I have just delved into one of the darkest stories of European justice, and it shook me. The story of Anna Göldi is not just a tragedy—it’s a demonstration of how power and influence can turn an innocent person into a scapegoat.

Everything began in 1781 in the canton of Glarus, when the daughter of an influential doctor and politician started to fall ill in a strange way: convulsions, and then allegedly spitting out metal needles. It sounds like a horror-movie plot, but it was real. So where did the suspicious gaze fall? On Anna Göldi, a housemaid in the home of that very doctor.

And this is where it gets most interesting. Modern historians, such as Walter Hauser, have uncovered the truth: there was no witchcraft. It was all a cover. It turns out there was a romantic relationship between Anna Göldi and her employer. For a powerful person, this was a deadly threat to their reputation. The solution? Get rid of the inconvenient witness once and for all.

Anna was caught and subjected to horrific torture—she was suspended by her thumbs, with weights on her legs. Under such pressure, of course, she “confessed” to a conspiracy with the devil in the form of a black dog. Then she withdrew the confession, but after further torture she confirmed it again. A classic scenario of medieval justice.

The court found itself in a difficult position: in 1782, the laws no longer allowed execution for witchcraft. But they found a way out—they reclassified the accusation as “poisoning,” even though, by their own laws, it was not punishable by death. Bureaucratic ingenuity in the service of injustice.

On 13 June 1782, Anna Göldi was brought out to the square and beheaded. Her body was buried under the gallows—an infamous burial for an infamous execution. Europe was shocked. Newspapers wrote about Glarus as a country of savages.

But what inspires is this: after 226 years, in 2008, the parliament of the canton of Glarus officially recognized Anna Göldi as innocent. The first full state rehabilitation in Europe of a “witch.” Now, in the city of Ennenda, there is a museum dedicated to her memory and to human rights. In Glarus, two permanent lanterns are lit in her honor.

Today, the story of Anna Göldi is not just a historical curiosity. It’s a warning about how state institutions and powerful people can use the legal system to destroy inconvenient individuals. Even in the Age of Enlightenment, when witch hunts had already ended in other countries. It makes you think about how often we believe the official version without digging deeper.