Isabel DuneWitch @isabeldunewitch - Tumblr Blog

This is a compiled list of all the works I’ve posted here thus far. I will attempt to do my best to reblog this periodically with updates, in hopes of making more blog more easily navigated. You’ll find below the links to all my (applicable) posts – arranged alphabetically and by category instead of simply chronologically. Hopeful this will prove helpful!

Sigils & Seals

Atropa Datura Seal

Baron Samedi & Maman Brigitte – Combined Veve

Catcall Hex Stone

Channel of the Sulfuric Moon (Love)

Circle of Convergence

Control Sigil

Cosmic Channel

The Dream Key

Finding Meaning Sigil

The Forge

Grounding the Nexus

Harpy Seal

I Will Learn Patience Sigil

Labyrinth Labrys

The Left-Hand Serpent

Lords of Day and Night

The Lunar Serpent

Maria Mulambo da Lixeira – Ponto Riscado

Marinette Bwa Chech – Veve

Mingling Hearts Sigil

The Oracle

Paths That Cross Sigil

Qedava’s Seal

Qedava’s Seal #2 (seen above)

Revival of the Moon Sigil

Rosa Caveira – Ponto Riscado

Rosa Caveira da Lixeira – Ponto Riscado

Rose of Intimacy ;; Lover’s Embrace

Seal of the Great Goddess

Seal of Lucifer, the Destroyer

Seal of Lucifer, the Mourner

And his story

Seal of the Moirai

Seal of the Planets

Seal of Pomba Gira

Seal of Premonition

Seal of the Scorpion

Seal of the Three-Headed Serpent

See Me As I Am Sigil

Seed of Life

The Seeing Star

The Serpent Sigil

Sigil Hour #1: Set 1

Sigil Hour #1: Set 2

Sigil of the Sacred Bull

Sign of the Hooded Serpent

Symbol of the Labyrinth

Traveler’s Protection Seal

Triangle of Existence

Rituals

A Little Weather Witchery

Black Dog Cross

Blood Oath to the Goddess

Cats and Dogs Curse

Communing with the Dead

Constructing a Spirit Vessel

Demon Conjuration

Door-Bar Boundary

Evocation of The Devil

The Exorcism

Feeding the Black Serpent

Flying With Fire: Hedgeriding Tutorial

Hear Not, See Not, Speak Not Hex

Ignus Faatus Curse

Know What You Have Done Spell

La Danse du Macabre (The Macabre Dance)

La Muñeca de Tutela

Little Love Spells

Love Me Tender Gris Gris

Loved One Gris-Gris

Mirror, Mirror Reversal

Mother Protect Prayer

The Night Whisper

Offerings to the Dead

(Past Life) Recollection Gris Gris

Removal of the Heart

Selective Spirit Door-Bar Ritual

Simple Love Drawing

Simple Love Drawing #2

Simple Truth Spell

The Soul-Alchemist’s Trap Box

To Ribbons Curse

To Poison the Mind (Curse)

Transmogrification of the Spirit

Walk-A-Mile Hex

Walking on Water – Hedgeriding Tutorial

The Witches’ Baptism

Wheel of Misfortune

Yerba Del Diablo – The Flying Stone

Magical Recipes

10 Dollar Oil

Attraction Oil

Conquered Heart Oil

Crown of Thorns Oil

Goofer Dust

Guierda’s Philtre (Potion)

Ivy Purse Recipes

Money Power Glory Oil

Whore of Babylon Oil

Dreams, Visions & Anecdotes

Creatures of the Hospital

Dreams of the Aztec Gods

Great Goddess Vision

Nazirite Dream

Red Palms Dream

Red Women

Red Women, Response 1

Red Women, Response 2

Spider Queen

Informational

Beliefs Behind the Trap Box

Breathing Life (into Poppets)

Cigarettes & Witchcraft

Cleansing Without Sage

The Crossroads

The Devotion of Sound

Divination With Playing Cards

Hierarchy of the Soul

The Lines of Ancestry

The Minoan Great Goddess

Morality With Q: Session #1

Music In Witchcraft

My House Is Haunted (Ask)

Practical and Ritual Correlations Between Cooking & the Craft

Principles of Magic – Ask

Qedavian Apocrypha

Qedavian Apocrypha 2

Rosa Caveira

Sacred Fire (with recipe)

Sigil Making Process (Ask)

The Spider

Sulphur: The Indispensable Mineral (Element)

