In the old market town of Maidstone, south of London, the memory of more than twenty women hanged for witchcraft during the 1600s is being brought back into public view. A group of local councilors, joined by museum staff who keep the surviving court records, is asking the British state to clear their names with a royal pardon. The request asks a society to look squarely at how easily fear and misfortune once found a convenient face, and it asks whether that old pattern has truly been left behind.
Maidstone Council Seeks Royal Pardon for Women Hanged as Witches Four Centuries Ago
Not a single convicted witch has been exonerated in the U.K.
Why would a council spend time on something that happened 400 years ago?
Because the records are right there. More than 20 women were hanged in Maidstone, and the council has a reconstructed cell in its own town hall. Councilor Claire Kehily calls it a miscarriage of justice.
Who were these women?
Usually single women, spinsters or widows, without a man to speak for them. Kehily says that made them easier to target.
Before we go further, how solid is the number? The story says records show more than 20 hanged in Maidstone. It doesn't name them or say over what span of years.
Fair. The 5,000 figure for England and Scotland is also given as "around," so it's an approximation.
What were they accused of?
Museum collections manager Samantha Harris says illness and disasters were blamed on them, along with the death of pigs and cattle. Someone always had to be blamed.
And the Salem comparison? Is that a fair parallel?
The story says all of Salem's falsely accused have been pardoned, while no convicted witch in the U.K. has been exonerated. That contrast is the stated gap the council wants to close.
What's still unknown is whether the king will act. The council plans to petition and is lobbying, but the story reports no response from the government or the palace.
And Harris's personal stake?
She says she'd probably have been targeted herself, because independence was seen as threatening. That's her view, but it explains why she calls it personal.
Der Puls
- Four centuries after the hangings, the town's council is pressing the U.K. government to reckon with a stain on its own courts.
- A reconstructed prison cell inside the town hall makes a quiet, unsettling claim: these accusations were built into the local machinery of justice.
- Councilors are lobbying Parliament's government and preparing a petition to King Charles III seeking a pardon for every convicted witch in Maidstone.
- Unlike Salem, where the falsely accused have all been cleared, not one convicted English witch has ever been exonerated, leaving the question open and the outcome uncertain.
In the old market town of Maidstone, south of London, the memory of more than twenty women hanged for witchcraft during the 1600s is being brought back into public view. A group of local councilors, joined by museum staff who keep the surviving court records, is asking the British state to clear their names with a royal pardon. The request asks a society to look squarely at how easily fear and misfortune once found a convenient face, and it asks whether that old pattern has truly been left behind.
Inside Maidstone's town hall there is a reconstructed prison cell, built from a medieval structure where women accused of witchcraft once waited for trial. Claire Kehily, a member of the Maidstone Borough Council, led visitors through it as part of a case she and her colleagues are now bringing to the British state.
Records show that more than twenty women convicted of witchcraft were hanged in the town during the peak of England's witch hunts in the 1600s. Kehily described who tended to be accused: single women, spinsters and widows, often without a man to speak for them. That made them easy to target. For her, the convictions were a miscarriage of justice, and the women had no real means of proving their innocence.
At Maidstone Museum, collections manager Samantha Harris showed the official record of a witch trial from 1652. She explained that someone always had to be blamed, so misfortune, illness, and the death of livestock were laid at the feet of vulnerable neighbors. For Harris the campaign is personal. Being single and independent were seen as threatening then, and she believes she would likely have been accused herself. If people do not learn from the past, she said, nothing guarantees it will not happen again.
The comparison with America is striking. Everyone falsely accused in Salem has been pardoned, but in the U.K. not one convicted witch has ever been cleared. Kehily sees the effort as speaking to the present as well as the past, since miscarriages of justice and scapegoating still occur. Next comes the petition to King Charles III and the lobbying of the government, which will decide whether Maidstone's women become the first in Britain to be formally exonerated.
Inside the town hall in Maidstone, a quiet country town just outside London in southern England, there is a prison cell. It is a reconstruction, built from an earlier medieval building where women accused of witchcraft were held before they went to trial. Claire Kehily, a member of the Maidstone Borough Council, walked CBS News through it as part of a case she and her colleagues are now making to the British state.
The case concerns events of about 400 years ago. Records show that more than 20 women convicted of witchcraft were hanged in Maidstone. Their deaths came at the height of English witch hunts, which peaked in the 1600s. Across England and Scotland together, around 5,000 women convicted of witchcraft were put to death, some by hanging and some by burning.
Kehily and her fellow councilors are now lobbying the U.K. government and plan to petition King Charles III for an official pardon covering every one of Maidstone's convicted witches.
Kehily described who tended to be accused. They were usually single women, spinsters or widows, she said, generally without a man to stick up for them. That made them easier to target. In her view the pardon matters because the convictions were a miscarriage of justice. The women, she said, could not have been guilty of the crimes they were accused of, and in many cases they had no way of being found innocent.
The town's museum holds a piece of that history. Samantha Harris, the collections manager at Maidstone Museum, showed CBS News the official record of a witch trial held in the town in 1652. She explained the logic behind many accusations: someone always had to be blamed. Natural disasters and illnesses were pinned on these women, as was the death of pigs and cattle. Communities, Harris said, were scapegoating people who were often quite vulnerable.
For Harris, the campaign is personal. Being single and independent, she said, were things seen as threatening in that era, and she believes she would almost certainly have been targeted as a witch at the time. She argued that if people do not learn from the past, nothing says it won't recur.
There is a transatlantic comparison. America's best-known witch trials took place in Salem, Massachusetts, in the 1690s, and their memory was revived by Arthur Miller's play "The Crucible," an allegory of the political witch hunts led by Sen. Joseph McCarthy in the 1950s. Everyone falsely accused in Salem has since been pardoned. In the U.K., by contrast, not one convicted witch has been exonerated.
Kehily framed the effort as about the present as well as the past. Four centuries on, she said, miscarriages of justice still happen, and people are still scapegoated for things. What comes next is the petition to King Charles III and the lobbying of the government, which will decide whether Maidstone's women become the first in the U.K. to be formally cleared.
Bemerkenswerte Zitate
It matters because it was a miscarriage of justice.— Claire Kehily, Maidstone Borough Council
There had to always be someone to blame.— Samantha Harris, collections manager, Maidstone Museum