"Why do they call me a witch?" asks the beautiful and bewildered accused in Playwright Christopher Fry's The Lady's Not for Burning. "I live alone . . . speak French to my poodle [and] have a peacock which, on Sundays dines with me indoors . . ."
Comely, black-haired Martha Minnen kept no peacocks, but she had other eccentricities. To her neighbors in the tiny village of Witgoor in the Kempen region of Flanders they smacked strongly of witchcraft. There were her cats, for instance. "It's just beyond belief," said one Witgoor villager, "the number of black cats you see...
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