Throwin’ the Bones (Bones Divination Tutorial)

Tutorial on Qedavian Script

Archetypes

Seals:

Seal of the Black Mother

Seal of the Earth Mother

Seal of the Lady of the Depths

Seal of the Queen of Heaven

Seal of the Red Queen

Wheel of Archetypes

Evocations:

Evocation of the Black Mother

Evocation of the Earth Mother

Evocation of the Lady of the Depths

Evocation of the Queen of Heaven

Evocation of the Red Queen

Mistress Mary

Mistress Mary (General Info)

Evocation of Mistress Mary

Dame Alice Seal & Poem

“Unholy” Saints

Candace: the 4 Kandakes of Kush

Resolution of the Kandakes

Deborah: The Prophetess

To Overcome Any Odds

Delilah: the Temptress

Dominion of Delilah

Dinah: Of Rose & Honey

Binding Hearts The Flames of Retribution

Huldah: the Prophetess

Key of Huldah

Queen Jezebel, the Fierce

Curse of Jezebel

Queen of Sheba

Sheba’s Bath

Rahab: the Harlot

The Coin of Favor

Witch of Endor

To Acquiesce Information from the Dead

Witchy Playlists

Elements: Air

Elements: Earth

Elements: Fire

Elements: Spirit

Elements: Water

Hymn of the Black Swamp

Maria Padilha

Mistress Mary/The Black Cathedral

Ritual Music

Ritual Music II

Serpent Mother

Rosa Caveira Playlists:

Rosa Caveira (never before posted on tumblr)

Lady of the Boneyard

Fire in the Bones

The Garden of Your Birth

Misc.

As Above Poem – Lucifer

The First Witch & the Birth of the Devil (Poem)

The Labyrinth – Prayer to Ariadne

Lady of the Boneyard – Rosa Caveira “Hymn” (Ponto Cantado)

Let Us Ride Poem

Love Rhyme

The Noguerra Estate – Short Story

PER OSTIVM Poem

Qedavian Script

Qedavian Tarot 1

Qedavian Tarot 2

The Serpent Song

Sigil Ask: Channel of the Sulphuric Moon Explanation

New additions appear in bold.

isabeldunewitch

I'm going to explore this whole list when I have time... Stunning & inspiring!

qedavathegrey

Call to the Black Serpent

This rather simple ritual could easily be construed as a curse, but to label it simply as such would be a bit premature. A curse is punishment for action, and while this ritual does return any ill-will they may have inflicted upon you, its true purpose is cleansing: cleansing you of your anger (or any other residual emotions) toward them and theirs aimed at you. It is punishment for their actions, but not for their emotions – which I think is a subject often neglected when it comes to curses. While it is their actions that have hurt you, these actions stem from emotion and if that emotion is not dealt with, a curse can only correct their action via punishment (indirectly). This ritual is intended clear that resentment as much as it is to return what harm they may have inflicted on you.

The Black Serpent is fire – it is cleansing and it is destructive: it is the insatiable inferno devouring vice and it is the flaming spear that impales those who seek your destruction. It is preservation – for it is the Anchor that binds us to the physical world, so that we might face our trials and learn from these tribulations.

Ritual

The methodology for this ritual is very lax and craves personalization. I offer unto you only a generalized course of action that may be adapted in whatever way a witch sees fit. I do – however – encourage the use of fire, as (mentioned above) the Serpent is ruled by it. A personal affect or photo of he/she to whom you will dispatch the Serpent is also recommended.

To begin, light your fire – Spirit Fire would work very well – and present, before the flames, your target. Conjure the Serpent:

From the Earth – from the Depths, Hark: Black Serpent rise – From the poisoned garden, From the earthly cauldron, From my shadow – born, There is – yet – work to be done:

While the “hymn” suggests the Serpent’s lair is within the Earth, it resides at your spine (where its divine twin – the Light Serpent, your Soul/Spirit – coils around it) and anchors you thusly to the Earth. Offer to the flames the affect or photo – command the Serpent:

Go forth now – at my behest, To the throat of my transgressor: Wreak on them thy vicely clench – and Dip thy poisoned-tooth to vein, Devour at their prideful altar, And bestow on them – my wrath,

When you feel the Spirit or energy of the other person and have developed a temporary bond, proceed:

Oh great serpent – writhing Anchor to the middle world: Bind the eyes – From seeing; Bind the tongue – From speaking lies; And bind the mind – That does derive falsehoods From my Truth, Feed – O carnal beast of man, On their deception – their predilection For my misery, And in thy gilded gullet – Imbued with my redemption – Churn the harbored hate They hold, And turn out – unto me Nubile and golden Blessings That I might wear As a diadem Of Victory;

When the work is done and when you have been purged of your anger, sadness, etc., call the Serpent home:

Hark, my Shadow servant – return, From whence you came, Gorged on vice and anger, To the Earth – to the Depths, To the black specter that trails Ever behind me – Til’ I call on thee again.

