Showing posts with label Witches. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Witches. Show all posts
The Vardø witch trial (Heksejakten i Vardø), which took place in in Finnmark in Northern Norway in 1621, was the first witch trial of Northern Norway, and one of the biggest witch trials in Scandinavia
Anne Pedersdotter (died April 7, 1590) was an alleged Norwegian witch. Her case was one of the most documented of the many witch trials in Norway in the 16th and 17th centuries. Together with Lisbeth Nypan, she was perhaps the most famous victim of the accusation in Norway.
Pendle Hill, almost a mountain, hypnotic and very atmospheric. In the year 1612 there stood a huge limestone tower where a family of local peasants dwelt. But not just an ordinary family, these so called peasants had powers far beyond our reach. They were in league with the devil, they made clay effigies and used human hair and teeth to make these effigies.
Various local persons died of mysterious illnesses, some in great pain. Milk was turned blue, cattle died without a mark on their bodies and the locals feared venturing on to the hill. One man determined to make a name for himself was the local magistrate Roger Nowell. In great fear for his life he plucked up the courage to arrest two of the inhabitants of the stone tower known as Malkin tower. They were sent to Lancaster to be tried, two days later all the other witches met at the tower but within weeks all were taken to Lancaster for trial and certain death by hanging.
It happened in the city of Monterrey in the late 1980s. My family (the side of my mom) is very large. My grandparents had six daughters and one son. The second oldest daughter, we'll call her Lisa, has always had something with the paranormal. It's like it follows her.
This happened many years ago when I was a little girl. I need to explain a little before I get to the actual phenomena. I grew up in a small farming town roughly one hour's drive from Monterrey in northern Mexico. My father was an orange farmer and this is where I spent my years before schooling. Because my father worked very long days, I was looked after by my grandmother. She would teach me to read, tie laces, make things, etc. But my endearing memory of her was the stories she told She always told me never to stray from the farm and never, ever play in the hills above the farm. She would never explain why, but the local stories told that a number of kids had gone out playing there and had not returned. I always figured it was to warn me (and other kids) away because there are hidden caves and the ground can open up without warning (earthquakes often revealed hidden caves).
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