Locarno, and in the Valtellina are known for witches' houses, as they were in the day of Pliny. The Roman and Lombard laws sought to suppress the folly. The populace inclined to tales of the marvellous. Wild and foolish rumours may have always been current of the powers of wizard folk. This one could cast spells, inspired by love or hate, on man, animals, and the flowering crops. That one could convert a piece of wood into a horse, an ass, a goat, at pleasure. They made ointments of rare efficacy, powders of enchantment, and charms. The chances are these boasters wished the palm crossed, gypsy fashion, to avert such malign deeds.

The witch of Como may well be accorded a special place in history. Her native hamlet of Lezzeno rests in shadow, set deep under the wood of San Primo. The sun does not visit the locality during the winter. All about the spot are rocky ravines and cascades, with Torno to the south. The houses are roofed with crumbled tiles, the walls are painted white and yellow, with blue facings here and there, and connected by

slimy passages or vaulted archway. The inhabitants of these shady and forbidding haunts seem to have early acquired a dark reputation for dealing in witchcraft and magic above their fellows.

Is the crone a lineal descendant of the witch of Theocritus, or the Libyan sorceress of Virgil, versed in supernatural lore? Does a wild and even poetical interest attach to her of orgies similar to the Walpurgis Night on the Blocksberg, or gatherings around the tree of Benevento? Neighbours born on a Friday of March may consider themselves lucky as thereby placed beyond her power. Who knows how many fine ladies consult her in their love affairs, and seek some more subtle draught of fresh bewitchment wherewith to ensnare cavaliers than their own beauty?

In the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries these old women's fables had a phase of tragedy. Spain sought to exterminate heresy and Black Art in all her possessions. The Inquisition was organised at Como with reference to witchcraft as well. Morbid imagination ran riot. The arrows

of suspicion and detection flew far and wide. Poor old women were not the only victims, but all classes were struck, by means of bribery, terror, and the seizing of property of those deemed guilty, as well as the despoiling of the heirs of prisoners. The confessions made to the Inquisition condemned the wretched culprits, and implicated others, according to the authorities at Chiavenna, Berbenno, or Mendrisio. The most painful absurdities were related of the condemned, of intercourse with the Evil One, transformations, and conversations with Diana and Herodias. (Why were these ladies introduced into such society?) The fantasies of the popular taste seemed to demand marvels.

Fra Bernardo Rategno of Como, the zealous Inquisitor of 1505, wrote a book entitled "De Strigiis." He stated that the witches met the devil, in human form, on the nights before Friday to render him homage and express disrespect for the Cross, the Madonna, the Confessional. "How to discover the witches?"