Extinguish the fire – the working is complete.

photo source – from the book Serpentine by photographer Mark Laita

luxocultapress

socialmagicreactions

Reading Apocalyptic Witchcraft

How I thought I was going to react:

How I actually reacted:

isabeldunewitch

Hahaha pretty much :D

theheadlesshashasheen-deactivat

I mean, what is Walpurgis Night (err, day) without… Woodcuts?

luxocultapress

catcovenshop

”Wouldst thou like to live deliciously?”

Illustration inspired by “The VVitch” movie directed by Robert Eggers

2016. Available as a print and also a matching Black Phillip pin will be released at 8 PM EST tonight! Catcovenshop.com

poisonappleprintshop

Witches’ Night on Hexenkopf Rock by Adrienne Rozzi // Poison Apple Printshop

SHOP

Five witches dance merrily around a sacred Oak on Hexenkopf Rock and sing an ominous song. This Pennsylvania Dutch inspired drawing and screenprint is an ode to Hexenkopf Rock and the mysteries and legends which surround it. Hexenkopf, meaning “Witch’s Head,” is a stony summit in Williams Township in the Northampton County of Pennsylvania, which was an area first settled predominantly by German immigrants. Coming from a superstitious and witch-fearing culture, the settlers brought their unique fears and myths along with them and found equivalents in their new land. In Northern Germany, the Brocken mountain, highest of all peaks in the Harz mountain range, had been the known meeting place of ill-intended witches, and it is thought that these myths found their American equivalent in Hexenkopf Rock, another stony summit above all the rest. Over three centuries, reports of witch’s sabbaths, hexed crops and livestock, and numerous sightings of apparitions have all contributed to Hexenkopf Rock’s legend. Furthermore, Braucherei, or pow-wow magic, was first developed in this area thanks to Johann Peter Seiler, an 18th-century healer and Braucher, famed for curing hundreds, if not thousands of people in his lifetime. A unique aspect of Braucherei is that once a sickness is drawn from a person, it must be placed into something else. In the case of Brauchers around Easton, Hexenkopf Rock became that receptacle, only furthering its ill-begotten legend. The text in Witches’ Night on Hexenkopf Rock is from a witch’s song recorded by a nervous onlooker who was allegedly lured to the rock by the melodic singing of a concert of witches one dark Walpurgisnacht (meaning “Witch’s Night,” April 30th, May-Eve). A special detail is the white fox in the lower right corner. There are numerous stories of a white fox seen about Hexenkopf that would cause trouble for trappers and mischief-makers who ventured near the area. It was believed the white fox was the embodiment of witch spirits past, who had gathered there at the stony summit. Trappers reported strange occurrences when they saw the fox; often their bait went missing, but the trap remained untouched. Many superstitious hunters tried to leave poisoned food out for the elusive animal, but it too went untouched. Days later, the Trapper’s dogs would eat the poisonous food and perish. Such ill-happenings were often blamed on the white fox and the animal’s accompanying witch spirits!

Witches’ Night on Hexenkopf Rock is a limited edition 5-color screenprint made in the style of Pennsylvania Dutch artwork with traditional motifs such as hex signs, hearts, tulips, and hand-written calligraphy. The witches dance and sing, surrounded by their animal familiars as well as local crops picked from nearby fields. Cauldrons and broomsticks flank the witches, the former springing with life as a symbol of the hearty fruits of mischievous labors and the latter alluding to the magical creed of balance and duality (as above, so below) and fertility of spirit. On the ground lay loose horseshoes freshly filched from the doors of superstitious neighbors. It is believed that an upturned horseshoe placed above the entrance to a house or barn would protect from malevolent witchcraft. Witches’ Night on Hexenkopf Rock was inspired by the rare 1965 book The Hexenkopf: Mystery, Myth, and Legend written by Easton resident Ned D. Heindel.

