estimates vary, but between the 15th and 18th centuries, tens of thousands were executed as witches across Europe.

Many burned.
Some hanged.
All were erased.

The witch hunts were never just about superstition.

They were about control. Control of medicine, reproduction, spiritual authority, and womanhood itself.

From Germany to Scotland and France to the American colonies, the paranoia metastasized. Witch trials became rituals of social purification.

And underneath it all was the same old Inquisition logic:
Fear what you don’t understand.
Punish what doesn’t conform.
Burn what won’t obey.