The Vardø Witch Trials
In the far-flung northeastern corner of Norway lies the small Arctic town of Vardø, a place surrounded by frigid seas, long winters, and an austere beauty that feels closer to myth than reality. Yet beneath its stark landscape lies a dark and tragic history that many Norwegians only recently began to fully confront. In the 17th century, Vardø was the epicentre of one of Europe’s most brutal witch-hunting campaigns: the Vardø witch trials.
Between 1600 and 1692, nearly a hundred people—mostly women—were accused of sorcery, subjected to brutal torture, and executed by burning. This haunting chapter in Norway’s past speaks volumes about fear, superstition, and the deadly consequences of power unchecked. Today, Vardø stands not only as a testament to resilience in the Arctic, but as a memorial to lives lost to hysteria and persecution.
Context Behind the Witch Trials
The Vardø witch trials did not happen in isolation. They occurred during a time when Europe was gripped by a widespread and often state-sponsored belief in witchcraft. Between the 15th and 18th centuries, tens of thousands of people were executed for alleged dealings with the Devil, and Norway—then part of the Kingdom of Denmark-Norway—was no exception.
Vardø’s remote location made it particularly susceptible to both religious and cultural extremism. Positioned close to the Russian border and far removed from the central governance in Copenhagen, it was a place of isolation, mystery, and harsh living conditions. The population endured freezing temperatures, storms, disease, and famine. When disaster struck, people sought explanations. And in an era before meteorology and science could offer rational answers, witches became the convenient scapegoat.
Religious authorities fuelled the flames. Lutheran clergy, eager to root out supposed heresy, viewed the northern territories as spiritually untamed. They believed that Sámi shamanism—practised by the region’s Indigenous people—and local folk customs were fertile ground for the Devil’s work. This blend of ethnic discrimination, patriarchal fear, and religious zealotry laid the foundation for the trials that would soon engulf Vardø.
The First Fires: The 1621 Vardø Witch Trial
The first major wave of witch persecutions in Vardø began in 1621. After a violent storm devastated the local fishing fleet, killing forty men at sea, suspicions quickly turned towards witchcraft. Three women—Maren Olsdatter, Kirsti Sørensdatter, and Mari Jørgensdatter—were arrested and accused of conjuring the storm through magic. Under torture, all three confessed to flying to a witches’ sabbath on a mythical mountain and consorting with demons. Their confessions, given under extreme duress, were taken as proof of guilt.
The women were burned at the stake, and their deaths set a terrifying precedent. Over the next seven decades, wave after wave of accusations swept through Finnmark, and especially Vardø. Children were encouraged to report their own mothers or neighbours. Confessions extracted through torture—often involving sleep deprivation, beatings, or exposure to the Arctic cold—fed the ever-growing hysteria.
In total, some 91 people in Finnmark were executed for witchcraft between 1593 and 1692. The vast majority were women, but men and even children were also caught in the frenzy.
Torture and Trial: The Mechanics of Injustice
The trials in Vardø were not chaotic mobs acting on impulse. They were methodical, state-sanctioned proceedings rooted in the Danish legal code. Accused witches were arrested, interrogated, and subjected to rigorous “tests” to determine their guilt. These included the infamous water ordeal, where a suspect would be thrown into the freezing sea tied up. If she floated, it was taken as a sign that she had rejected baptism and thus was in league with the Devil. If she sank, she was considered innocent—but might still drown before she could be saved.
Once accused, few escaped execution. The legal system offered little protection, and torture was not only allowed but expected to produce confessions. Victims often claimed to have flown through the air, danced with demons, or transformed into animals—testimonies that today read like the delusions of sleep-deprived and terrified individuals, manipulated into saying whatever was necessary to end their torment.
The trials were often public, designed to act as a warning to others. Executions were typically carried out by burning at the stake—a fate considered appropriate for cleansing sin by fire. The psychological impact of these spectacles cannot be overstated. They instilled deep fear within the community, fracturing bonds of trust and leaving a legacy of trauma that would take centuries to heal.
The Gendered Terror: Women as Targets
The Vardø witch trials, like many across Europe, were deeply rooted in misogyny. The majority of the victims were women—widows, healers, midwives, or simply those who were socially marginalised. In small, tightly-knit communities where conformity was crucial for survival, being too outspoken, too independent, or simply too different could mark someone for suspicion.
Women were often portrayed as inherently more susceptible to temptation, a belief reinforced by religious doctrine at the time. Lutheran pastors taught that Eve’s original sin made all women morally weaker. This theology provided a convenient backdrop for accusing women of consorting with the Devil.
In the case of Vardø, some of the victims were also Sámi women, further compounding the accusations with racial and cultural prejudice. The intersection of gender, ethnicity, and religious fear created a perfect storm of vulnerability, ensuring that those with the least power bore the brunt of the state’s wrath.
Memory and Reckoning: Vardø’s Modern Memorials
For centuries, the Vardø witch trials were quietly forgotten or minimised, brushed aside as relics of a more superstitious time. But in recent decades, there has been a growing effort in Norway to confront this dark past and honour the memories of those who perished.
In 2011, the Steilneset Memorial was unveiled in Vardø. A collaboration between Swiss architect Peter Zumthor and the late French-American artist Louise Bourgeois, the memorial is a hauntingly beautiful tribute to the victims of the trials. It consists of a long, narrow corridor with 91 illuminated windows—one for each person executed. At the end stands a separate structure housing a flaming chair in a mirrored chamber, symbolising the destruction wrought by fear and persecution.
The memorial has become a place of reflection, education, and quiet mourning. It is a stark reminder that history is not always a tale of progress, and that even remote, seemingly peaceful communities can fall prey to violence when fear overtakes reason.
In schools and universities, the trials are now part of the curriculum, and local museums have begun to offer exhibitions detailing the events of the 17th century. Public awareness has grown, and the story of Vardø is no longer buried beneath the snow but recognised as a pivotal moment in Norway’s historical conscience.
Visiting Vardø: A Journey into Norway’s Arctic and Past
Travelling to Vardø is a journey into one of the most remote and atmospheric corners of Europe. Located in Finnmark county, beyond the Arctic Circle, Vardø is accessible via the coastal Hurtigruten ferry, as well as by road through a subsea tunnel from the mainland town of Vadsø.
The Steilneset Memorial is open to visitors year-round and stands on the shoreline, a short walk from the centre of town. Its design, stark against the snow and sea, feels like a bridge between the physical world and the intangible weight of memory. There are also local guides and interpretative signs that provide historical context, making it an ideal destination for those interested in history, human rights, and cultural reconciliation.
Vardø itself offers a quiet, reflective atmosphere. With its Arctic scenery, small population, and haunting silence, it’s a place that naturally encourages introspection. A visit here is not just a trip to a historical site—it’s a pilgrimage to the ghosts of injustice and a testament to the importance of remembrance.