Following is the full song of the witches:

CONCERT OF WITCHES:

“Merrily dance we, merrily dance we, round this old Oak tree, Full many will dance this terrible night, but none will be merry but we; The ships shall dance on the yeasty waves, the billows shall dance and roll, And many a screech of despair shall rise from many a sin-sick soul.”

FIRST WITCH:

“I saw Dame Williams sitting alone, And I dried up the marrow within her hip-bone, When she arose she could scarcely limp — Why did I do it? She called me “an Imp.”

CONCERT OF WITCHES:

“Be merry, be merry, the lightning’s gleam itself were sufficient light, But we’ve got us a phosphor-gleaming corpse to be our candle to-night; There never was night more foul and black, there was never fiercer blast; Oh! many a prank the winds will play, ere this terrible night be past.”

SECOND WITCH:

“I scratched the justice’s swine on the head, When he wakes in the morning he’ll find them dead; And I saw a rich villain, at his house door, Loaded with gold, but crimson’d with gore.”

CONCERT OF WITCHES:

“Be merry, the fiends are roving now! and death is abroad on the wind, Join hands in the dance, to-morrow’s light full many a corpse shall find; Our sisters are out, on mischief bent, the cows their milk shall fail, The old maid’s cat shall be rode to death, and her lap-dog lose his tail, The farmer in vain shall seek his horse, who fasten’d his stable-door With lock and with bolt, if he has not nail’d a horseshoe firmly o’er.”

Witches’ Night on Hexenkopf Rock is original artwork drawn and screenprinted by Adrienne Rozzi. Hand printed with black, brown, rusty red, slate blue, and gold inks on archival ivory paper. A limited edition of 40, each print is numbered, titled, and signed by the artist. Measures 15” x 19”

ioqayin

I am embarrassed to admit this, but: I have performed many renunciations, even petitioned the Devil and land spirits for initiation (if violent, so be it: I am desperate for freedom) -- I am always left relatively unchanged. I have tried to write over my reality to alter my deepest self, and I always fall back into this self-destructive state of mediocrity, inertia, perfectionism. My birthday is very soon, and I want to end this once and for all. How might I make this time different?

Here’s the thing: initiation does not suddenly make you into a super witch. To initiate is to start something. You start on the path, and on the path you learn to be your true self and follow your will.

Further: you can’t force spirit initiation. You either are ready for it, or you’re not. And if you’re not, then you either go crazy or die. If you are ready, then it will happen. You might get called out to the woods and be greeted by a beautiful woman who takes you under a hill, or you might be whisked away from your bed, or during meditation you might be ravaged by spirits who pick you apart, clean you, and put you back together again. Or! The spirits might lead you to a teacher who will safely guide you through the process so those types of things don’t happen.

Witchcraft teaches you to really look at yourself and dig deep down and take out that deepest self you’re trying to alter. Why are you trying to alter it? To fit some sort of paradigm? No, accept yourself in all your parts, good and bad. Stand before the mirror and delight in your -whole- self. That’s power. Is there poison inside you? Transmute it. Is there pain? Turn it into art. Is there grief? Hug yourself and love more.

I’m learning myself -still- (and I’ve been doing this shit for almost 15 fucking years) that all this inner work is -hard-. And it isn’t about erasing those parts of ourselves we don’t happen to like, it’s about living them, loving them, and transmuting them for our own use. Why do they call the spirit lover devil, succubus, incubus, shadow? Because that is the part of ourselves that is beautiful, beastial, evil, dark, sexual, powerful, ecstatic, and soul sucking. It’s the part of ourselves that if we lock away, comes to bite us, and to bite other people from neglect. But it is also the part that if we accept and make love to, we can have power. We can be masters of our fate.

One of my mentors gives me a ritual to do. He says: Take a glass of water, and pour into it all your worries, your pain, your troubles, your anger. Pray to God to become whole in yourself. The water shines with Light. Breathe. Now drink it all. Drink all of it back into yourself. Be whole. Do this every day.

When I do it, I feel light, and happy. I smile unconsciously, and the fog clears.

We try so hard to erase ourselves. Fight the shadow. Fight the evil. Lock it away. Get rid of it. I say, dance with the Devil. Dance with Him, make love to Him, wrestle with Him, put Him on a leash, let Him tie you up, fly with Him.

