It’s a day for high spirits now, in the past, it proved wicked for witches

Women were murdered during the witch craze. So why do we play it for laughs, asks Terry Prone.

THEY died in terror and pain. They died in public shame, their screams drowned out by a mob of neighbours, relatives and those they had, up to the previous week, called friends. They suffered as they died, and they died certain of further suffering in hell.

And yet, every year, we mock their memory and involve our children in our heartless mockery. We dress the kids up in pointy hats and long claw-like nails, because that’s the wardrobe for a witch.