I’ve been getting so many questions lately about how to contact the witch god. They want something visceral to happen to them. They want a man in black to appear in full manifestation before them. But that isn’t what happens all the time. Sometimes the Devil appears as yourself. And for many this confuses them, and they try different methods, but the same thing keeps happening. They see themselves. A flawed self. Saying they’re not good enough for this. They can’t be a witch. It’s not real.

They don’t realize that that -is- Him. He doesn’t have to look grotesque to scare you away. Sometimes he just shows you You: ugly and flawed.

The gods wear masks so that we can perceive them as they need to be perceived. Those masks are usually just mirrors.

That was a long post, and I apologize. I guess I had a lot to say because I feel you. I’m right in the same boat. The Work is hard. That’s why it is called work.

isabeldunewitch

Love <3

ducissatenebrarum

Hans Varnier the Elder; the Tree of Knowledge with the serpent.

qedavathegrey

Bitch Better Have My Money Oil

Ingredients

(3) Cinnamon Sticks

Thyme, dried

Allspice, dried – powdered

Buckeye

(3) Pennies

(3) Nickels

(3) Dimes

Oil – Castor:Carrier (1:4)

Optional:

Hoyt’s Cologne – highly recommended

Tobacco

Nutmeg (Whole)

Marigold, dried

Instructions

Add coins, cinnamon sticks, buckeye (and nutmeg) to a bottle. Perfume with just a splash of Hoyt’s Cologne.

Warm your oil – remove from the heat and add in the remaining ingredients: thyme, allspice, tobacco, marigold. Allow the oil to steep until cool to the touch. Through a sifter, strain out the solids and pour/funnel into the bottle. Cap/Cork.

Place the bottle near your front door, taking the first draw and using it to dress a green or gold candle – light the candle and allow it to burn out. Add any remaining wax to the bottle, reseal and allow it to infuse for 3 weeks before use.

alchemicallion

In The Lap of My Mother

I rarely have anything serious to complain about in my life, but today was a rough day. The hearing for my cousin’s murderer was today. Long story short, he’ll essentially walk. To add insult to injury, I’m sick with some sort of crud I likely picked up at work, so I’m off for a couple days (thankfully I have a massive amount of sick leave accrued). On top of it all, my bank is late depositing my check in my account. It’s one of ‘those’ days. Times like this it’s easy to sit around and stew in impotent rage, mope, or feel sorry for yourself. I think I transited all those phases today. Then I turn on the news or look online, and it’s a long slew of political posts and bathroom bill rants and generally humans being awful to each other. It’s hard to feel positive or upbeat. I question my faith, and feel like the whole world has gone mad around me. So I need to fix this somehow. I’ve decided to tell a story. It’s a true story, and I hope in the telling it may bring someone else who’s having a bad day a smile, or some sort of kernel of hope. I summon up this memory when I’m feeling down, and it never ceases to bring me a smile.

First, a bit of background: I live on the east coast, just a little bit inland from the Chesapeake Bay. The bay is like a second home to me. I’ve been speaking to the bay since I was a small child, playing in her waters, eating her bounty. I called her Mother, and thinking back on it, after initiating into Palo, how ironic that would all come be. My family had a wooden boat, an Owens Cabin Cruiser, and I’d spend many weekends at the marina with my father working long hours on the boat, playing along the docks, or cruising the bay. I’d sit at the bow of the boat with my feet dangling in the porthole, because there it felt like I was a shorebird, skimming the water. I was both flying, and at the same time one with Her.

One day while we were out cruising the bay, we encountered an enormous ship cruising into port. It was a merchant freighter, one of the largest of its kind. A floating city; each one of its propellers the size of our house (a 2-story). To this day it was the largest machine I’d ever seen up close. I was awestruck. My father gradually guided our craft closer, but it was a dangerous gamble, as our little toy boat could get dragged by the wake of this great leviathan. We drew up to the port side of the ship, and looking straight up, the hull looked like an enormous wall shooting straight up into the sky. But at the very top of this wall I could perceive dark faces and people moving about. This ship had come from the African continent, and who knows how long it had been since the crew had seen other human faces other than their own, after being out in the open sea for so long. For my young self, it was like seeing people from another world. But see….that was the magic of the Chesapeake. That was our Mother. She was a liminal space where people from all over the world could meet. I remember standing up on the bow of the boat and waving and waving. To my surprise and delight, the crew looking over the side broke into smiles and waved back.

I wonder how I must have looked to them, perhaps like some tiny monkey clinging to the front of a little toy boat. But I wanted more. I thrust my tiny hand in the air, making a fist at them, then pulled it down, gesturing someone pulling on a lever. I wanted them to blow their ship’s horn. For awhile I gestured, until one by one they left the port side of the ship, disappearing into it’s fast depths, presumably to return to their duties. Several minutes passed. Alright, I recall my father saying. Show’s over. For a ship of that size, blowing the horn on a whim was something that wasn’t done. My heart sank, but I understood. My dad started the engine, and made to angle the boat back out and away from the ship.

Then it happened.

The sound slammed down on us like a hammer, vibrating throughout the bay and bellowing through the air, drowning out the sound of other boat engines, the calling of the birds, our own voices. It made a long blast and several shorter ones. What I recall is a feeling that I can only express as utter joy and ecstasy. I was laughing and crying at the same time, I threw my arms wide, looking like the character Jack from that “I’m king of the world!” scene from the Titanic. And then there they were–smiling faces, laughing, dancing and jumping up and down and waving. I waved back. I bounced, I cried, I shouted. And it was there, that singular moment, where people from across the world connected. For them to break protocol in order to bring joy to a strange kid on a boat whom they’d never met and would never see again, it was at once paradoxically such a small and yet such an immense gesture.

To this day I’ve not forgotten their kindness or their smiling faces. But now that I’m much older I think about this and compare it to a darker time hundreds of years ago, when Africans sailed into the Chesapeake Bay not as merchants, but as chattel. I compare that time to what happened when I was a child, and what a strange dichotomy it is. But it’s one that gives me hope. I think about the magic that is the Chesapeake, and I think about how strangers from another part of the world performed an act of kindness for a kid they would only ever see in passing. I think about it over twenty years later, and I still smile. It’s a precious memory, one of many such gems I keep tucked away in my heart. But it’s also a learning experience. When I find myself becoming too bitter, I summon up that memory, and I smile.

In the lap of the great Mother Chesapeake, in that moment, we traded not in goods or human bodies but in joy and smiles. And also, maybe perhaps, hope as well.

isabeldunewitch

We all need stories like this once in a while <3

danskjavlarna

“The Black Cat Fortune Telling Game.”

qedavathegrey

To Remove an Affliction: Magical or Mundane

“After a rainstorm, go to roadside and hunt for the flattened remains of a toad. If these cannot be had, you may substitute with the bones of the same creature. Add the remains to a jar along with a hen’s egg – and to the same: a concoction of equal parts red wine, vinegar and storm water.

Powder the dried leaves of the mayapple and lacy crown of Queen Anne. Mix with shredded tobacco and add to the pot.

Seal the stew with a drop of blood and lid the jar. Swirl the contents three-times clockwise, three-times counter and three-times clockwise once more.

Bury this in the earth [in your own yard] with the lid exposed and let steep for 9 days. On the 9th night, exhume the jar and take it to the graveyard. Remove from within the egg, and bury this at the yard’s center most cross and use the jar’s remains to water the earth above it.”

photo source

danskjavlarna

From Le Imagini de i Dei de gli Antichi, 1592.

graycloak

Yale Lecture on Witchcraft and Magic

From a Fall 2009 history class, part of Yale’s Open Yale Courses program:

Early Modern England: Politics, Religion, and Society under the Tudors and Stuarts (HIST 251) [X]

This is [Lecture 14] in the class, and has the following description:

Lecture 14 - Witchcraft and Magic

In this lecture, Professor Wrightson discusses witchcraft and magic. He begins with the context of magic beliefs in this period, introducing the “cunning folk” who had reputations as healers and were often consulted. He then considers the specific problem of witchcraft, the use of magic to do harm, and its identification by the late medieval church as a form of anti-Christian cult. He examines the distinctive nature of both witchcraft beliefs and the history of witchcraft prosecution in England (as compared with both Scotland and continental Europe), outlining the typical circumstances of a witchcraft accusation and what these might suggest about the rise and fall of concern with witchcraft. Finally he considers a number of unresolved problems in the history of witchcraft in England: the nature of the links between gender and witchcraft; the reasons behind the passage of the statutes defining witchcraft as a crime; and the exceptionally large number of trials conducted in the county of Essex.

The following topic sections are listed for the video:

00:00 - Chapter 1. Magic

08:56 - Chapter 2. Differences between Witchcraft in England and in Europe

19:26 - Chapter 3. Trials in England

35:05 - Chapter 4. Witchcraft Statutes in Essex

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Isabel DuneWitch